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twenty-four
You want to know how I know this girl is the one?
Because I just had the game of my life, and all I can think about is getting home. To my couch.
To the gorgeous woman on my couch.
Of course, she’s also the reason I kicked so much ass out there. Knowing she was watching juiced me.
In the locker room, Declan saunters off to go take all the credit for our win while I send a group text letting Meg know we’re on our way. I decline interviews and rush through my shower before hustling the others out of the stadium.
Archer and Ronan, anyway. At this point, we’re all barely speaking to Dec.
It feels wrong. Especially for me. Problem is—the only thing that feels even worse is the thought of not talking to Meg.
I’m the first one into the house, practically leaping out the back of Ronan’s Rolls. I fling the garage door open and shout, “Peaches?!”
I hear a squeal and the slap of bare feet on the marble floor. That’s so fucking cute, I’m already grinning when she barrels around the corner, wearing the custom jersey I had made for her.
It’s the real deal—the same make as the one I wore on the field today. Only, on our gorgeous girl, it’s more like a dress than a top. I only have half a second to notice that she’s pants-less before she launches herself through the cased opening of the kitchen and leaps right into my arms.
Uhhhhhgnnnn.
Hooooooly fuckinggggg?—
I just spent three hours with three-hundred-pound monsters trying to knock my lights out, but none of them came anywhere near this close to taking my legs from under me.
What the?—?
I knew she smelled amazing. Perfect. Like heaven.
But this?
This is nirvana.
This is so impossibly good, it’s going to kill me.
My body acts on impulse, gathering the sweet source of my torment up into my chest, purrs rattling automatically.
Peaches clings to my neck. Big, blue eyes lock on mine. My arms are sore as shit but that will never stop me from banding them under her cute ass, balancing her weight against me.
She smiles wide, little hands coming up to hold my cheeks. “I am so proud of you, big guy.”
I didn’t expect that. The words or the total sincerity of them. She really means it. She watched my game, and she is proud of me.
The air sweeps out of my lungs and doesn’t come back. My chest burns, along with the bridge of my nose. I’ve never been on the verge of tearing up while my dick is this hard, but fuck it. For her? I’m down.
For her? I’m starting to think I’ll do anything.
Our limbs curl around each other in another hug. Her scent hits me all over again, pounding into my blood with a steady pulse all its own.
Before I know what’s happening, we both have our faces buried in each other’s necks. I can tell she’s inhaling me the same way I’m huffing her down, and that makes me even harder.
Shit. My knot is throbbing and she hasn’t even touched me. We haven’t even kissed.
That suddenly seems like a huge fuck up on my part.
I should have kissed her in that elevator. In the parking lot. On the lanai.
