Chapter 9 #2
We were seated in a corner booth, intimate and out of the way. Rylin was across from me, and I watched the way her fingers moved as her hand brushed the edge of her menu. The nervous flick of her gaze. The pretty pink stain on her cheeks.
“So.” I leaned in. “I have to admit, I’m a little rusty.”
“Rusty?”
“Yeah.” I grinned sheepishly. “It’s been a while.”
She tilted her head to the side, her brow furrowed in confusion. “A while since what?”
I chuckled. “It’s been a while since I went on a date.”
She laughed softly, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. I wasn’t sure what that was about. However, I didn’t want to dig into it and dampen the mood before the date had even started.
“It’s been a long time for me, too,” she admitted softly.
“We’ll muddle through together,” I teased, earning me a real smile.
Dinner was fantastic, but spending time with Rylin was the highlight of the night.
She was sexy as hell, and I couldn’t wait to fuck her again.
But it wasn’t just her passion in bed that attracted me.
She was obviously smart, funny, talented, and cared deeply about her family and friends.
The conversation flowed easily as we got to know each other a little more.
On the way home, I swiped her hand from where it had been resting on her thigh and kissed the back. “I have to say, there was a lot less pressure than I remember for a first date.”
“Oh?”
I grinned and tossed her a heated glance. “I already knew you were coming home with me.”
Rylin laughed, and the sound warmed my soul like it always did.
The rest of the week, we fell into a comfortable routine.
I dropped her off at work and picked her up, taking her straight back to my place.
Better to ask forgiveness than permission.
Rylin never protested, though, and fuck, having her in my arms when I fell asleep and woke up was a heaven I didn’t know existed before her.
Saturday rolled in heavy with sunlight and heat, another September day where breathing the humid air outside was like filling your lungs with bath water.
I wanted to spend as much time as I could with Rylin, so I was at The Tight Line.
Once Tammi realized I wasn’t leaving, she grinned evilly and put me to work.
With my sleeves pushed up and sweat rolling down my back, I hauled boxes into the storage closet, then worked on inventory.
Not that I accomplished a whole hell of a lot since I was easily distracted by my woman, stopping to stare at her every chance I got.
Each glance, smile, and time she brushed past me with a tray of food or leaned over the counter to laugh with a customer—I felt it like a pull in my gut.
Between refills and customer deliveries, I frequently stole her attention with small touches and seductive smiles.
She’d glare at me and tell me to behave, but there was no real conviction in her tone.
I was also trying every angle I could think of to talk her into coming to the game tomorrow.
It was our third regular-season game and our first one at home.
She wiped her hands on a towel and gave me a long look when I tried promising her the best seat in the house. “I get off work a half hour before kickoff. You want me to sprint there? Even if I could tap into the powers of The Flash, I’d be a sweaty mess.”
“Could be hot,” I murmured, stepping close enough that her body heat sank into mine. “All those clothes molded to your sexy-as-fuck curves.”
She smirked and shook her head. “You’re relentless.”
“I’m persuasive,” I corrected, letting my fingers slide along her waist as I leaned in. “Come on, baby. First home game of the season. I want you there.” A lopsided smile formed on my lips, and I winked. “If I can’t convince you with words, maybe my cock could do the convincing.”
“You already promised me an orgasm so good I’d see stars if I agreed,” she pointed out. Her tone was flat, but her mouth twitched like she was fighting a smile.
“Still on the table.” I brushed my lips along her jaw. “In fact, let’s put it on the table now. Or the wall. Or the prep counter.”
That got a soft laugh, and her breath hitched when I skimmed my hand along her lower back. She pushed at my chest, grinning, and slipped away just before I could reel her in again.
“Nope,” she called over her shoulder, her voice breathless. “I’m going back to work. Stop threatening me with a good time!”
I smiled devilishly. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
She tossed me an admonishing glare, but I was unrepentant. My stare was sizzling with heat, making her shiver.
Then she squared her shoulders and sighed. “I can’t afford to take the day off, Micah.”
Well, shit. I frowned. I loved her independence, but her stubborn refusal to let me help her in any way was starting to wear on me. Why couldn’t she understand that taking care of her was something I craved, something that made me happy?
“If you’d just let me pay—”
The door to the kitchen swung open, and Derek strolled in, carrying a tray of empty glasses. We waited until he was out of earshot before I opened my mouth to try again.
“Don’t start,” she grumbled, setting the knife down with a little more force than was necessary.
I decided to try another angle.
“I can talk to Tammi about getting you scheduled for the next holiday shift,” I offered.
The employees who worked certain holidays got double pay, so Tammi and I had put together a rotation schedule so that no one person could sign up for all of them and leave others without an opportunity to work them. It would be easy enough to simply swap her shift with someone else’s.
We fell silent again when Derek, now carrying filled glasses and a sandwich, strolled by. He shot us an unreadable look before backing through the door to return to the front of the deli.
Rylin crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at me. “That wouldn’t be fair, and you know it.”
I sighed. “I didn’t mean taking away someone else’s shift, baby. Just pushing you up in the rotation.”
She shook her head adamantly. “No.”
“Fine, I’ll stick to my powers of persuasion,” I murmured as I moved closer and glided my lips along her jaw again.
“Um…” Her breath hitched when I took a little bite, then soothed the sting with my tongue. A second later, she was out of my reach and hightailed it from the kitchen with the pie, making me laugh heartily.
It wasn’t until later in the afternoon, close to when I had to head out to practice, that I cornered her again—literally—by the back hallway near the storage closet. The kitchen was busy, customers eating and laughing out front, but she had a few minutes for me to make one last pitch.
I nudged the door open and pulled her inside, closing it behind us. She turned toward me, already smiling, but that expression died on her lips the second I stepped in and pressed her back against the wall.
I kissed her hard. My mouth was rough, tongue demanding. I pressed my hard-on against her pussy, and my hands gripped her hips with just enough pressure to make her gasp. She clutched at my shirt, dragging me closer, letting me devour her like I hadn’t already had her twice this morning.
“Still don’t wanna come to the game?” I murmured, dragging my lips down her neck, biting lightly in that spot, just above her collarbone, that drove her wild.
She let out a breathy little moan. “I said I couldn’t, not that I didn’t want to.”
Finally accepting that I wasn’t going to win this time, I leaned back and looked down at her, not bothering to hide my frustration.
“How about a compromise?” she suggested.
I raised an eyebrow and waited.
She shifted, wrapping her arms loosely around my waist like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to pull me in or push me away. “I’ll watch it at home. I get off at six thirty, and I’ll be on the couch with snacks for the kickoff, glued to the television until the last minute.”
I narrowed my eyes, tilting my head. “Home, huh?”
Nodding vigorously, she crossed her heart with a teasing smile. “Yep. That’s the deal.”
After thinking it over, I leaned in again, slow and deliberate, until our mouths were barely a breath apart. “New deal. You watch it at my place so you’re waiting for me when I get home.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off with another kiss.
Deeper this time. Possessive. My hand slid around to cup the back of her neck, thumb brushing her jaw.
Her body was practically vibrating, and when her knees buckled, her fingers curled in my shirt, and I yanked her body into mine to steady her.
When I finally pulled away, her pupils were wide and her lips swollen.
“Deal?” I whispered.
She blinked, then nodded slowly. “Deal.”
Smiling, I dropped one last kiss to her mouth, but just as I stepped back, she crossed her arms with a pout and muttered, “You know, you’re not always going to get your way just because you’re ridiculously good at kissing.”
“Wanna bet?” I asked, winking as I smacked her ass and opened the closet door.
She shuffled out, cheeks pink, expression caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. In the kitchen, I tugged her close once more, brushed my lips over her temple, and told her I’d be back to pick her up when her shift ended. Then I left, already counting the hours.
Sunday came fast, and with it, game day.
Knowing she was watching flipped some kind of switch in me.
I played harder. Hit meaner. Moved sharper.
Every time I lined up across from a tight end or crashed through the O-line like a battering ram, I thought about her curled up on my couch, wearing one of my shirts, maybe eating the popcorn I’d left for her.
Twenty-one tackles. Fuck yeah! Not bad for a guy running on little sleep and a head full of sex-fueled adrenaline.
Afterward, I ignored the press and rushed into the locker room, showered as fast as possible, threw on fresh clothes, and texted her.
Me
On my way, baby.
Then I booked it across the city.
Rylin was walking into the living room from the kitchen when I opened the door, and she looked up at me with a bright, proud smile.
Without a word, I wrapped her in my arms, lifted her clean off the floor, and carried her to the bedroom.
Her laughter was warm against my neck as her legs wrapped around my waist, and the second I laid her down, everything else disappeared.
The roar of the crowd, sweat, hits, and bruises—they were nothing compared to the sight of her waiting for me.
And as I kissed my way down her body, every inch of her bare skin filling my senses, I thought, This. Every damn day. For the rest of my life.
The next week passed in a blur of sweet routines and heated glances.
Whenever I wasn’t on the field or buried in tape, I was usually at The Tight Line, finding excuses to help out or just keep her company.
Whenever I could, I picked her up from work and took her home with me.
I didn’t give her any other option, but she never argued and had even packed a bigger bag the day after the game so she had more stuff at my place.
I had plans to slowly bring her shit to my apartment so she was moved in before she even realized it.
Our nights together were my favorite part of the day. Sometimes, it was just cuddling on the couch, talking, or watching a movie. Other nights, we barely made it through the front door before I had her pressed against a wall, gasping my name.
She hadn’t called this a relationship or asked what we were, but she didn’t have to. I could feel it in the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t watching. How she relaxed when I held her. In the way she fell asleep in my bed like she belonged there.
Meanwhile, I was making plans behind the scenes.
Quiet ones. Plans that could help her sister—but I didn’t want to bring it up until I had something solid.
If I gave her hope, and it blew up in my face, she’d be crushed.
So I kept working it in the background, keeping my cards close until the time was right.
Then the weekend rolled around, and it was time for another away game. I hated leaving her, but I’d convinced her to stay at what I’d already begun to think of as our home while I was gone. Knowing she was keeping our bed warm gave me some comfort.
On the flight out, I had my headphones in, running over plays on my tablet, when Gage dropped onto the seat beside me.
He nudged my arm. “What’s this I’m hearing about you being off the market?”
Across the aisle, Huck let out a snort loud enough to draw a few looks. “I think you mean pussy-whipped.”
Raiden walked by at that exact moment and smacked Huck on the back of the head without slowing down. “Watch it, jackass.”
Huck shrugged, unbothered. “What? It’s true.”
Raiden didn’t argue. Just dropped into the seat across from me with that same lazy grin he always wore right before a fourth-down conversion.
“Jealous?” he asked Huck, one brow cocked.
The center rolled his eyes. “Not a chance.”
Gage looked between Huck and Raiden, then dismissed them and turned to me again. “So?”
I grinned, the answer easy.
“Definitely found my Mrs. Right.”