Chapter 22 Chelsea
Chelsea
IT’S PAST CURFEW for the players. Past my bedtime, too.
And yet, I’m lying awake in my hotel bed, secretly working on Luca’s personalized playbook.
Seriously, though, what sane woman could even think about falling asleep after watching Luca smashing it at two straight scrimmages?
Luca’s triumph has been especially thrilling, because Moriarty’s looked sluggish, sloppy, and rusty alongside Luca’s sharp performances.
I realize I should have been rooting for Moriarty to show up in top form, given that he’s the Mastodons’ poster boy and I’ve been tasked with whipping him into shape.
But I couldn’t help but feel enthralled watching Luca wiping the turf with him, over and over again.
Thankfully, when Luca quickly realized Moriarty wasn’t keeping up with him, he stopped acting like such an insecure little prick toward me and everything went back to normal between us.
Whatever that means. Ever since Raul interrupted us almost having sex the other night, I’m not quite sure what’s normal for us any longer.
But anyway, based on Luca’s recent performance in scrimmages, I’m now more determined than ever to get Luca across the line and onto the active roster, even though I’m not technically assigned to him anymore.
Following tomorrow night’s preseason exhibition game at our home stadium, if there’s any indication Luca’s not an easy “keep” for the following week, then I’ve already decided I’m going to go balls to the wall with my father in that night’s meeting and beg him to give Luca another game to prove himself.
Rinse and repeat, as necessary, until Number Ninety-Five is wearing a Mastodons jersey at the opening game of the regular season.
I’m going to fight for Luca, not only because I’d kill for that job in operations but also because I know deep in my bones Luca is the impact player the Mastodons need to boost their defense.
Moreover, he’s a perfect fit for the team in terms of personality and leadership skills.
Everyone in our locker room adores Luca Maguire.
And that makes him especially effective at inspiring his teammates to give their all, just like he does, during each and every play.
I’m so damned convinced Luca is the missing ingredient to what could be our new unstoppable era, I’ve formulated an idea for a new defensive scheme.
One that would require two edge rushers to line up on our side of the ball together, rather than only Moriarty lining up while his backup sits idly by waiting to relieve him.
First things first, though, I have to get Luca through the next three weeks of preseason games and onto the fifty-three-man roster. And that’s what I’m still determined to do, even if I’m no longer officially assigned to him as his personal coach.
A quiet tapping noise draws my attention to the right side of the room, and when I look toward the sound, a scream hurtles out of me at the face staring at me from the other side of my balcony’s sliding glass door.
Wait, that’s Luca. He’s standing on my third-story balcony and pressing his face comically against the glass!
My heart racing, I lurch out of bed and bound over to him.
“What the hell?” I shout. Gruffly, I open the door and add, “You almost gave me a heart attack!”
“You paid me an unexpected and delightful visit the other night,” he says calmly. “So I figured it’s only polite to return the favor.”
“Jesus Christ!” I grab the front of his Mastodons sweatshirt and yank him into my room. “Someone might have seen you!”
He snickers. “Only Spider-Man. He was coming down as I was going up.”
“How the heck did you even get here?”
“I climbed.”
I blink rapidly, feeling flabbergasted. “You could have broken every bone in your body, Luca. My room is three stories up!”
He waves dismissively at the notion. “I’m an excellent climber.”
“A promise-breaker, too. You swore you wouldn’t come to my room again, remember?”
Luca raises an index finger. “Actually, I promised not to come to your door again. That’s exactly what you made me promise, and I never have.”
I stare in slack-jawed awe for a long moment.
I’ve never felt such utterly conflicting emotions in my life: simultaneous rage and arousal.
This nutjob is a maniac for pulling such a reckless and stupid stunt, especially on the eve of his first preseason game when everything’s on the line.
But that doesn’t make the fact that he apparently couldn’t stay away any less enthralling and hot.
“After all the times you’ve called me Montague,” Luca says. “Did you really think I’d never appear on Juliet’s balcony at some point?”
I run a palm down my face. “Romeo stood underneath Juliet’s balcony, Luca. He didn’t maniacally climb a three-story hotel facade after curfew like a lizard and then smash his face against Juliet’s sliding glass like a Peeping Tom. Never give me a heart attack like that again.”
“I promise I’ll text before climbing up next time.”
“There won’t be a next time!” I throw up my hands. “Seriously, how the hell did you get all the way up here?”
Luca flashes a self-satisfied smile. “It was easy. I just did a little shimmy up a drainage pipe that was thankfully attached by someone who took pride in their work, and then I leaped like a flying squirrel from balcony to balcony, did some pull-ups to get where I needed to go next, and boomshakalaka, here I am.”
I blow out my cheeks in disbelief. “If anyone saw you, you’ll get cut. Is that what you want, after all the hard work you’ve put in?”
“Yes, Chelsea. That’s exactly what I want.”
“You’ve smoked Moriarty in back-to-back scrimmages and made him look like a clown, and now—”
“That’s why I had to come see you! To celebrate how much I’ve dog-walked Moriarty!
Oh my God, Chelsea, I’ve been making him look like an overpaid backup!
” With a happy cackle, he enthusiastically raises a palm for a high five, and as pissed and freaked out as I feel in this moment, I couldn’t possibly leave him hanging.
Not when he’s smiling like that. And not when he really has made Moriarty’s new deal look like a very bad decision, indeed.
Begrudgingly, I slap Luca’s palm with mine. “Moriarty wishes you made him look like an overpriced backup. He looked more like an overpriced member of the practice squad to me.”
Luca whoops at that and folds me into a bear hug without warning, and the second my face is smashed into the soft fleece covering his hard chest, I’m instantly hit with a scent that sends tingles racing across all my most intimate nerve endings: the musky, delicious scent of Luca’s distinctive aftershave.
“I’m gonna make this team, baby,” Luca murmurs into the top of my head. “And it’s all because of you.”
I press my nose into his warm chest and inhale deeply, reveling in his intoxicating aroma and the sensation of his strong arms wrapped around me. “I know you are,” I murmur, my voice stifled by his body. “But you’re going to do it all by yourself.”
All of a sudden, I feel a certain bulge poking at me, and just like that, our warm, happy embrace has ignited into something heated and sexual. Plainly, our wholesome celebration is now over and has morphed into foreplay.
Luca pulls back slightly from our hug, enough to peer down into my upturned face. He slides a finger underneath my chin and bends to kiss me, but before his lips meet mine, I muster the will to step back and shake my head.
“Oh my God,” he mutters.
“We can’t, Luca.”
“We can, Chelsea. We must.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“You’re not my coach anymore, and we’ve got something amazing to celebrate.”
“I’m still on the staff and you’re still a player. Plus, I’d be an atomic bomb to your career, if anyone—”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m not willing to do anything that might mess things up for you. Especially not now. Also, what if you having blue balls is the secret sauce to how well you’ve been doing at scrimmages?”
“Come on, Chelsea. I’m not a boxer.”
“Huh?”
“They notoriously don’t have sex before fights. Or maybe that’s only in movies. Who knows. Either way, I’ll take the risk.”
I shake my head. “Let’s get through tomorrow’s game, and then we’ll revisit this.”
Luca’s eyebrow perks up, and I realize I’ve given myself away. I want him. Desperately. Wantonly. So badly, it hurts. And I’m hanging on by the barest of threads here.
“It’s already well past when you should be fast asleep,” I blurt.
“Are you saying you’re fine with our very first time being lightning fast?
Because that’s all we’d have time for, and barely that if we did what you’re suggesting.
” I step back and fold my arms over my chest. “If that’s truly your game plan—a quickie with me, after all this buildup—then I’m honestly deeply unimpressed and offended. ”
Luca smirks. “Wow, Chelsea. I only came here to get a little good luck kiss for tomorrow.”
I bat his shoulder and laugh. “Liar.”
Luca chuckles with me, conceding he’s full of shit. “Okay, let’s forget about ‘revisiting’ this later and make an airtight deal right now. If I pull off a sack tomorrow in whatever paltry minutes of playing time they give me, then promise you’ll jump my bones in celebration afterward.”
My clit feels like it’s nodding furiously at the idea, even though my brain knows all the same reasons to say no will still exist. I place a hand on my hip. “The enticement of my flesh is only worth one measly sack to you?”
Luca grins wickedly, plainly realizing he’s got a fish on his line. “Oh, it’s worth a whole lot more than that, baby, but it’s the best I can offer you, considering how few minutes they’ll likely put me in.”
I take a step forward, and the air between us feels like it’s become electrified. “If you ask me, the promise of me spreading my legs for you should be worth at least ten sacks.”