Chapter 27 #2
I hate seeing my friend this upset. It’s carried over to the court, with some of the mean girls in the league mumbling comments to her. I’m trying not to get into fights since my suspension, but some of the girls make it hard for me not to retaliate.
Fallon walks over and looks at my phone. She sucks in a breath. “Holy crap. I hope no children can see that thing. It will give them nightmares for weeks.”
She squeezes my shoulder and whispers into my ear, “And congratulations.”
I can’t help but giggle. Yep, I’m a lucky bitch. Hands off, ladies. He’s all mine.
I’m riding over to the football game with Sulley and her bodyguard, Keith.
He’s been with her for a few months. I’m glad I’m only in the famous-ish category.
Famous enough to get endorsement deals and occasionally recognized, but not famous enough to have stalkers like Sulley.
She’s had a few scares of late, and Keith gives her peace of mind.
He’s big, bald, and doesn’t say a word. I love having him around.
He drives us everywhere, doesn’t bother us, and keeps people appropriately at bay.
I’m grateful for the opportunities my newfound celebrity has given me, but sometimes fans can get a little too close for comfort. There’s a time and place for that.
Reagan purchased a suite for all the Camels’ home games and gives us uninhibited use. Is there any better owner in professional sports than Reagan Daulton? I’m pretty sure there’s not.
We’re the only team in the league with a private jet.
She said she doesn’t want us to have to be delayed on the whims of the commercial airlines.
We’re also the only team in the league that plays to sell-out crowds every single game.
Thank you, Sulley, for that. Coming to this team from New York has been the best thing to ever happen to me.
We clinched the three seed in the playoffs tonight.
If things go as I hope, we could be on a collision course to play New York in the finals.
We have to get there, and so do they, but nothing would make me happier than beating my old team for my first championship.
The way our team is gelling right now makes me think it’s within the realm of reason.
Sulley and I chat about our secret relationships.
Me with Daylen and her with Vance. She had already told me about her relationship, but I finally opened up to her about Daylen and me a few weeks ago.
I think we both needed the ability to talk to someone without judgment, and that’s what we give each other.
It’s nice to have her to talk to, and I think she feels the same way about me.
I’m the only one on our team who knows about the two of them, though I think others suspect it.
Vance practically undresses her with his eyes anytime they’re around each other.
I also finally opened up to some of my teammates about the drugging incident on New Year’s Eve.
I’m not sure I realized how much it impacted me until I finally confided in my friends about it.
They all cried for an hour. Sulley felt so bad for not being in town, and the rest for not noticing.
Obviously it wasn’t their fault. It was an unfortunate, eye-opening situation, and I will be forever grateful to Daylen for doing what he did for me.
In discussing it further with Sulley, we determined it was the moment things took a turn in my relationship with Daylen.
How could I ever again hate a man who did that for me?
The Camels’ game is underway when we arrive. Because I’m with Sulley, we enter through a private, secured entrance and are escorted to a private elevator that leads directly into the suite. Yep, there are perks to being Sulley O’Shea’s best friend.
It’s a back-and-forth, tight game, with both teams not having any trouble moving the ball up the field. I can see Beau fired up on the bench, yelling at the other defensive players. I wouldn’t want to be on Beau Fudd’s shit list. It looks scary.
The Camels have the ball now on their own twenty-yard line. The ball is snapped, and the entire defensive line is running uninhibited toward Vance. I can’t imagine having five three-hundred-pound men running at me wanting to crush me into tiny pieces. Poor Vance.
It’s a screen pass to Daylen just a few yards down the field.
He breaks one tackle and then another. One of their cornerbacks grabs onto his waist, but Daylen drags him as if he’s not there until the guy falls off him.
Daylen manages to zigzag and stiff-arm defenders until he runs all the way to the other end zone and then unnecessarily leaps headfirst into the endzone, capping it off with a somersault.
He stands and does a little freestyle swimming routine with his arms, followed by doing the official swim dance move by holding his nose and shimmying down.
He then looks up to our suite with a big smile and makes a heart with his fingers before lifting his jersey to reveal a Beavers T-shirt underneath.
I can’t help but laugh, as does everyone in our suite and the rest of the stadium. I know people assume the heart is for the Beavers, but I’m pretty sure it was for me.
After a winning game, the guys like to celebrate at a nearby bar with the fans.
I send Sulley over without me. I want to wait for Daylen at his car.
I’m like a lovesick puppy. I can’t get enough of him, and I can’t publicly embrace him like I want to.
I’ll do so by his car before we head over to the bar.
While I’m standing by his Jeep, I get a text from Pierce. He was at my game today with my mother and her boy toy. She kept trying to get my attention, but I ignored her. I always do. I don’t know why she keeps trying.
Pierce: Awesome game today. Can you stop by my dorm room? Need to talk.
That’s very unlike him. I respond right away.
Me: Of course. Are you okay?
Pierce: Yes. How long?
Me: About thirty minutes.
Pierce: See you then.
I’m worried. I saw his room when he moved in, but he’s never asked me to come by. It must be important.
It’s now dark outside, and the parking lot is nearly empty. All the fans are gone. It’s just players’ cars, and some of them have already started leaving. Daylen should be out any minute now.
I hear Daylen before I see him. His laugh is hard to miss. I can’t help but smile when I hear it.
When he finally notices me waiting by his Jeep, his entire face lights up. He’s so freakin’ happy to see me. It feels good.
“Nice game,” I say.
He wordlessly approaches, drops his bag, and immediately pins me to his Jeep with his body as his soft, plump lips caress my mouth. The familiar taste of strawberries delights my taste buds. I should be worried that someone could see us, but I have zero fucks to give right now.
He grabs my face and deepens this kiss like he hasn’t kissed me in weeks, when in reality it was just this morning. It’s seductive. It’s intoxicating. It’s perfect. I’m falling deeper and deeper for him every day that passes.
An intruding noise eventually causes us to breathlessly break apart, though our faces remain close together. I breathe, “Wow, I should wait for you more often.”
He traces my lipstick-smeared, swollen lips with his thumb. “I like you waiting for me.”
“I like your dance moves. Nice touchdown celebration.”
A big grin breaks out on his face. “That was for you.”
I nod. “I know. I loved it. I wanted to thank you before we got to the bar, but my brother just texted that he needs me. I’m going to Uber over there. I’ll come by later tonight.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want you alone in an Uber. I’ll drive you.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been Ubering alone for a decade. You should go and celebrate with your teammates. It was a big win.”
He scowls. “Not happening. I’d rather celebrate alone with you anyway. Get in the damn car. We’ll stop by Pierce’s and then go to my house, where I will feed you and then fuck you.”
His protective, take-charge demeanor should bother me, but it turns me on, and he knows it. “You’re a Neanderthal, you know that?”
“You love it, Cruella.” He points to the passenger side of his Jeep. “Car. Now.”
Fuck, he’s so hot.
While we’re driving, he squeezes my thigh. “Do you know what I learned today?”
“That Speedos are extremely revealing and women love a good bulge?” I cheekily reply.
“No, wise ass. I learned that you’re a black belt in karate. I never stood a chance, did I?”
I giggle. “You could have asked. You assumed I couldn’t knock your sexy ass down. Don’t ever underestimate me. I only make bets I’m confident I can win.”
He bites back his smile and breathes, “Unreal. I was set up.”
“I owed you one for setting me up with the Champ bet.”
He smirks. “I suppose, but I’m pretty sure you got me back with the fake dick pic. I was five seconds away from sending you a real dick pic to prove you wrong.
I laugh. “Newsflash, women don’t like dick pics. We like come-shot videos with the sound turned on.” I shiver at the thought. “Getting one of those from you would be a huge turn-on.”
He raises an eyebrow. “That can be arranged. How about a new bet?”
“I’m listening,” I respond.
“The going home from the hospital outfit for our baby. If it’s a girl, I choose. If it’s a boy, you choose. Either way, I’ll send you that video.”
I’m not confident I’m winning this one, but I’ll take the video. And I’ve come to love his playful demeanor. He’s so fun.
Holding out my hand, I offer, “Deal.”
He happily shakes my hand in return. “Deal.”
I can’t help my smile. “If it’s a boy, will we name him Richard Dickgrabber? We can call him little Dickie.”
His head snaps to me. “You remember that?”
I nod and sigh. “I suppose I remember a lot of what you’ve said since I met you. Like when you told me I was the kind of person who didn’t have real friends.” I didn’t mean for it to come off with as much edge as it did.