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I roll over only to feel the sun blazing through the open blinds and quickly shut my eyes. Reaching for Maya, I sit up when I don’t feel her soft, warm body next to mine. The brief moment of panic that rushes through me makes me laugh at myself. Am I this addicted to her already? Yes. Yes, I am. It’s not going to be easy to sneak around and keep our relationship secret, and she deserves better than that. But she’s sweet enough to not be too bothered by the inconvenience, and she understands that it’ll just be until I get reinstated on another pro team.
My trepidation grows when I see that her clothes, which were strewn around the floor, are gone. She’s not in the bathroom or the kitchen. There’s no note, nothing telling me where she’s gone. She just snuck out without so much as a kiss goodbye. I wanted to spoil her with my famous scrambled eggs and then carry her back into the bedroom until we had to go to practice later.
Did she have regrets? Anger floods my system, but I know it’s only to mask the pain. It shouldn’t be possible that she’s so far under my skin after just one night together, but I know she’s been wriggling her way into my heart with each sassy comeback to all my rude comments out on the field. I’ve never been rejected before. Certainly not by a college player with no experience.
That is, no experience except what she shared withme. The way she gave herself so completely to me only to leave without saying anything is a knife to the heart, especially now that I’m not sure I’ll get another chance with her. She made it clear enough she’s done with me just by sneaking out.
I’m over being hurt by the time I show up late to practice, good and pissed off instead. The players are kicking the ball around and jokingly give me shit for making them wait, teasing me about having a hangover from the celebration the night before. I holler at them to start running laps, berating them for not starting without me. During their drills, I’m ruthless about every little mistake, specifically tearing into Maya when she fumbles the ball during a pass.
“Is there a reason your legs are so weak today, Adams?” I shout, turning away at the sight of her reddening cheeks.
All I can think about is the blush on those cheeks when I was making her writhe with my tongue. Then I’m attacked by memories of her taste, the feeling of her skin under my fingertips, the way she moaned in my arms. My cock starts to rise, and it just makes me meaner. By the time practice is over, even the most good-natured players are giving me venomous looks and grumbling. As Maya rushes past me off the field, there are tears sparkling in her eyes. I crumble.
“Adams, hold back a second,” I call, keeping my voice gruff for the sake of the others. I see Laura give Maya a commiserating look as she walks stiffly back to me.
I lead her to stand in the shade at the corner of the locker rooms. Her chin lifts as she looks at me, her shoulders hunched, expression stormy. I know I deserve a good verbal beatdown, but she only blinks up at me with moist eyes.
I reach for her but let my hand drop before I can do something foolish. We’re sheltered by the building, but still out in public, still forbidden from each other. But I can’t let her think I hate her, because I don’t. I could never.
“I’m sorry I was a prick out there, especially to you,” I start. “You didn’t deserve it. It hurt my feelings the way you left, and I took it out on you like an asshole. If you don’t want to be with me, I’ll accept it.” Even though if hurts like absolute hell. Strangely, it feels good to be honest and open with a woman, despite the sting to my pride. I never want to be anything but honest with Maya.
She shakes her head. “I don’t want you to risk your chance to get back on a team.” With a sigh, she steps closer, her head hung in shame. “It almost killed me to leave this morning, but your career is way more important than a fling with me.”
Holy shit, her selflessness hits like a boot to the gut. “We can work it out,” I say. This woman deserves so much more than sneaking around, but I can’t bring myself to suggest it outright. Deep down, I know her concerns are valid, even though I don’t want them to push us apart. “I want to be with you, Maya.”
She’s so close I can feel her body heat radiating through my shirt as if our skin is already touching. I can’t stop myself any longer and grip her hips to tug her forward, closing the inch of space between us. With a sigh, she slides her hands up my chest and wraps her arms around my neck to pull my head down. The moment our lips touch, I go wild. Backing her up until she bumps into the wall, I lift her, and she wraps her legs around my waist. Her soft moans as she grinds her body against me set all my pent-up anger and sadness free, letting me focus on this moment. She was only thinking of me.
“Just say you want to be with me again,” I urge, cupping her ass and sliding my hands up her back. I can’t get enough of her, even as I try to pull her even closer.
“I do, Nathan,” she says, her breath hot against my mouth. I swipe her plump lower lip with my tongue. “But—”
“No buts,” I say before I plunge my tongue into her mouth.
There’s a skittering noise near the corner of the building, then a smothered laugh. A chill washes over me; I’ve heard that kind of laugh before. I drop Maya and turn to see someone running across the field with their phone in their hand. It’s not someone from the team, and my stomach rolls over with dread. Maya looks as horrified as I feel.
“Did they get a picture?” she asks, her hand gripping my shirt.
I cover her hand with mine to try to assuage her fear. “I don’t know.”
We have our answer moments later when my phone starts to ping relentlessly in my back pocket. My manager made me set up alerts with my name so I can monitor public opinion. Since I’ve been in America, it’s been practically silent, which is what we wanted. Just until the news of my good behavior and winning coaching started trickling back to the UK.
Feeling sick, I pull out my phone and tap into my social media accounts. Like some kind of awful magic, there are already pictures everywhere of Maya and I, locked in a passionate embrace. It was only seconds ago that she was in my arms, pressed against me, our lips entwined. I washappyonly a few seconds ago.
True to form, an angry message comes across from my manager, then a call. I ignore it, but Maya sees the message before I can lock my phone.
“Oh, no,” she moans, stepping back.
I pull her close again. This is bad, really bad. The dean here won’t look kindly on a staff member fraternizing with a student, so I’m sure I’ll be fired. But that’s the least of my worries. All I can think about is the avalanche of unwanted attention this will bring to Maya. I may not be such big news in the States, but once these pictures hit the UK news cycle, she’ll be hounded mercilessly.
“Let’s go to my apartment,” I say. “No, better yet, we’ll hide out in a hotel.” I swipe away her tears and lean to kiss her but she pulls away. “This will die down,” I promise as I try to keep her close.
“Not if we’re holed up together in some hotel. That’s just feeding the flames. Oh God, will you be fired?”
I shrug. I honestly don’t care. Not if we’re together. “Maya, that doesn’t matter right now.”
I have to get her somewhere before more people show up to take pictures, trying to get the most unflattering ones. Even her teammates can’t be trusted; if the British tabloids offer them enough money to spill dirt on her, and they likely won’t care at all what’s truth and what’s not.
“No,” she says, moving further away from me. “I won’t be the reason you lose your job, or your chance at getting your dream back. That’s why I left this morning. This was a mistake. I’m sorry.”
