Chapter Six
Mason
I stand in the middle of my suite as I look around the area. I’ve done a mighty fine job if I do say so myself. It’s difficult to create a romantic scene while attempting to not look like that’s exactly what you’re doing. Instead of candles burning, I have the gas fireplace on a low burn. The table’s set with a selection of finger foods, cheeses, meats, sushi, breads, dips, chocolates, fruits, and petite fours. My hope is to use Maria’s stomach as my plate. This might not happen, but a man can dream.
The chemistry between us is off the charts. Sitting with her during that panel had been pleasure and torture all in one. I can’t keep my hands off of her. It’s not just sexual chemistry though. I enjoy this woman, enjoy how she reacts to my flirtations, and love how easily she laughs. The fire between us is an added bonus. A relationship can work with milder chemistry, but it can thrive if you desperately want the person you’re with, and I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want Maria.
Relationships can be more than just sex, but there’s nothing without chemistry and attraction. Maria and I have both of these in hoards, and I’d love to spend this weekend figuring out exactly what makes Maria tick, and how to get those eyes to alight in desire and passion.
I have the scone lights on without the bright overheads going. Of course, Maria’s favorite wine is chilling. She’d been drinking mixed drinks when I met her, but she really savored the wine last night. I’m aiming for a perfect night, and I think I’ve achieved it. We’re supposed to be talking shop, but I hope I can make her forget all about work. This conference will go fast, and if I don’t amp things up, I might lose her before I have her.
Just as I’m handling the finishing touches, there’s a hard knock on my door. I turn and look at it with confusion. There’s no way Maria’s already here. She’s the type to show up early, but not thirty minutes early. Her schedule is much too busy for that. I walk slowly to the door as the pounding begins again. Who in the hell would be this rude? I’m a bit irritated as I move toward it. I don’t want to see anyone tonight other than Maria.
“Open up, Mason, or we’re breaking it down,” a deep voice calls through the wood. Dammit. This isn’t a knock I can ignore.
I shake my head as I chuckle, my irritation evaporating. I open the door and in spills a few of my old teammates from my NFL days. There’s immediate back pounding, laughter, and loud voices filling the room, completely shattering the romantic ambiance I’ve worked so hard to create. Normally I love to see these guys . . . but not tonight.
“Mason! It’s been too long,” Kevin, my old quarterback, shouts, as he bumps my shoulder.
“It could be longer,” I say with laughter.
The guys look around the room and their grins grow bigger. “What do you have planned here?” Tom asks.
“Looks pretty romantic to me,” Nathan adds.
“Do you have a visitor on the way?” Kevin asks as he moves to the table and picks up some bread. These guys have zero boundaries, and none of us have ever cared. We were a team for years and you live, eat, and breathe together so anything goes.
“I’m in the middle of something here, guys,” I tell them.
“Well, too bad. We have a game tomorrow night, and you need to come support your team,” Tom says.
“Fine, I’ll come to the game. Now get out,” I say, knowing it won’t do me a lick of good.
“Not a chance. There’s food here, and I’m starving,” Kevin says. He makes himself a plate and plops down on the couch, grabbing the remote. We can’t be in a room together without some sort of game playing on the television.
“You don’t want us to leave anyway, because boy do we have some gossip for you,” Tom says as he makes his own plate up. I watch in horror as the carefully organized spread is demolished by these men loading up on the food I so carefully chose. I thought I’d ordered in abundance, but now there might not be any left when Maria arrives. I may need to order more.
“Seriously good gossip. Did you hear about the meltdown Coach Taylor had last week?” Kevin asks.
Now these guys have my attention, and they know it. “What happened?”
Kevin laughs. “He utterly lost it during halftime. He threw a bunch of Gatorade coolers, yelled at the waterboy, then kicked at the table, but there was a weight down there, and he ended up breaking his toe. We were dying as we laughed. He turned and glared at us, and Peterson got caught laughing, and was sent to the locker-room.”
“Dang, what set him off?” I ask.
“Refs,” Kevin and Tom say in unison.
“I should’ve known that. He gets ticked with the refs, but I’ve never seen him lose it that big,” I say.
“It was legendary. I think the refs were shaking in their shoes. They weren’t yelling back in his face like usual. They did end up sending him out, and I thought he was going to tackle them,” Kevin says.
“That would’ve been a replay for sure,” I say.
“It was next level and will be talked about for a while. He can’t complain about us losing it now,” Tom says.
“Oh, you know he still will,” Nathan says. We all nod.
“Also, there’s some drama in the football dating realm. Jeff’s dating the owner’s daughter,” Kevin says.
“I thought she said she’d never date a football player,” I say.
“Apparently he charmed her. I think it’s his farm-boy attitude. I swear he’d come out onto the field with a piece of straw in his lips if he could. But he makes the best grilled ribs I’ve ever eaten so I’m not complaining that he was raised on a ranch,” Tom says.
“The owner isn’t thrilled about it, but you know his daughter’s his sweet princess and whatever she wants she gets,” Kevin says.
Before I can reply, there’s another knock on the door. I haven’t forgotten Maria’s coming, but I’ve been easily sidetracked by my team’s visit. I look around the room that was arranged for a night of romance just twenty-five minutes ago. Now it looks like a mix between a locker-room and poker room. There’s nothing I can do about it now. Dammit.
I look at the men. “Behave,” I warn, which makes them laugh. I move to the door and open it, knowing there’s no controlling these men.
Maria smiles at me, looking absolutely radiant and a little surprised at the invasion on the other side of the door. “Am I early?” she asks. She does have meeting after meeting at these conferences so she might be thinking she got the time mixed up.
“Nope. Though my room’s been invaded. My old teammates are in town and decided to stop by. I tried getting them out, but they obviously didn’t listen.”
This makes her laugh. “They are a bit big to push around. I like anyone who you can’t boss around,” she teases, quickly adjusting to the situation. This makes me like her even more. Some women would be impressed with the hulks of men in the room, some intimidated, and some irritated. Maria seems to be a woman to simply go with the flow and make the best of the whatever is thrown her way.
She steps inside the room, all three men staring at her. I understand why. She’s a petite package who looks fierce, confident, and absolutely gorgeous. We’d be fighting over her if she stepped into the locker-room for an interview, all of us willing to bare all of our secrets for a chance to impress this stunning woman.
The guys immediately swarm her, making introductions, and a few jokes. They like to test people to see if they’re cool enough to hang. We tend to get fawned over a lot as athletes, which gets old. We want to hang with people who treat us like family . . . excitement, fighting, and a whole lot of love.
“So, you’re the woman this man was trying to impress with a romantic scene when we crashed the party,” Kevin says with a wink.
She looks around the room. I haven’t adjusted the lights, so it’s still dim, though the romantic ambiance is long gone with the television playing the latest football game. Cheers can be heard in the background as someone makes a perfect catch.
“If you’re hanging with the football party, you have to wear a jersey,” Tom says as he pulls one out of his bag. This makes me shake my head.
“Of course I do,” Maria says, accepting the jersey and slipping it over her blouse. She looks absolutely adorable in it. The only thing better would be her wearing my old number which was retired on my team. I need to get her a jersey. I want her to wear that and nothing else as she sits on my lap.
“You better get some food before these bottomless pits eat it all,” I tell Maria.
“Then I’m grabbing some now. I’m starving. I’ve been running all day without a chance to eat more than a few chips which makes me mean,” she says. She moves to the table, grabs a plate and loads it up, much to the amusement and delight of the guys. They like a woman who will get messy with them and not sit there and eat nothing but lettuce and celery.
The atmosphere doesn’t even shift with Maria in the room. Maria fits our dynamic like a fish to water. I feel myself falling more and more under her spell as she gives as much as she gets interacting with the guys who mean the world to me, only barely behind my brother and my mom. None of the girls I’ve ever dated have fit into the little pieces of my world so perfectly, it’s a surreal feeling to watch it fall into place.
“They really need to do a better job of protecting their quarterback,” Tom mumbles as the man’s tackled for the second time in a row.
“It’s all about the penetration,” Maria says. Tom’s mouth drops open in shock. Maria winks at me and turns her face forward to the game.
“Maybe the quarterback just needs to pump fakes and put one where only the receiver can get it,” Tom says once he gets over his shock.
“Maybe the quarterback needs to take the ball in hand and score on his own merits,” Maria counters.
She turns back to the screen and lets out a whoop, as Tom groans and Kevin shouts “Interception!” I watch with the gang as the defensive lineman pushes past the last player of the other team, right into the endzone for a touchdown.
“Yes!” Maria shouts, pumping her fist in the air. “That’s the second time he’s gone all the way this season.”
“Poor guy,” Tom mumbles quietly. I muffle my chuckle. I could listen to Maria banter with my friends every single day of the week.
“You’re not supposed to cheer for the enemy team,” Kevin exclaims.
“I’m from Seattle, of course I’m going to cheer for them,” Maria responds.
“This must be why Mason likes her,” Jeff whispers to Kevin, though he’s not a quiet man and everyone hears the comment.
“A fellow Seahawks fan?” Maria asks, a wide grin lighting up her face. Her chocolate eyes dancing.
“You should’ve seen the way he mooned over the team the first time we played against them,” Kevin teases. I punch his shoulder and roll my eyes, though I really don’t care if they share anything with Maria. Every experience I’ve ever been through has shaped me into who I am today.
“Little sweet teenage Mason must’ve been so cute,” Maria says. “Tell me more.” Kevin, Nathan, and Tom take turns sharing stories. Regaling Maria with tales of locker-room pranks, field mishaps, and dates gone horribly wrong. Maria hangs onto every word, her eyes alight. Her hand comes to rest on my jean clad thigh, and I can’t help but grin.
“It seems your team likes throwing you under the bus,” Maria says as she smiles at me. Damn, I love her smile. I can’t find anything I don’t like about her. “Are you brave enough to share your most embarrassing football moment?”
“Nope. I don’t think I am,” I tell her with a laugh. She gives me a pouty look. I want to kiss that pout right off of her lips.
“Don’t worry, I have this,” Kevin says. He then gleefully launches into a story about a disastrous fumble of mine that landed me in a pretzel shape on the field.
Maria laughs, loving every moment of my discomfort. “Of course, I can pull it up for you since it was recorded,” Tom says as he pulls out his phone and brings up the video, making Maria laugh even harder. They replay it again before I swipe the phone and toss it on the couch.
“That’s embarrassing,” Maria tells me.
“Yeah, and the guys love replaying my embarrassment over and over again,” I tell her with a shake of my head. “But I have a lot on them too.”
The guys share more stories until I beg them to stop. Maria and I are now sitting on the couch with my arm behind her. Her hand still rests against my thigh. I don’t know if she even realizes it, but I’m not going to point it out and risk losing the contact. I want to reach down and rub her shoulders, but with the guys here I don’t push my luck.
“How did you become a superstar while being such a klutz?” she asks.
“I had some good moments,” I assure her.
“He might’ve had some of the most epic falls, but this man could snag a ball out of the air unlike anyone I know,” Kevin admits. I bump his fist.
“We’ve embarrassed our brother enough for the moment. How about you, Maria? Want to share anything?”
I think she’ll turn away from this challenge, but once again, she surprises me. “I only did track and cross country in high school. Before I knew how uncoordinated I was, I tried out the hurdles and my coach put me into the event for a meet with next to no training. On the very first track meet of the season I slammed into the hurdle, and me and the giant thing rolled into the next lane where we hit the girl next to me. They had to start that whole race over, without me. I decided from then on that I’d just do the running events without any special skills required.”
“You have to be tall to be a good hurdler,” Jeff teases. “No other sport moments?”
“Sports just didn’t agree with me,” Maria says with a laugh, “There was this time I was in high school when I was giving a presentation. The fire alarm went off, and I was so into my talk, it startled me. I choked on my words and let out a squeak that had me called squeaky for the next few months.”
“That’s not so bad,” Kevin says.
She shrugs. “Okay, fine. I was at a homecoming dance and doing some great moves when I tripped and fell into the refreshment table. The punch flew into the air and soaked a group of snotty girls standing near it. I was slightly embarrassed but hailed a hero by two-thirds of the student body as they went screaming from the room.”
“Nice,” Tom says, holding up his hand for a fist bump.
The night continues on with more stories, and my friends are as utterly captivated by Maria, as am I. She’s witty, charming, and definitely holds her own. I might’ve planned for a quiet, romantic evening, hopefully ending with her in my bed, but this is better . . . for the most part. This allows me to see her letting her hair down and being herself. I love it. Maybe I want more than to bring her to my bed, maybe I want to try a relationship, something I haven’t wanted to do in five years.
The guys finally say their goodbye’s and Maria tries to sneak out with them, but I hold her back, telling her I need to show her something on the computer. Kevin gives me a look, but luckily leaves without another word.
“Finally got rid of them,” I say with a laugh.
“They were great. I know there’s a ton of work to do, but that was wonderful.”
I love that she means this. She truly enjoyed the boys. There isn’t a drop of food or wine left, but the evening really has been great.
“I can’t believe how well you fit in with those boys. They can be a bit overwhelming,” I tell her.
“I have brothers and lots of cousins so I fit in well with the guys. Sometimes I’m more comfortable with men than women, especially when I’m not being hit on every five minutes.”
“With your looks and personality I see why all of the boys are hitting on you,” I tell her.
“Like you?” she teases.
“I’m past hitting on you, Maria. I’ve told you I want you already,” I tell her. My tone lowers and I want to pull her to me.
“Don’t give me that look, Mason. We have work to do,” she warns, but she’s still smiling which I consider a win.
We move to the couch, and I bring out my laptop. As much as I want to put work away for the night, that’s why we’re at this conference. We still have time, and I’m going to make the best of it. I might not be getting her horizontal yet, but this is a close second because we’re side by side and doing something we both love. Relationships are about more than sex, I remind myself. Sure, sex is certainly a goal, but I’m liking all the rest when it comes to Maria. She stimulates me in more ways than one . . . and I want it to keep happening.