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I drain the rest of my beer and push to a stand as I make a vow to myself that I’ll figure out some other living situation sooner rather than later. “Well, goodnight.”
He grunts out some reply, but his show is back on, and I just chugged a beer, so it’s not like I’m going to lay in bed and go right to sleep since I’ll have to get up and piss in twenty minutes.
So instead of trying to sleep, I open up a browser and start to search for homes for sale nearby.
I save a few that look nice, though I’m not entirely sure I want to buy or rent. I’ll probably finish my career out here in Vegas, and I love it here. Compared to Indy, the weather is gorgeous most of the year except for the hot months, and the scenery and nightlife are both incredible.
Most of my family is here, too, though I’m not sure that’s a mark in theprocolumn.
It’s just as I settle into bed for the second time that another text comes through.
Desiree:Just wanted to let you know I’m no longer wearing number eighty-nine.
Me:What are you wearing?
Desiree:Nothing.
I groan.
Me:Prove it.
Desiree:I don’t think so. What if I want to run for office someday? Can’t have pics of my tits floating around.
Me:That’s why you keep your face out of the shot.
Desiree:[smirk emoji] Sorry. In person only.
Me:The temptation is strong.
Desiree:Here’s to hoping you give in next time.
As it turns out,next timeis sooner than I thought it would be.
We don’t have practice Monday since we won, but I still stop by the practice facility for a workout, and it’s as I’m working the ropes that she walks in with her dad, who appears to be giving her a tour of the Complex.
She’s wearing fucking Austin Graham’s number.
It’s a dare.
And I never back down from a dare.
Chapter 25: Desiree Dixon
Is This an Interview
Oh. My. God.
Asher Nash on the ropes is truly a beautiful sight to behold.
All I can think of as I watch those strong, muscular forearms move up and down, slamming those ropes against the ground, is how he slammed into me that night we shared.
A snippet of his hand running along my thigh comes back to me. Those strong forearms holding himself up as he hovered over me.
MyGod, the need in me is strong right now.
He has to feel it too. Hehasto.
His eyes move to me, and he looks surprised. But when his eyes flick to my jersey and he sees me wearing Austin Graham’s number, Iswearthe sound of the ropes slapping against the ground gets a little louder.
