31. 31 Nathan
31: Nathan
“ S top pouting. You don’t have the lips for it,” Poppy says as she waltzes up to me inside The Salty Dog. She texted me and demanded I meet her here, and I didn’t dare refuse—after making sure Mae wasn’t working. If there’s one thing I know about my sister, she doesn’t take no for an answer.
I sip on my water. I’m well aware I’m dead behind the eyes.
“You played like shit yesterday,” my sister tells me. “Something on your mind?”
“I don’t need someone else on my back,” I say, pulling the brim of my red cap down.
Poppy’s lips curl in disgust. “Don’t even think about comparing me to our pig of a father. Unlike him, I don’t give a fuck how you play, Nathan. As long as you’re happy.” She sighs. “And you’re not happy.”
“That psychology degree is serving you well.”
“For once in my life, I’m not in the mood for jokes.” Poppy’s tone is serious, and she stares at me in desperation. “Please. Talk to me.”
“You want me to talk to you about Mae?” My hands curl around my frosted glass of water. The sharp, stinging sensation feels good.
“She thinks she’s saving you from swirling down the drain.”
I cock my head.
“God, am I talking to a caveman? Mae wants to be with you. She doesn’t want it to be the end for you two, but you let football get in the way.” Poppy shakes her head. “Nathan, I know you want to win the Super Bowl for your mom, but I’m here telling you that your mother would prefer you to be happy than lift some stupid silver trophy in her name.”
At the mention of my mother, my lungs tighten. “Her death can’t be for—”
“Nothing… I know.” Poppy releases a long breath. “I understand your logic. I do. But you’re throwing your life away for someone who’s no longer around. I know you think you’re nothing if you don’t have football, but that’s not true. You’re more than a football player, Nathan.” Her eyes fill with tears. “You’re my brother.”
Fuck. Seeing my sister cry breaks my fucking heart.
I step forward off my stool and wrap my arms around her. “But the photos. Mae’s career.”
Poppy pulls away from my chest. “If you two love each other as much as I think you do, it’s something you’ll be able to work through. Look me in the eyes and tell me you love her. Forget about being cringy and mushy for a second. I’m a girl. I love that shit. Just do it.”
I stare at her, eyes so starkly different to mine. “I’ve never met anyone like her, Poppy. Of course I love Mae. More than anything.”
“Anything?” She quirks a brow.
“Anything,” I clarify.
“Okay, good. Think about that last part for me, okay? Because that’s all I wanted to hear.” She takes a casual, loud sip of my water, blinking back her tears from seconds ago. “Be selfish for once. Please. No offence, but you’re in your thirties, Nathan.” A small smile marks her face. “Are you going to look back at this moment and be thankful you let Mae go? Be proud that you chose football over your happiness?”
I gulp. “No.” It’s a simple answer. I don’t even need to think about it.
“I’ve been in contact with a certain someone who works for a talent agency, too. I have a feeling she can help soften the blow if you two decide to let the photos go public.”
I shake my head at my sister. “Pops, what have you been up to?”
She grins. “Saving your ass. What are annoying little sisters for?”
I inhale deeply as I pull her back to my chest.
I love and hate how fucking right she is.
I’ve spent so long stuck on the fact that I need to do this for my mother. I kept pushing forward, hoping that if I won, everything would make sense. Everything would be worth it.
But now, even though I always knew it deep down, I see it for what it is—a dead weight pulling me down and stopping me from being who I want to be. Who I need to be.
My mom wouldn’t want this for me. She wouldn’t want me wasting my life trying to be something I’m not. I’m sure she would have loved to have watched me lift that trophy. Who wouldn't want that for their son? But she’s not here anymore, and I can’t let my life wither away trying to do something I know won’t make me feel better in the long run.
Because winning the Super Bowl won’t bring my mom back.
A strange sense of relief spreads through me. It feels like I can finally breathe.
I don’t know if Mae will be on the same page as me, but if I allow her to leave for Florida without telling her how I feel, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
There was a time when I thought cone drills were the death of me. Little did I know, they weren’t. Not even close.
Mae Bexley is.
And there’s nothing about it that upsets me.
I’m staring out at the wave of reporters before me in the Missarali stadium conference room as they flash their cameras and bombard us with questions. The playoffs are starting, and the only reason I’m here is because my team need me.
As of this second, football is all I have.
Only… football can’t love me back. It can’t make me laugh. It can’t comfort me when I need it. It doesn’t talk back to me and test my patience in the most enjoyable way.
Mae’s the only thing that can do that for me.
“Nathan! Word on the street is that you’re dating supermodel Emily Miller. Is that true? Rumours suggest you were spotted together last week.”
Fuck, I’m too old for this shit.
I know my annoyance is evident on my face. I don’t believe I’ve ever met Emily Miller, and even if I had, I have no interest in her because she’s not Mae.
I glare at the reporter.
I can’t wait any longer.
The question makes me push my chair backwards, and I turn to Darrell with gritted teeth. “There’s something I have to do.”
My coach asks no questions as he nods and waves me away, and I leave the reporters gasping and calling after me as I leave.
I waste no time getting into my car and driving straight to Mae’s house. Renee isn’t in. She meditates at the stadium early.
If I’m lucky, I’ll catch Mae before she leaves for the stadium.
I kill the engine of my Audi. A light on in Mae’s house indicates someone’s home, and I knock impatiently.
She flings the door open, dressed in sweats and clutching her cheerleading duffel bag. Her body visibly stiffens. “Nathan?”
Fuck, she looks just as beautiful as she did the first time I laid eyes on her.
She looks like… mine.
“Hey, princess.” The nickname sounds so right on my tongue.
“What are you doing here?”
“Making sure I don’t lose the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
Mae’s eyebrows furrow as she steps aside, and I enter the house. “Shouldn’t you be at your conference right now?”
I shake my head. “Not important.”
“Then what is important?”
I shut the door behind me. “I’m looking at it.”
Mae drops her bag and hums, sighing. She looks at me with soft eyes, dragging her lip into her mouth, her teeth scraping against the plush flesh. She takes a deep breath. “Sophia.”
“What?”
A laugh of disbelief bubbles up her throat. “Sophia. It was her who was following us around, taking those photos. I saw a text from your dad on her phone. He paid her to do it.”
Resentment surges through me.
And here I thought Sophia was one of the decent ones. But it doesn’t matter right now. I can deal with that later. “They’re not winning. They don’t get to make this decision for us.”
“Nathan,” Mae sighs, “the Storks. They need you. You need them. I’m not letting you get kicked off the team for—”
“You’re not letting me do anything, Mae. I’m making this decision. It’s on me, and I don’t give a flying fuck if they kick me off the team for it. If it means calling you mine, I’ll give up football without blinking.”
Mae’s eyes are wide, her mouth popped open. She raises her eyebrows, a small gasp of exasperation leaving her.
“I know fame might not be something you want, and I’ll do anything to make sure you don’t have that. Fuck, we can leave Montana and live on some shitty remote island somewhere if it’ll make you happy. I’m not losing you. You belong with me.”
“But… you love football. I know you claim not to, but deep down, you do.”
I cock my head. “Maybe, but not nearly as much as I love you.” I cup her cheeks. “You want to go to Florida? Fine, go. But I’ll be right there by your side to support you.” I pause. “If you’ll have me there.” A hint of insecurity seeps into my voice.
She’s stunned for a few seconds, but she quickly recovers. I watch her expression shift from shocked to something softer. Something warmer. Something… only for me.
Looking at her like this. I know I’m doing the right thing. This is fucking right. We’re right.
“Does it make things harder that I love you too?”
I chuckle.
“Do I want fame? No, not really, but it wasn’t the fame aspect that made me cut things off with you, Nathan. It was the idea of you losing everything you’ve worked so hard for.”
I shake my head. “The Missarali Storks are a successful team. None of it was for nothing. But playing for them… it’s not for me anymore. You are.”
Mae releases a small laugh, but it looks uncertain. “You’d actually move to Florida?”
“Princess, I’d move to Mars if you were there.”
She leans against the kitchen counter, and I hook my finger under her chin. She allows her hand to trickle down the side of my face, fingers grating against my stubble.
But her eyebrows are still pinched together as her gaze drifts over my shoulder, jaw working as she thinks.
“It seems I haven't made myself clear, so I'll reiterate it for you. There’s no guilt on your part. You didn’t make me do this. I did this. I lost the passion for football a long time ago, at least the competitive side of it, and even though I always told myself I needed to win the Super Bowl to make me feel better about my mother’s death, in reality, I know I’d feel just as empty as I did when we weren’t champions. All my mother ever wanted for me was happiness. She’d want me to do this. She’d want me to make this decision for myself.”
I’m sure my mom has been screaming at me from the sky to quit football for years, but I never listened to her. I allowed my father to get inside my head and control me. I’m not letting that happen anymore, though. I’m not a puppet.
“You’re so much more than Nathan Slater, the famous football player, by the way,” Mae tells me. “I want you to know that. You’re sensitive. Sweet. You’re a good cook. You love your team, and you’d protect Poppy with your life. Radish loves you. And so do I. You have so many more layers to you than just football. I want you to know I see them.”
“I need you by my side, Mae Bexley.”
She dips her chin in a nod, arms wrapping around my neck. “I will be.” Then, a smile appears. “I told Flo I’d never want a photo of you on my bedroom wall.”
Confusion makes my eyes narrow.
“And that’s still true,” she continues, “because I want the real thing. A photo won’t cut it.”
“Is that so?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You want to wake up to my face every morning?” I press my lips to her neck, circling my hands around her waist and pressing her against me.
“Maybe on your face.”
An involuntary groan escapes me as I drop my forehead to hers. “Trust you to say something like that.”
This woman knows just how to rile me up. I love it.
She smiles at me, cheeks pinched and lips stretched, but her eyes shift when she feels my boner sticking into her stomach. “Nathan,” she sighs, eyes clouding with need, dropping her hand, running it over my length.
“Fuck, Mae.”
Her fingers then find the zipper to my jeans, and when I hear the zipping noise of her undoing them, I hoist her up in my arms so she’s straddling my waist.
“Bedroom. Now.”
She points me in the right direction, and I drop her down on the sheets and shuck my jeans down to my hips so my cock springs free. My shirt is next, and I waste no time pulling her sweats off, leaving her bare for me.
“No underwear?” I ask. “My dirty girl.”
Her skin is creamy, and I pepper kisses down it until I’m at her core. She arches into my face, and I chuckle.
“Someone’s impatient.”
I swear I hear her growl. “I need it, Nathan, please.”
“What’s my name, sweetheart?”
Mae groans, flopping her head back onto the pillow with a thump, but I can see the corner of her lip curling.
“You know you want to say it.”
“Nathan… Slater,” she mutters, hands in my hair. “Please eat my pussy.”
I lap at her clit. “Good girl.”
I tease her, on my knees as I pump two fingers into her already wet pussy. She moans, loud and entrancing, and it causes me to curse and tilt my head back to the sky.
She just knows how to make me tick.
I pull out of her, leaving her huffing in frustration before flipping us over so she straddles my waist. “Sit on my face, Mae.”
“What?”
I raise an eyebrow, leaving no room for arguments. “You think you can make that sit-on-your-face comment and have me overlook it? Sit on my face. Now.”
She shuffles forward until she hovers above my neck, and I arch an eyebrow at her.
“Are you sure?”
“Does my cock look as if I’m not sure, princess?”
She angles her head back to see me slowly stroking my hard dick, and a soft moan leaves her as she moves onto my face. Her legs shake, and I grip her ass.
I arch my head and lap at her, and her head kicks back.
I fuck her with my tongue, allowing it to swirl up over her clit every few pumps, and within seconds, Mae’s shuddering for me, rolling her hips forward to add more friction.
“Fuck… it feels so fucking good.”
“Hold onto the headboard, baby,” I tell her, and she immediately leans forward and clutches onto the wood, making it easier for her to grind against my face.
The sight is hypnotic. The way she whimpers for me, muscles flexing and un-flexing.
“Fuck, Nathan, I’m so fucking close. Oh, shit.”
“Is my girl going to come all over my face for me?”
Mae bobs her head up and down in a nod before one of her hands clutches my shoulder in a stiff grip. She comes for me, a symphony of moans falling from her lips—so unbelievable that I could come just from the sight.
With eyes hazy, she looks down at me. Her chest rises with heavy breaths. “That was amazing.”
I smile because I’m not finished with her—not even close.
I scoot out from under her and grip her round ass, palming it before dipping my fingers into her pussy again. I then press my cock against her entrance. She’s on all fours for me, and the view is captivating.
“Fuck, Nathan, I need your cock.”
I pause at her entrance. “Tell me again.”
“I need your cock. I need you to fuck me. Please.” Her voice is desperate, and she attempts to push back onto me, making me chuckle.
I give her what she wants, pounding into her so hard that the sound of skin hitting skin fills the entire house. Her pussy wraps around me, squeezing tight. “Is this what you want every morning, Mae? Because this is what you’re going to get. There’s no way in hell that I’m letting you go. This pussy is mine. Only mine, got it?”
Mae’s face is buried in the pillow as she attempts to muffle her loud screams of pleasure, but I hear her agree.
I thrust harder, making sure my jeans that sit right under my hips aren’t grating against her skin. “Let me hear it louder. Tell me you want this, Mae. Tell me you want me .”
I need to hear it. I need to know this is what she wants for life because I’m willing to give up absolutely everything for this girl. I won’t look back with regret because she’ll be worth it, but I need to hear the words from her lips.
I stop my movement. “I’m waiting, Mae. Tell me you want this. Tell me you want to be mine. All I need to hear is the word.”
She reaches back and clutches onto my hand that’s gripping her ass cheek. “I want it, Nathan. I want you. All of you. Forever.”
“You sure?” I tilt my head, and her pussy squeezes my cock.
“Nathan, God, I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.” She turns her head to look me in the eyes. “Please. I want you. I want us .”
It’s all I need to hear. I slam into her, sucking on my finger to make sure it’s wet before I circle her clit.
She chants my name over and over as her legs quiver and her pussy tightens around my cock. It makes it almost impossible to pull out, but I roll us over and grip both of her wrists with my palm, pressing them above her head into the mattress. “Keep them up there.” I shuck my jeans down the tiniest bit to give me more flexibility.
Her tits bounce with every thrust, nipples so hard they could be mistaken for diamonds.
Because they’re fucking priceless.
Absolutely incredible.
I withdraw and plunge into her again, the bed sheets wet beneath us from how much she’s dripping for me. She hums in satisfaction, and I grip her wrists again as she attempts to move them, making her laugh.
“Are you laughing at me, Mae?” I ask.
She shakes her head, biting down on her plump bottom lip. “No, not at all.”
“Better not be,” I wink at her from above, releasing her wrists, allowing her hands to roam my body.
Her touch feels like fire. Pure, burning, pulsating fire. But the flames are addictive. I’ll never get tired of calling this woman mine.
Grabbing the pillow from behind Mae’s head, I slide it underneath her ass, which raises her hips. She glances at me with confusion at first, but as I slide back in and hit her sweet spot, all the perplexity disappears from her face.
“Does that feel good, princess? You like being fucked like this?”
“Yes, oh my God, yes.”
I press my lips to hers in a steaming kiss, nipping at the skin as I drive my cock into her tight heat.
Her lips part, and her toes curl as I bring her to another orgasm. Watching her come undone for me is something I’ll never tire of.
“Mae, I’m going to—” I don’t finish my sentence, kissing her softly as I spill inside of her, her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer.
I clean her up as she catches her breath, pulling my jeans that are around my quads back up.
I stare at her, completely in awe.
She’s such a fucking angel. I can’t wait to be able to tell everyone she's mine. My father. Her mother. The team. The media.
There’s nothing they can do to keep us apart.
“I missed you, Nathan,” she says, rolling over on the bed and taking my hand. Her frizzy hair makes me chuckle.
“I missed you too, Mae.”
She pauses, lips pursing. “Would now be a bad time to tell you my brother knows about us?” A small laugh falls from her.
I shrug, joining her. “Would now be a bad time to tell you I already know that because he threatened to give me a black eye?”