18. 18 Nathan
18: Nathan
M y helmet feels too tight on my head, squeezing my skull and compressing my thoughts. All I see is the ball—honing in on its position and where it’s heading. The Medford Heroes are losing by eight points, which relieves me, but I know how quickly things can change. We need to stay focused.
Except I can’t.
Because my head continues to snap to last night when Mae was in my bed, whimpering for me. She’d begged me to touch her with her eyes, and I knew that if we were to go any further, we wouldn’t be able to stop.
I’d still been so hard this morning thinking about it that when she left, I had to jerk off in the shower with her name lingering on my lips.
She’d managed to slip out of my room and back into hers, and when Madison opened the door for her, Mae lied about when exactly she’d gone down to reception and realised she’d forgotten her key. As far as Madison knew, she’d only been gone a few minutes.
Adrenaline soars through me as I watch one of the opposition's quarterbacks fling the ball, sending it spiralling perfectly into his teammate’s grasp. Their players move like a well-oiled machine, but Evan is fast, and he tackles the guy to the ground.
We’ve been playing well lately, but as the games go on, our opponents keep getting better. It’s making me nervous.
The referee’s whistle sounds, indicating the second fifteen-minute quarter has ended. There’s a twelve-minute halftime break, and our cheerleaders are due to perform. Most of the team heads down the tunnel towards the locker rooms, but Bennett and I stick around.
I want to watch Mae’s performance. I know she’s nervous.
I want her back in my bed. It’s going to feel lonely tonight without her. The soft rise and fall of her chest when asleep was both comforting and torturous. Every instinct in me begged to reach out and touch her again. I couldn’t stop staring at her. Her tits in that slinky tank top. Her midriff slightly on show, tanned and toned. The curve of her ass underneath her frilly shorts.
But the weight of reality is burdensome.
This girl has the ability to fucking ruin me.
And my life.
I had wanted to savour the moment. I haven't had a woman in my bed for a long time—not that I’d missed it—but having Mae so close to me was different. It felt right. And yet, our contracts tell us it’s wrong.
She’d opened up to me about her father, and I know how hard that was for her. She showed me the reason behind that fake confidence. The jutted-out chin and puffed chest. The sassy comments. The narrowed eyes.
It wasn’t just because of Renee.
It makes sense now, and I realise that Mae Bexley is nothing like her mother. She’s not the princess I initially believed her to be—although the nickname has stuck.
She’s not condescending or insulting. Instead, she’s a woman who’s endured a shit ton of stuff she doesn’t deserve but who still plasters on a smile to make everyone around her happy.
I dislike people judging me. I don’t like when they make assumptions, yet I’d done the exact same thing with Mae. And boy, had I been wrong about her.
The stories of my own childhood are on the tip of my tongue around her, but I reel them back every time. The thought of being vulnerable sends a shiver down my spine.
I don’t want to feel as helpless as I did as a child. I know things are different now. Circumstances have changed. But reliving the life I once had takes me away from who I now am. A confident man. An unbothered man. I don’t want to take backwards steps.
The crowd roars as the cheerleaders step out, holding their red and white pom-poms to their hips. There isn’t a person out of place as they skip across the grass, all smiles and flowy hair.
“Wow, they look great,” Bennett mutters, and I clip him over the back of the head.
“That’s my sister you’re talking about.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” My best friend snickers.
I watch Mae. She takes a deep breath, and her eyes meet mine, rounding in the realisation that I’m here.
The girls move in perfect unison as the music starts, their bright uniforms shimmering under the shining stadium lights. The blend of athleticism and artistry is impressive. I’ve never paid much attention to their cheerleading routines, but wherever Mae goes, it seems to spark my interest.
She could sit and watch paint dry, and I’d find the action fascinating.
Renee stands on the sidelines. She’s scrutinising the girls, her eyes narrowed into slits as she stands with her hands on her hips. She isn’t clapping along like everyone else.
Then, her eyes catch mine, and she cocks her head, eyes bouncing between Bennett and me. It appears she wants to ask what we’re still doing out here, but she wouldn't waste her breath on us.
I laugh inside. If only she knew I was rock fucking hard for her daughter last night.
The music fades out as the girls finish their routine, and I cheer with the rest of the stadium, a small smile gracing my lips as Mae’s head twizzles to take one last dazzling look at me before she follows the rest of the girls back down the tunnel.
Pride swarms me. I know it shouldn't. I shouldn’t care. But I do.
Mae doesn’t want to be here. She doesn't want to be a cheerleader, but I admire her for putting her desires aside just to make someone else happy.
Not many people would do that, and it just emphasises how much of an honourable person she is.
I fiddle with the neckline of my navy shirt outside the fancy restaurant. It’s too tight, and I’m not used to wearing them. I practically live in jerseys.
The team, including the cheerleaders, are here for a meal with the founders of the charity ClimateAid—organised by Renee at Peter’s request. Not that she’s coming, though. She doesn’t want to spend more time with us than necessary.
I feel guilty being here, though.
Peter was behind the donation, which the team and I didn’t even know about until last week.
And now we have to sit with the founders and pretend their charity is something we’re passionate about when, in reality, we don’t know much about it.
I’d tried to brush up on some facts last night, but then I’d heard someone’s footsteps outside my room and the soft cursing of a particular honey-haired, hazel-eyed beauty, and my mind decided it was going to morph itself into a dry sponge—unable to soak up a thing.
Poppy’s waiting beside me, her lip pulled into her mouth. Everyone else is inside at the bar, mingling with the founders. But Mae’s not here yet, and it’s starting to worry me.
“Why aren’t you inside?”
She shoots me a knowing smile. “Same reason you’re not. I’m waiting for Mae.”
“Who says I’m waiting for Mae?”
A laugh escapes her. “Then tell me who you are waiting for, brother.”
I pause. “I want to make sure everyone’s here. It’ll reflect badly on the team if people are late.” I’m lying through my teeth, and all it takes is one look to know my sister isn’t buying it.
“Riiiight.” She pats my back. “She’s interesting, isn’t she? Did you know she has a tortoise? I went round the other day and met him. He’s actually really cute.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, I did know that.”
“Oh, so she’s sharing personal things with you?”
“Why are you saying it like that? We’re partners and have to spend a lot of time together, so naturally, I’m going to notice things.”
She smiles and nods toward Mae, who is rushing toward the restaurant entrance wearing a baby pink sundress that bounces as she strides over to us. I can tell by the sheen on her legs that she’s got natural-looking tights underneath. “That’s not what you said when you were first paired with her,” Poppy mutters quietly before widening her arms. “Hey, Mae!”
“Sorry I’m late.” She’s clearly flustered. “I was being held captive in my mother’s hotel room.”
“What?” Protectiveness swarms me as I take her words literally, causing Mae to shake her head and chuckle.
“No, like, she wouldn’t stop talking about our next performance.”
“Ugh! Enough about working!” Poppy says loudly, slinging her arm over Mae’s shoulder. “Even if you were incredible.” She shoots her a wink. “I, for one, can’t wait to eat. Scallops. Truffle calamari. Lobster stuffed potato skins. The menu for tonight looks unbelievable!”
I pull the gleaming glass door of the restaurant open, but my feet freeze when Mae says, “I can’t actually have anything. I called them as soon as I knew about the dinner, and apparently, because I notified them too late, they can’t accommodate a nut allergy.”
“You are kidding?” I grunt, heels digging into the ground. I understand the meal was planned last minute, but restaurants need to be prepared for this kind of thing. Allergies are common. “Did you at least eat beforehand?”
She shakes her head. “I was going to order something at the hotel, but my conversation with my mom went on longer than expected, so I didn't have time. I’ll just have something later. It’s fine.”
I can practically hear her stomach growling, and I swear she looks paler than usual.
“So they expect you to sit at the table with nothing?” I gesture to the silver italic writing that reads Velvet Fine Dining.
It’s an upscale chain with only a handful of locations in the country, where the price of one single dish could cover an entire family’s weekly grocery bill. It’s not my scene—packed with pretentious snobs who convince themselves they’re content with the tiny portions just to look wealthy.
“Poppy, tell the founders I apologise, but I wasn't feeling well and had to head home.” I hike my thumb over my shoulder towards the rental car I got for the few days I’m here. My eyes find Mae. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
Her lips part. “Nathan, it’s fine. What about the dinner?”
I shrug. “Evan can speak for me. He’s prepared. You can’t wait until later to eat.”
“I’ll tell them,” Poppy says, placing her arm on her friend’s. “And they won’t even know you’re missing. In all honesty, they care about the guys more than the cheerleaders. Daisy and Madison aren’t coming, either, so I’ll tell the others you caught the same stomach flu as them.”
My sister waves us away quickly, trying to contain her grin, and I lead Mae to my car.
“Why are you wearing that?” I ask, sighing. She looks fucking incredible, but it’s not the weather for a sundress. She’s only got a thin cardigan layered with it, and I can tell by the goosebumps across her skin that she’s cold.
Mae’s face drops as she looks down at herself inside the vehicle. “What? I thought it was—”
My eyes round. “No, no. It’s beautiful, princess. You look beautiful.” The words fall from my lips a little too naturally. “I’m just worried about you freezing to death. It’s cold today.”
Relief seems to spread across her face. “Well, it’s the only thing I had that was semi-nice.”
Oh, that will have to change.
“Okay, wear this,” I instruct her as I reach behind my seat to grab a spare jacket. She takes it and slips it on without hesitation. “What do you want to eat?”
She hums. “I know we were just about to enter a snooty booty restaurant, but because they were so rude to me over the phone, is it bad if I want to go and eat at some gross burger joint just to say a massive fuck you to them?”
I laugh, winding down the road to the grossest fast-food place I know. “Say no more.”
The burger joint ticks all the boxes. It smells of overused grease, sweat and stale buns. The biggest smile stretches Mae’s glossy lips, and I have a sudden urge to kiss them.
Her perfume is sweet and fruity, and I breathe it in greedily as I admire her in my jacket. She looks good in my clothes. We order our food, and I pull the brim of my cap down—I always have one with me on hand—to hide my face so no one recognises me.
I wasn’t looking forward to eating the snooty booty food anyway.
Mae dips her fries into her pot of honey mustard, a sigh of contentment slipping past her lips. “This really hits the spot. How do places like this get their fries to taste so good?”
“Maybe they wipe their armpits with them.”
A laugh bubbles up her throat. “What’s with you and armpits? You got a fetish or something?”
I chuckle, shaking my head before taking a bite of my burger. “I can’t believe your mom, of all people, didn’t tell the restaurant you had an allergy when booking.”
“My mom? She told me Peter booked it.”
I cock my head. “Peter told us he left it up to Renee since she’s into fine dining.”
Betrayal flashes across Mae’s face, but it doesn’t last long. “Why am I not surprised? It’s just another way to spite me.”
“Even after your performance last night?” Dislike blooms in my chest. “She doesn’t appreciate you. It’s fucking wrong.”
Mae lifts her shoulders in a shrug. “It’s just her. There’s no changing it.” She looks at me. “Sorry you had to eat this instead of—”
“Mae, I don’t care. The food portions in that place wouldn’t feed a mouse. I would have ended up getting a burger afterwards, anyway.”
“Okay, good.” Her response is breathy, and it takes me right back to last night. We haven’t spoken about it, and I don’t know if we’re going to. But all I know is that I want to do it again.
I crave her underneath me. Desperate for me. Pussy throbbing as I swipe my finger over her clit. Her lips parting so I can slip my cock—
“Those women are checking you out.” Mae nods to the group of women a few booths away from us. They’re whispering to one another, giggling as they pretend to focus on their food. I doubt they’ve recognised me when they can only see a sliver of my face, but it’s apparent that they’ve had a bit to drink, eyes hazy and movements sloppy.
I turn my head away from them. “I don’t care.”
“One of them could be your future lover. You could miss your opportunity.” Mae’s teasing, but there’s a glint in her eyes that gets me—like she’s jealous. Envious. I love it.
“I haven’t had a girlfriend for seven years. I think I’ll survive.”
Her eyebrows fly up. “Seven years?”
I snatch up one of her fries, finished with mine. “Is that a surprise?”
“I mean… yeah. That's a long time without a woman. Unusual for someone who has the good looks and career.”
“So you think I’m good-looking?” I smirk, but she just rolls her eyes at me. “And I didn’t say it’s been seven years since I’ve been with a woman,” I clarify. “Just since I’ve had a girlfriend.”
If you could call her a girlfriend. It fizzled out pretty quickly. Partly because my father got in the way but mainly because she wasn’t fun. Snarky. Vivacious. Not like the woman sitting in front of me.
“Right.” Mae drops her gaze, and I realise how poorly my comment came across.
If I don’t want her thinking I’m some kind of manslut who used her last night, I need to be honest.
“It’s been three years.”
She peeks between long lashes.
“Three years since I’ve slept with anyone. Seven years since I’ve been in a relationship. Or something you could maybe call a relationship.” I’m not embarrassed about not having slept with anyone for so long. No shame comes with the admittance. It’s not like I haven't had the chance. Meaningless sex just doesn’t do anything for me anymore.
But the thought of doing it with Mae doesn’t seem so meaningless.
I grind my teeth together, attempting to pull my mind out of the gutter.
“That’s… I wasn’t expecting that.”
I send her a wink. “Like I told you in the beginning, princess, I don’t mess around with women.”
“Unless it’s me,” she laughs, but my face is set.
“You’re not just a woman.”
Mae releases an exhale, eyebrows flicking up at my comment. “Most men I meet are pigs. They can’t commit, and the ones that can have no ambition. No drive. There’s nothing more attractive to me than a hard worker.”
I like to think I’m one of the hardest workers in the NFL. I’m known as the guy who lives and breathes football, and even though it doesn’t always work out for my team, I never give up. Never throw in the towel.
Hearing that Mae likes hard workers makes my stomach flip.
I want to be something she wants, even though we can’t have each other.
“You’ve got a little—” I say as I reach forward and wipe the smear of mustard from the corner of her mouth.
The action comes naturally, and I don’t realise I’ve done it until my thumb is pressing against the soft skin of her pouty bottom lip.
She tenses but then immediately relaxes at my touch, smiling at me, her teeth slowly scraping across her bottom lip.
I pull away.
And then something occurs to me that I never thought would.
I’m really fucking jealous of a set of teeth.