Page 66 of Offsides

“Despite whatever hang-ups I have about reporters,” he assured her. “I…”

Cowboy stopped himself, still not quite ready to say those words out loud. He was there, he knew it. But voicing it was different, in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Me too,” she replied, eyes bright. “I’ve fallen for you too, Britt.”

Fuck yes…

Chapter Twenty-Three

A thunderous bang on the door woke Cowboy up with a start, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Shaking his head, trying to clear the sleep and figure out what was going on, he unwrapped himself from Theo’s beautiful, naked body, pushing up. The banging continued, two separate thumps, as if whoever was out there was using both hand and foot to make the noise. Cowboy glanced over at the clock—six forty-two. This better be good.

“Britt, open up!” Keaton yelled, followed by more banging. “We have a situation.”

Situation? It’s not even fucking seven a.m., for Christ’s sake…

Rolling his eyes, he gently shook Theo, trying to wake her up. He didn’t care about Keaton knowing that she’d spent the night, but he did care about his colleague finding her there naked.

“Now, Britt!”

“Is…is that Keaton?” Theo asked, still half-asleep.

“Yeah…might want to get dressed.”

Theo nodded, slipping out of bed. Not bothering to put her shirt back on, she made her way back to her room, closing the door behind her. Throwing on some jeans, he stumbled his way to the front of the suite, opening the door midknock.

“What?”

Keaton pushed his way past him, barging into the room as if he were being chased by something. Please don’t let there be someone chasing him…

“Good morning to you too.”

He let the door slam shut, walking back into the suite, finding Keaton pacing back and forth. What could he possibly be so upset about this early in the morning?

“We have a situation.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Apparently some of the players went out last night and celebrated,” Keaton said, still pacing.

“This is Vegas, that’s to be expected. You’ve played in the tournament. Fuck, Keaton, you’ve won the damn thing. You know how this works. The guys hit the strip, gamble, drink, whatever. I fail to see how this is an issue.”

“Well, some of our guys went to a strip club.”

“Again, this is Vegas, there is one of those on every corner. I distinctly remember the one we hit after we lost in the semis when we were playing for San Diego. That one chick was, like, glued to McHenry,” Cowboy laughed, the memory flashing before him. That establishment had not been the classiest of places, but damn, it was a good night out with the guys. “He probably would have taken her home too, if Jackson hadn’t stopped him.”

“Yeah well, McHenry didn’t get himself arrested, now did he?” Keaton said, stopping his pacing and facing Cowboy head-on.

What. The. Fuck…

“Arrested? Who?”

“Dash,” Keaton answered. His mouth was pressed into a hard line, his brows knitted in a mix of worry and anger. “You can get away with a lot in Vegas. But even here they draw the line at walking down the Strip in nothing but what God gave you. Especially when covered in cocaine.”

Cowboy’s head was spinning. Dash had been arrested. Naked. Covered in cocaine. This didn’t make any sense. How did one ever get covered in cocaine? Sure, the kid was a partier, but not that kind of partier. Or so he had thought.

“What do you mean ‘covered in coke’? He go for a swim in it?”

Keaton shrugged, his expression unchanged. Fuck, this was a hell of a thing to wake up to.