Chapter Five #2
A gruff laugh cuts through my chest, and the tension breaks just enough for the possessive, dominant instinct I’ve been suppressing for months to take over. I reach out, my thumb catching her chin, tilting her face up.
“Yeah?” I ask, my eyes dropping to her lips. “You think you’re tough behind that clipboard?”
“I don’t think; I know I’m tough,” she whispers, her hands sliding up my chest. “And I’m still working. So, if you’re going to hang around, you’d better make yourself useful.”
She forcefully pushes against my chest and steps back. I let her go. My skin feels like it’s on fire where her hands were on my chest. She reaches around me and hits a key on her keyboard.
A video file pops up on the large monitor.
It’s the footage from last weekend’s game.
The screen shows me and Saint standing on the field.
My jersey is ripped on the shoulder, my helmet off, as I pace the sideline with Saint during a critical fourth-quarter drive, which ultimately cost us the game.
The audio track filters through her speakers, the deep, heavy sound of Saint’s breathing filling the room, punctuated by the roar of the crowd and the crunch of pads.
“Watch the inside.” My voice catches on Saint’s mic, and the camera zooms in on us. “He’s moving. The tackle is leaning on third down. He’s gonna get to Pitz. Fuck!”
Eva moves in front of the computer and clicks a button, pausing the footage right on a close-up of my face. My on-screen expression is wild, aggressive, and completely locked on the game.
“The network wants us to use this segment for the pregame,” she says. “But the league office is questioning the audio right after this play. And they want me to verify who’s speaking.”
I stand behind her, leaning over her shoulder, my chest brushing against her back as I watch the screen.
The video rolls, and pretty much the entire Titans sideline is yelling at the ref for the unsportsmanlike hit Pitz took.
“Get that garbage out of my house!” someone yells.
Eva hits pause again, turning her head to look up at me, our faces so close that I can see the tiny gold shimmer in her green eyes. “Garbage? That’s what the network is questioning?”
“I mean, that’s pretty mild compared to what’s said on the field.”
“Right,” she agrees. “The audio track itself is clean, but the alignment is off. I need to sync the file and make a few edits.”
She leans forward, her fingers flying across the trackpad as she zooms into the timeline. I watch her work for a second, the quiet clicking of the keys the only sound in the room. The contrast between her sharp mind and the soft, comfortable way she’s dressed is completely undoing me.
“You know,” I say softly, tugging at her hoodie, “I remember this.”
Eva’s fingers pause on the pad. She doesn’t turn her head, but I notice the slight rise and fall of her shoulders. “Oh, yeah? It’s one of my favorites. Hard to get rid of it. I’ll probably keep it till it falls apart.”
“I remember you wearing it around the house. I’d imagine you had nothing on underneath it. And the glasses are new, and I totally dig the look,” I say in a low rumble. I place my hand on her hip.
“Don’t do that, Aston,” she whispers.
“Do what?”
“Don’t tell me you noticed things like that when we were in college.
It’ll make things more complicated than they already are.
” She lifts her hand, adjusting her glasses back in place.
“And these are just blue-light-blocking glasses. I only wear them when I’m working on my computer. But I’m impressed you even noticed.”
I gently turn her with the hand on her hip to force her to look at me.
“I’m not trying to complicate things, Eva.
I’m just trying to tell you I’m tired of running from us,” I say honestly.
“I’ve spent a lot of my time thinking about you, not only when we were in college, but even more since the wedding.
I kept my distance because of my brother, but after talking to him the other day, I know he’s happy and living his best life in Florida. ”
Eva looks down when I take her hand in mine. “And what does that have to do with this?” She gestures between us.
“It means I’m done holding myself back,” I say fiercely, lifting both of my hands to cup her face and move in closer to her. “It means that I want you to give me a chance.”
“Aston, this is more complicated than me just being your brother’s ex. I have a job that puts me in front of professional athletes, and I want and need to prove myself as a serious producer. Dating a player … doesn’t exactly look great for me.”
“Okay, so we don’t tell anyone,” I say, shrugging.
I mean, if I wasn’t worried about how my brother would take it, even though I know he’s moved on, I might be pissed that she doesn’t want anyone to know.
But for now, this is probably best for us both.
“If we have to keep this a secret for a while, let’s do it.
I’ll be on my best behavior when you’re around and even let Sam ask me ridiculous questions for your entertainment.
I’ll play the game. But when the cameras are off and we’re off the field … I want to spend time with you. Alone.”
A slow smile stretches across her face, breaking through the nervousness I see in her eyes. She reaches down, her fingers moving over my chest, and then she winds her arms around my neck, pulling me closer until we’re a breath apart.
“You know, you talk a lot for a guy who should be in his room, prepping for a game tomorrow, and who’s about to be late for check-in,” she says against my lips, her green eyes flashing with heat.
“Nah, I’ve got a good fifteen minutes,” I say, inching even closer.
“Then you should stop talking so we can make better use of our time.”
I crash my mouth to hers, my tongue sliding into her mouth immediately, possessively. I want to claim her completely. My hands grip her waist beneath her hoodie, lifting her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. I move to sit on the edge of the bed so she’s straddling me.
She lets out a ragged gasp into my mouth, and her arms tighten around my neck. Then she’s grinding her hips, making my cock even harder than it already was. Her fingers slip under the collar of my T-shirt, and her nails scrape my skin with a hungry intensity that mirrors my own.
I groan into our kiss, my hands sliding up her bare back, and I notice she’s not wearing a bra.
Fuck me.
Every doubt, every ounce of guilt, forgotten.
I pull back for a fraction of a second, my chest heaving, and rest my forehead against hers as I cup her face again, my thumb brushing over her lips. Her eyes are dark, and I know she wants me as badly as I want her.
“Tell me this is just a fun night, Carrington.” I challenge, my voice rough, a dark smirk on my lips. “Tell me it’s no big deal.”
Eva lets out a breathless laugh, and her fingers tighten in my hair as she pulls my lips back to hers. “Shut up, Griffith.”
I forget about the clock and don’t even think about the coaches who’ll be checking in with me or the game I have to play in less than twenty-four hours. The world outside this room doesn’t exist right now.
But when my phone buzzes, I know my time is up. I really fucking wish we were at my house in New Jersey right now.
I slow the kiss, moving my lips over hers softly.
“You need to go,” she whispers, a smile playing on her lips. “They need you tomorrow, and we can’t risk getting caught tonight.”
“It’d be worth it,” I murmur as I lift her off my lap and stand.
She walks me to the door, and I don’t want to leave. Her hair is ruined from my hands, and her lips are swollen from our kiss. Her hoodie is hanging slightly off her shoulder, revealing her collarbone that I want to trace with my tongue.
I grab the handle, but before I open the door, I lean down and press one final kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you on the sidelines tomorrow. Try not to distract me too much.”
“No promises,” she flirts. “If you miss a tackle because you’re watching me, I’m cutting you from the highlight reel.”
“Like fuck you will.”
“Try me.”
I let out a quiet laugh, turn the handle, and slip out the door, making sure it clicks quietly behind me. The hallway is empty as I walk toward the elevators.
My body is still buzzing as I hit the button for my floor.
So, now we have a secret. Her job will be safe, and my family won’t know about us. I feel like we’ll be walking a tightrope throughout the season, but the guilt I was carrying is gone.
Maybe I’m justifying it because I want her so badly. Or maybe it’s gone because this thing between us feels so right.