Chapter 39
thirty-nine
. . .
Avery
It’s the Thanksgiving game, and the energy in the stadium is electric. The crowd roars, their excitement practically vibrating through the air, and I can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed as I sit in the skybox.
The view is insane—glass walls overlooking the field, plush seats, endless food and drinks. Cassie’s practically bouncing beside me, her excitement contagious, while Brielle lounges on the other side, sipping champagne and scrolling through her phone.
“This is so cool!” Cassie gushes, grabbing another nacho. “And the fact that Griffin is starting? I mean, come on. Talk about a big moment.”
I nod, forcing a smile as I watch Griffin trot out onto the field. My chest tightens, and my stomach twists in a way that has nothing to do with the ridiculous number of wings I just ate.
Because—damn.
He looks…incredible.
The sharp lines of his uniform, the confident swagger in his step, the way the lights bounce off his helmet—it’s like he was made to be out there.
Although he’s looked good when I’ve come over to his penthouse every night this week, too.
And then, just as the camera zooms in on him, he turns slightly, jogging toward the sideline, and my stomach drops.
Because his butt?
Yeah, it’s ridiculous. Perfectly sculpted, filling out those pants in a way that should be illegal.
I tear my eyes away, swallowing hard, but the image is already burned into my brain. I actually laugh a little, recalling when he made fun of me by calling me bubble butt. And then insisted it was a compliment.
“You okay?” Cassie asks, glancing at me giggling to myself.
“Yeah,” I reply quickly, grabbing my glass of water to keep my hands busy. “Just…trying to focus on the game.”
Cassie nods, oblivious, and leans forward as Griffin huddles with his team. I let out a slow breath, trying to calm the pounding in my chest.
Because watching him out there?
It’s a problem.
A big, gorgeous, maddening problem.
And I’m in way too deep. Because we need to tell Cassie—and we’ve established we’ll tell her together. In Tahoe. Tomorrow.
It’s hard. Especially when he pulls off his helmet, running a hand through his damp hair, his eyes scanning the crowd like he knows exactly where I’m sitting.
And then, as if the universe wants to make things worse, Brielle pipes up.
“You know, Griffin’s looking pretty good out there,” she says, her voice casual but smug. “I mean, not that he doesn’t always look good, but…wow. Especially for a rookie.”
Cassie grins, leaning forward. “Wait. Do you have a thing for Griffin?”
My heart skips a beat, and I glance at Brielle, trying to read her expression.
She shrugs, a coy smile playing on her lips. “Who wouldn’t? The guy’s a star. And, fun fact, he’s actually my cousin’s friend. So, you know, I’ve known him forever.”
Cassie’s eyes widen. “What?! You never told me that!”
“It’s not a big deal,” Brielle replies, waving her hand. “But yeah. He’s great. And single, I think?”
Cassie gasps, her eyes darting to me. “Avery, what do you think? Should Brielle shoot her shot?”
My mouth goes dry, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Uh…”
Before I can come up with an excuse, the crowd erupts, drawing everyone’s attention back to the field.
Griffin’s just made an incredible catch for a touchdown, and the entire stadium is on its feet, cheering.
“Hell yeah!” Cassie shouts, clapping.
I force a smile, clapping along, but my gaze stays locked on Griffin as he jogs toward the field goal post. He pulls something out—his phone.
I frown, watching as he types something quickly, then grins and winks toward the camera.
The announcers are laughing, speculating about what he’s doing, and the crowd’s buzzing with curiosity.
And then it happens.
The buzz of my phone in my lap pulls my attention like a magnet. My fingers tremble as I unlock the screen, praying Cassie doesn’t notice.
Griffin: Do you feel it too? Sitting there, pretending to focus on the game, but all you can think about is my hands on you. Bet you’re soaking wet already. Aren’t you?
My heart stutters, the heat in my cheeks spreading like wildfire. I quickly lock the screen, my hand tightening around the phone as if I can will the words away.
But they don’t go away.
They linger.
The worst part? He’s right.
Every time I glance at him on the field—his powerful legs flexing as he moves, the confident way he commands the game—it’s like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
I cross my legs, shifting in my seat, trying to block out the image of his hands, his mouth, his voice growling in my ear.
Cassie nudges me, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. “Are you okay? You’re all red.”
“Yeah,” I croak, forcing a smile. “Just… hot in here.”
She frowns, glancing around. “It’s freezing, actually. Are you coming down with something?”
“No!” I blurt, maybe a little too loudly.
Her eyes narrow, suspicious, but thankfully she gets distracted by Brielle, who’s gushing about Griffin’s latest play.
My heart pounds as my phone buzzes again in my lap, Griffin’s name flashing on the screen like a damn neon sign.
I glance at Cassie and Brielle—they’re deep in conversation about some celebrity gossip—and quickly unlock my phone, my hands trembling slightly.
Griffin: Avery. Don’t ignore me. Answer the question.
My cheeks flame, my thighs pressing together instinctively as I reread his words. The tension between my legs is unbearable, and I can still feel his touch like a ghost on my skin.
I hesitate, staring at the blank text box, my thumb hovering over the keyboard.
This is dangerous.
This is reckless.
And I’m doing it anyway.
My fingers move before I can stop myself.
Me: Wouldn’t you like to know?
I hit send, my pulse racing as I toss the phone back into my lap, biting back a grin.
The response is almost instant.
Griffin: Yes. That’s why I asked. Now tell me.
My breath catches, my legs crossing tightly as heat pools low in my stomach. I should stop. I should shut this down.
Instead, I lean into it.
Me: What makes you think I’d admit it, Knox?
I press send and glance up at the field, catching sight of him on the bench. His teammates are talking around him, but he’s not paying them any attention.
He’s staring up at the skybox, his phone in hand, his smirk growing wider as he reads my text.
My phone buzzes again.
Griffin: Because I know you. And I know how much you want me.
The air catches in my throat, my cheeks burning as I quickly type back:
Me: If you’re so sure, why don’t you come find out after the game?
This time, when I glance down at the field, Griffin’s head tilts, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin.
And when the announcers comment on the confidence in his expression, the way he’s clearly having the time of his life, I know I’ve just given him all the motivation he needs.
I’m so screwed.
Griffin: Well. You’re catching the early flight to Tahoe. But I’m going to make you scream my name so loud in Tahoe, once I get there, they’ll hear you back in Mexico.
The game ends in a roar of cheers, the crowd on their feet as Griffin trots off the field, helmet in hand, his jersey clinging to him from the sweat and effort.
I should be focused on the final score, the victory celebration spilling out around us, but all I can think about is his text.
"I’m going to make you scream my name so loud in Tahoe, they’ll hear you back in Mexico."
My cheeks flush again, the words replaying in my mind as I try not to squirm in my seat.
Cassie’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
“What is happening right now?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at the TV screen in front of us.
I follow her gaze. On the broadcast, Griffin is surrounded by reporters, his cocky smirk practically daring them to keep pushing.
“Griffin, you seemed extra confident tonight. Who did you text after that touchdown?” one of the reporters asks, shoving a mic in his face.
Griffin doesn’t hesitate. He leans in, his grin widening as he replies, “My lady.”
The reporter laughs, clearly fishing for more. “Oh? Just one lady? Do you have more than one?”
Griffin shakes his head, his voice dropping a notch. “No. Just one.”
The entire skybox goes silent, the words hanging in the air like a bomb waiting to detonate.
Cassie gasps, turning to me, her eyes wide. “What? Griffin has a girlfriend, and he didn’t tell me? I can’t believe him!”
Beside her, Brielle’s face falls, her disappointment almost theatrical. “Wish it was me,” she sighs, swirling the champagne in her glass. She glances at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Don’t you, Avery?”
My stomach twists, a thousand responses tangling on my tongue.
“Uh, I mean…” I stammer, feeling the weight of both their gazes on me.
Cassie leans closer, her curiosity practically vibrating off her. “Did he say anything to you? You’ve known him forever—do you know who it is?”
I laugh awkwardly, grabbing my drink and taking a long sip to avoid answering.
“I have no idea,” I finally manage, my voice coming out higher than I’d like.
Cassie frowns, looking back at the screen. “I’m going to call him. He better pick up.”
Oh God.
As Cassie pulls out her phone, I glance back at the field where Griffin is still grinning like he owns the place.
We need to tell everyone.
And stat.
But before Cassie can hit dial, her phone buzzes with a reminder, and she glances at the screen.
“Shoot, we better go,” she says, standing and grabbing her coat. “We’re going to miss our flight to Tahoe. I think Griffin’s catching a later flight. We can talk to him about this there.”
My heart stops.
Tahoe.
One big house.
No escape.
I force a smile, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Right. Wouldn’t want to miss the flight.”
Cassie gives me a look as she grabs her bag. “You’re acting weird.”
“What? No, I’m not.”
“You totally are.” She narrows her eyes, and for a second, I think she’s pieced it all together. But then she shrugs, turning toward the exit. “Let’s go. Brielle, you coming?”
Brielle sighs dramatically, tossing her empty champagne flute onto the table. “As much as I’d love to stay and watch Griffin’s post-game interviews… I guess so.”
I trail behind them, my mind racing.
Tahoe isn’t just a ticking time bomb anymore.
It’s a grenade with the pin already pulled.
And Griffin and I?
We’re going to have to figure out how to survive it—together.
Because as important as Griffin is—becoming? To me. Cassie is, important, too.