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My brows knit together as my questioning eyes meet hers, and she nods a little. She averts her gaze toward the locker room door, and I hear Sue say, “Oh, there’s Dad.”
I glance down at the paper in my palm, and it has a phone number written on it.
I guess this time she isn’t letting me walk away without her number.
I can’t miss it when she literally places it in my palm.
But the question is…am I going to use it?
I don’t know what the plan is for after the game, and I don’t know if she’s going out this time. We won again, and I should make an appearance to celebrate with my teammates. But I’m tired, and now I have her number, and I want to use it, but I still know I can’t.
I glance back up at her, and when her eyes meet mine, I see the pleading there in them. She wants me to use that number.
I want to use it.
But I’m not sure if I can.
“Hey, man, you coming out with us?” Tristan asks me, slapping me on the shoulder.
While I don’t feel like I’ve bonded with most of my teammates, there are a solid handful who have always made me feel included, and it’s the true team leaders like Tristan and Travis and Jaxon. They’ve been around for a long time, and they’re in the sort of leadership positions I aspire to be in.
But Travis wasn’t always a starter for the Aces. He worked his ass off to get to where he is.
The same could be said for everyone in that locker room, I suppose. And yet I still have the stigma attached to me that I’m only here because of my last name.
I’m not sure how to break out of that, but fucking the OC’s daughter probably isn’t the way to do it.
I slip her number into my pocket as she takes off to greet her dad, and I tell Tristan I’ll come out for a drink or two.
I’m sure she hears me. I hope she hears me. I hope we can find a quiet hallway to share another kiss in. But I also know that’s all it can be.
I can’t betray my coach like that…even if I want to rip that Morgan 89 jersey right off her shoulders, toss it to the floor, and run my tongue along her tits for the rest of the fucking night.
Chapter 23: Desiree Dixon
Game On, I Guess
I toss my head back and laugh at something Chase just said.
Was it really all that funny? No.
Am I playing a game after I saw Asher walk in? Yes, absolutely, I am.
He’s going to pin me against the wall and give me a steamy kiss and then act like he’s some goddamn hero for walking away? Well, that’s a game, too, so…game on, I guess.
Ellie slides into the booth beside me. “So, Desi, have we talked you into moving to Vegas yet?”
I laugh. “Nobody has tried in the last five minutes.”
“Enter Ellie. So I talked to Erin last week, and she is super excited to talk with you. Shereallywants to offload the charity ball for next year to someone with experience, and since you know footballandattended this year’s event, you’re like the magical perfect fit.”
I don’t mention that I was so focused on Asher that I don’t have a clear recollection of the rest of the ball.
I sigh. “Would it require me to be here in Vegas?”
She shrugs. “You can work that out with Erin. If you’reonlytaking on the ball and you do it as a consultant, then I wouldn’t think so.”
“But my contract at my current job doesn’t allow me to plan outside events,” I say sullenly.
