Page 68 of Forever Offsides

RHETT

Ishould have been on cloud nine. I’d just won my first game as an NFL head coach. And I was happy. But it was dulled. Even a bit overshadowed. I didn’t text or call Russel. I gave the guys a locker room speech and congratulations on our first win, while reminding them that it’s a long season and we have a long way to go. I did the postgame conference and left.

Then I texted Quinn.

You’d think I would have slept like shit, but I didn’t. I came home, jerked off to Quinn’s beautiful tits and gorgeous face, and fell into a heavy sleep. I don’t know her schedule, and I try not to track it, but I also try to time my runs so that I’m no more than a quarter mile behind her when I do catch her.

I don’t engage. I don’t let her know I’m there, and she never looks.

But I like running with her. I like watching her and wondering what she’s listening to and making sure she’s safe. It starts my day off in the best possible way.

Like today.

I leave my house at six thirty on the dot, and she’s already down the street, her red hair swinging behind her like a beacon for me to follow. Stalker or not, I don’t care. I’d never hurt her, so this isn’t about that.

It’s a gloomy sort of day, the air cool and crisp as we run along Memorial Drive. I have a hat on, and I’m keeping it low across my brow so I’m not recognized. Wind whips up off the river from my left, and cars whiz past on my right. Down by MIT, she takes a right and jogs across the street, getting lost in the buildings.

I know her route—my girl is such a creature of habit—and I take the same path only to practically smash into her once I reach Main Street.

She’s standing on the corner waiting for me, her arms folded and her eyebrow raised. Busted.

A smile lights up my face. “Hi,” I pant out, wiping the sweat dripping down my cheeks with the hem of my shirt. “Fancy running into you here.”

Her stern façade cracks, and she lets out a light laugh. “Yeah. Funny. And don’t show me your abs. That won’t soften me to your stalking.”

I chuckle. “That’s because there’s nothing soft about my abs. Wanna feel?”

She snorts and smacks my shoulder. “No. Stop. No touching.”

“Only looking. Got it.”

“Oh my god. No flirting.”

I roll my eyes at her. “You and all your rules. No touching, no stalking, no flirting. What can I do?”

She shrugs. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“How about we run together, and I buy you breakfast?”

“I thought we weren’t doing that. I thought we were all about the distance and ignoring each other.”

“If you can be friends with Russel, you can be friends with me.”

“I never agreed to be his friend. Not really anyway. And I think I’d like to be your friend even less.”

“That’s because you like me more. I get it. And I’m a great kisser.”

Her lips bounce. “I never said you were a great kisser.”

I nudge her with my elbow. “But you didn’t disagree that you like me more.”

“I like MRSA more than him.”

“MRSA?”

“Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus.”

“Sexy. Thanks for that.”