Chapter Six #3
"Yep. I drafted at eighteen and signed with the Wind shortly after. I took online classes whenever I could to ensure I had a degree in case shit didn't work out."
"Wow," she says, impressed. "And here I thought you were just something pretty to look at."
I throw my head back, laughing loudly. "You're a merciless savage, you know that?"
"I'm aware." She grins at me. "I work with teenagers. If you aren't a little savage, you won't survive."
"So…athletic scholarships?"
"Yes. We have a lot of kids who are talented enough to play at the college level, but there isn't enough funding to go around, so they get passed over in favor of athletes whose families can assume some of the costs.
If we start by creating a separate endowment specifically for athletically gifted students, we can give them a chance they otherwise wouldn't have," she murmurs.
"And once we've funded it, it'll be easier to fund everything else. "
"How so?"
"Results," she says, shrugging. "You can talk about GPAs and admissions test scores to potential donors all day long, but they don't really hear you.
Academic measurements don't mean a whole lot to most people, especially when the world is full of successful people who damn near failed high school.
But when you tell them that your organization helped send their new favorite college quarterback, running back, goalie, or whatever to college? They listen then."
"Clever."
"I know."
"When can you be in Chicago?"
"About that…"
"It's non-negotiable, beautiful."
"Why?"
Because I want you close.
"Because I have a job to do, too." It's not a lie. I do have a job to do, too. And she can't really argue with that. It's not like I can attend practice or ask Coach to let me play from here. But she can do a lot of what she does from anywhere, at least temporarily.
"Fine," she grumbles. "But just so we're clear, I don't like it, Briggs."
"Oh, I'm aware." I grin at her again, amused at the cute fucking glower on her face. "But you'll get over it when donation checks start rolling in."
"Says you," she sniffs, her chin in the air. "You aren't the one uprooting your life for who knows how long because a goalie decided to help support your nonprofit to make stalking you easier."
"This isn't stalking, sweetness," I say, laughing.
"Oh, yeah? Then what do you call it, Briggs?"
"Guaranteeing an outcome I can live with."
She tilts her head, her expression inquisitive. "And what outcome are you trying to guarantee?"
"You and me, beautiful," I murmur. "You and me."
"Where are you staying?" Tia asks, her face tilted up toward me as we linger on the icy sidewalk outside of the restaurant after dinner. The chill in the air is biting, but I'm not ready to leave yet. I'd rather stay right here, freezing my ass off.
"Why?" I tease, smirking at her. "Is this your way of asking if I want to stay with you?"
"What? No!" she cries immediately, only to bite her bottom lip. "I have a guest room."
Fuck.
I tug her up against my body, brushing my lips against her ear. "You trust me to behave myself, beautiful?"
"No," she whispers, her voice shaking. "But I have a lock on my door. And a knife under my mattress."
"Good girl." I bite her bottom lip, my dick throbbing. I fucking love knowing that she knows how to take care of herself. I love that she's independent. Hell, I'm falling for every goddamn thing about her.
If I were a better man, I'd decline her invitation and go back to my hotel for the night. But I'm not that man. I want to be in her space for as long as she'll let me. Doesn't matter if it's down the hall. Just knowing she's under the same roof sounds enticing as hell.
"I'll stay with you tonight," I murmur, not missing the way she sags into me a little, almost like she's relieved. I also don't miss the way she immediately reins herself in, pulling back. She wants to give in to this so fucking badly, but she isn't there yet.
I'll take any and every excuse I can get to worm my way under her defenses, to spend time with her…to prove that she can let her guard down and keep letting me in.
"I'm not sleeping with you," she whispers, her breath fogging the air. "I just don't want to leave my best friend's brother-in-law in a hotel when I have a spare room."
"Yeah?" My lips quirk at the corners. She's so full of shit. "Maybe I'm not sleeping with you, either."
"Whatever," she grumbles, trying to slip out of my arms.
I stop her at the last second, pulling her flush against me. My lips come down on hers in a hard kiss. She tastes like wine and strawberries from the sorbet she had for dessert. The combination is intoxicating.
Hell, everything about her is intoxicating.
Will she hear me moaning her name from down the hall tonight when I jerk off? Will she touch herself when she hears me? God, I fucking hope so.
I break the kiss with a groan, pulling back.
Her breathing is unsteady, her cheeks flushed. "We're definitely not doing that, either."
"Wouldn't dream of it," I whisper, my voice coming out husky and low.
She shivers in response, and I know damn well that she's right there with me, even if she isn't ready to admit it yet.