Page 76 of Playing Mr. Perfect

“You are such a bad influence.”

“You can say no.”

“I don’t want to say no,” she whispers harshly. “That’s why you’re a bad influence. I would never even think about doing something like this, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

I fucking love that. “If it’ll help, then after my shower, I’ll go commando, too. Just for you.”

“Don’t tell me that. I can’t unhear it. Now I’ll be thinking about that all day.”

I laugh.

“Don’t laugh,” she says, but she’s laughing, too.

“I’m sorry. You’re just so cute, and I’m not gonna lie. I love the idea of you thinking about me all day.”

“I bet you do. I have to get cleaned up.” She kisses me. “You need to wash your face so people don’t smell me all over you. Ohmygod. I cannot believe I just said that.” She heads upstairs, shaking her head, mumbling, “This is so bad.”

I laugh again and take a moment to check out her place. The foyer opens to a high-ceilinged, sunny and inviting living room with yellow walls and white trim. The floors are light hardwood, the sofa is coral with yellow and light gray throw pillows, and two comfortable-looking floral armchairs sit on either side of a fireplace with a marble surround. Behind one armchair are built-in bookshelves littered with books and knickknacks. Pictures of her family, the university, and her parents’ Victorian home decorate the walls, in sharp contrast to the stark walls in her office.

I head down the hall and find a powder room just before the entrance to the kitchen. I wash my face with cold water, willing my cock to deflate. When I leave the bathroom, Pepper is coming down the stairs. Her hair is freshly brushed, and her cheeks immediately pink up. That’s how I know she didn’t chicken out and put on panties.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she says with a nervous laugh.

“Like you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?”

Her brows knit. “Like you know I don’t have underwear on.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll try not to.” I put a hand on her back and kiss her, tasting mint toothpaste. “Your place is gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” She grabs her coat and bag from the foyer closet. “How did you know what time I leave for work?”

I take her coat from her and help her into it. “I didn’t, but I hoped I’d get lucky.”

“I think I’m the one who got lucky this morning,” she says as we head outside.

On the porch, I draw her into my arms. “I think we’re both lucky. I missed you last night, sweetheart.”

“I might have missed you, too.”

“Might have?” I kiss her again and take her hand as we head down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

“Can I ask you something?” she asks carefully.

“Of course.”

“Did you really put your life on hold to come see me for some undetermined amount of time?”

A dog barks inside a home as we walk past, and I see its adorable scruffy face in the window. It dawns on me that I can’t remember the last time I walked around a neighborhood. It’s nice walking with her. “I think this is the first time in years I’m not putting my life on hold.”

“What do you mean?”

“My world revolves around football. I’m either gearing up for the season, in season, catching up with family and friends, or taking care of sponsorships, charitable commitments, and fan events.” We turn onto another residential street. “I’ve lived in that cycle for a long time, and it’s been great. It’s everything I always wanted. But what I didn’t realize until you and I got together was that I hadn’t been doing anything about living my life outside all of that.”

“Why not?”

“Because before you, there wasn’t anyone I wanted to see badly enough to make the effort.”

“Really?”