Chapter 2
Nolan – a quarterback dangerously close to making bad decisions
Nolan
I stare after Terri with my mouth gaping open. She shot me down faster than I can throw a football, and considering I’m one of the NFL’s best quarterbacks, I can throw a football pretty fucking fast.
“You owe me twenty bucks!” Tanner shouts from across the bar.
I glare at him. He’s one of the fastest wide receivers in the NFL. And my teammate on the Steel City Seals. If he weren’t, I’d probably throw him in the ocean for being an ass.
I make my way back to our table, where he’s sitting with our teammates Gage, Brock, and Corbin.
Tanner holds out his hand and I slap it.
“I don’t owe you shit.”
He grins. “I bet you twenty bucks she’d say no.”
“I didn’t bet with you.” I never bet with Tanner. He’s a goofball who makes up his own rules and is in trouble more often than not. In other words, there’s no way to win a bet with him.
“Good call,” Brock grumbles.
I’m not offended by his grumbling. Brock is always grumpy. He’s also a fullback on the Seals and has taken more hits for me than anyone else on the team.
“Did she not know who you are?” Gage asks.
Gage is a running back on the team. He’s also handsome and charming. He’s used to women falling at his feet when he says his name.
Corbin sighs. The tight end doesn’t speak much. He’s quiet and reserved. I’m surprised he’s at the bar with us tonight. He’s not staying at the Hideaway Haven Resort with the rest of the team during training camp.
Although, training camp is still a few weeks away. We came early to hang out and have fun. But not too much fun. Speaking of which…
“I’ve drafted a workout schedule,” I say. “I emailed everyone a copy.”
Tanner scowls. “What the hell, Nolan? It’s off-season. Being the quarterback doesn’t give you the right to control our lives off the field.”
“Training camp is mere weeks away. Do you want to miss weight on day one? Coach Knox will not be impressed.”
He waves away my concern. “Coach Cha-Cha loves me.”
Gage snorts. “He especially loves it when you call him Coach Cha-Cha.”
Tanner grins. “It’s not my fault he decided he could cha-cha and ended up with a concussion.”
Brock growls. “Concussions are no joke.”
Tanner rolls his eyes. “I know, Mr. Grumpy.”
“My name isn’t Mr. Grumpy.”
“Enough,” I order.
Tanner glares at me. “You are not in charge of my life.”
“Someone needs to be.”
Corbin stands. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you tomorrow in the gym at nine.”
At least someone read my workout schedule. “I’ll walk you out.”
It’s a good excuse to search for Terri. She couldn’t have gone far. She works at the resort after all.
The way she looked at me – her eyes wide and her breath caught in her throat – she was definitely interested. But she turned me down cold. Why? Did I offend her? Upset her? I need to know.
I scan the surroundings as we walk toward the main resort building. I catch a glimpse of chestnut hair and change directions.
“Terri!” I holler as I hurry in her direction.
She glances behind her and her eyes widen when she notices me. She increases her speed and I lengthen my stride. I’m four inches over six feet, and she’s probably a foot shorter than me. I easily catch up to her.
She smiles at me. I don’t know her well – or at all really – but I can tell it’s fake. “How can I help you, Mr. Allen?”
Mr. Allen? She knows my name. “You know who I am.”
She starts to roll her eyes but stops and clears her throat. “Of course. You’re a valuable guest at Hideaway Haven Resort.”
“And you work at the resort as a bartender.” I nod to the tray of drinks she’s carrying.
She blinks down at the tray. “I’m the events coordinator. But I help out where I can.”
“How nice of you.”
She shrugs and the tray of drinks wobbles.
“Careful.”
“Careful? Why? Is Ava sneaking up on me again?” She glances behind her – oblivious to the tray in her hands – and the tray wobbles again. I try to catch it, but before I can, it tips over, and the glasses crash into Terri’s chest.
“What the mermaid!” She drops the tray, and the glasses shatter on the floor.
She stares down at the mess for a moment before hurrying into action. “Stay here. I’ll get a broom.”
She scurries away and I follow her. She opens a closet and grabs a broom. When she turns around, she bumps into me. I steady her with a hand on her shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
I nudge her backwards into the closet. I switch on the light and shut the door behind me.
“I’m not going to assault you.” I raise my hands in the air and back up as far away from her as possible in a tiny closet. “But I thought you should know your top is soaked and it’s see-through.”
She gasps. “See-through?” She glances down at her blouse and cringes.
“Flying pirates. I never should have worn this to work. It’s not work appropriate, but I thought…”
I don’t know what she thought because my brain can no longer follow her words since she’s unbuttoning her top. My mouth waters to touch her skin. Is it as smooth as it appears? My cock twitches. It wants to more than touch. It wants to sink into her.
I whirl around to face the door.
“What are you doing? Don’t just stand there. Help me.”
“How am I supposed to help you?”
“This is a supply closet. There must be towels somewhere.”
Of course. I should have thought of the towels myself. But there wasn’t enough blood flow to my brain for thoughts of towels.
I search the shelves. I don’t find any towels. But I do find some napkins. They’ll have to do.
I face Terri and freeze. She’s now standing in her bra – her white, lacy bra that does nothing to hide her nipples.
“Um… you’re…” I motion toward her chest.
“Oh, please. You’ve probably seen more women’s chests than a gynecologist.”
I bristle. “I’m not Tanner Long. I’m not a player.”
“Whatever. Are you going to help or what?”
I hold up the napkins. “I have these. Do you want me to…?”
I blot her shoulders with the napkins to dry her. She giggles. “I didn’t spill any beer there.”
I hand her the napkins. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m coming onto you. You said no.”
She begins to blot her chest with the napkins. “And yet you followed me and shoved me into a closet.”
“I didn’t…” I trail off when she bursts into laughter.
She points to my face. “You should see yourself.”
I groan. “Fantastic. I’m getting roasted by a woman who’s holding cocktail napkins against her boobs.”
She wiggles her eyebrows. “To be fair, you did trap me in a closet.”
“I was trying to help. Clearly, I should leave helping to professionals.”
“You’re leaving?”
I pause. The question slipped out too quickly. Did she not mean to speak aloud?
My gaze catches hers. There it is again. The spark from the beach bar. Does she want me as much as I want her?
This is dangerous territory. I retreat a step when all I want to do is rush forward.
“You already turned me down once tonight,” I say quietly. “I’m not going to push.”
For the first time since I followed her across the resort, she doesn’t sass back at me. The silence stretches between us in the cramped closet.
Her eyes drift to my mouth. Mine drop to the tiny strip of skin visible above her bra.
“I should go clean up the glass,” she says softly, but she doesn’t move.
“Probably,” I agree, but I don’t move either.
She laughs. She sounds nervous. “This is ridiculous.”
“A little.”
“You’re standing in a supply closet staring at me in my bra.”
“I’m trying very hard not to.”
“Sounds difficult.”
“You have no idea.”
Her glance drops to below my belt where my cock – hard and heavy – is pressing against my zipper. It’s impossible to miss.
She steps closer and touches my shirt. “Maybe I changed my mind.”
With her gaze focused on my mouth, she pushes up on her toes. I meet her halfway. My mouth crashes against hers. She sighs and I thrust my tongue inside. She tastes of beer and strawberries and something sparkly.
I groan before lifting her up and pressing her against the door.
The moment her arms slide around my neck, something inside me snaps.
Suddenly, nothing matters except the feel of her beneath my hands, the soft gasp against my mouth, and the way she clings to me. She wants this as desperately as I do.