Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
MADDY
“AFC CHAMPIONSHIP BABY!” Tyler bellows, running to the sidelines and stopping just short of crashing into me. He wraps his arms around my knees and picks me up, spinning me in a circle, my hands flying down to clamp onto his shoulders so I don’t go careening backwards and breaking my head.
We’re playing in Denver, but the crowd roars so loud you would think we’re at home. Pittsburgh fans travel well. The stadium practically shakes as the field fills with players, coaches, staff, and media, a wild celebration under the dark night sky.
“Put me down,” I yell, banging on his back. “Go attack one of your teammates.”
“You are my teammate,” Tyler says with a dazzling grin, dropping me to my feet and kissing my nose. “We never could have done this without you.”
“He’s right,” Drew says, swinging an arm around my shoulders. “You might not have on a uniform, but you might as well have been on that field. I had Play your own game together running through my head like a damn mantra during that last quarter.”
I laugh, thinking of the thing I say to the guys all the time as warmth floods my chest. I’m not a coach and I’m not a player, but I had a hand in this—in helping these guys get to this moment one game away from the Super Bowl—and I’m damn proud of it.
“You should have a uniform.” Cam comes up on my other side and drops his arm around my shoulders too, reaching over and slapping Drew on the back. Then he looks down and winks at me. “Or at least a jersey.”
“Damn, I should have thought of that,” Tyler says, his face then lighting up. “I’ll give you one of mine to wear for the AFC Championship next week! Not, like, the replica jersey you probably already have, but my real, actual jersey.”
Despite the noise of the stadium, I hear Cam growl, “I already gave her a fucking jersey” under his breath, and I grin up at him, bumping his hip with mine because possessive Cam is one of my favorite Cams. “Thanks, Ty Ty, I’ll take it.”
Cam casually drops his hand from my shoulders to my waist, squeezing once before letting go and dropping his head. “Watch it, Wildcat,” he says in a low, raspy voice that has a shiver running down my spine. “Bratty girls get punished.”
“Can’t wait,” I say quietly, sliding a little closer to Cam and grazing my fingers over the side of his thigh, smiling at the noise that rumbles from his chest as I look between the three guys. “So, what’s the plan? Celebration, right?”
“Fuck yeah, we’re celebrating!” Tyler bounces on his toes as if the adrenaline of the win is too much for his body to contain. “I know a club!”
“No,” Drew and Cam say at the same time. “We have a six a.m. flight and a championship game to win next week and everything hurts,” Drew says. “We’re not fucking clubbing.”
“I thought maybe dinner. And dessert,” Cam mutters. I think maybe that last thing was only meant for me, but I know Drew heard it too because he chokes out a laugh, ramming Cam in the ribs with his elbow.
Tyler just rolls his eyes. “I forgot I’m friends with the olds. I wish Soph made the trip. She would have gone out with me,” he grumbles.
“Well, she didn’t, so you’re stuck with us,” Drew says, slapping him on the back. “Steak?”
“Later,” Coach Campbell says as he approaches. “Hansley, Ellicott, get your asses to the locker room. Media in five.” Then his face breaks out into a rare smile. “That touchdown at the end of the fourth was a thing of fucking beauty. Good fucking work.”
“Thanks, Coach.” Tyler beams.
Coach Campbell’s face turns back to its habitual scowl and he points to Tyler. “I better not see pictures of you at a club tonight. We have an early flight tomorrow and a championship game to win in a week.”
Tyler rolls his eyes again. “Don’t worry, Coach. My best friends are basically grandpas. We’re going to have the most boring dinner ever and then go to sleep.”
“Good,” he says with a nod. “That’s what I like to hear. Locker room. Now,” he orders, before turning and walking over to a group of defensive linemen who look like they’re filming some sort of complicated dance routine for someone’s phone over by the sideline benches.
Athletes are the fucking best.
“Meet us outside the locker room, Mads!” Tyler calls as he walks away, Drew’s arm slung over his shoulder, leaving me standing with Cam. Drew turns his head and gives us a salacious wink. I laugh and shake my head, turning back to Cam.
“You gonna sneak into my room after dinner tonight, Wildcat?” Cam asks. With his sweaty, disheveled hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a boyish sort of grin stretched over his face, he looks so fucking cute I want to scream.
I run my tongue over my lower lip and watch with a little thrill as Cam’s eyes follow the movement. “I don’t know, Cameron, what’s in it for me?”
His eyes travel down over my body and back up again, and I feel his gaze like a caress.
“I’m going to strip you down and bend you over my bed.
Suck on your clit and spank your perfect ass red for even considering wearing another man’s jersey.
Then I’m going to lie down on the bed and make you straddle my lap and ride my cock until you come so many times you’ll be begging me to let you stop.
” He winks at me, giving me a devious grin. “But I won’t.”
“Sold,” I manage, my entire body heating like it’s the middle of the summer and not a ten-degree night in Denver. “But is dinner, like, strictly necessary?”
He laughs, swinging an arm around my shoulders and walking me towards the tunnel off the field. “Patience, baby. It’ll be worth it.”