August 25th #3
And a whole lot of girls running around in matching shirts. It’s fun to see their outfits though. How they personalize them with skirts and fun shoes and jewelry.
“It’s day two,” Dani says. “Did you go through rush?”
“Notre Dame doesn’t have sororities, so no. And I wasn’t really interested when I switched schools.”
“It’s funny. My mom and Auntie Jay met because they were sorority sisters. I was bound and determined not to follow in their footsteps. Tried so hard not to like their sorority. But in the end, it was my first choice.”
“I loved the serenading that was done during your wedding weekend.”
“Yeah, it was special. But at the same time, I’m glad I’m walking around campus with you right now instead of doing all the rush planning and stuff. Amber and Lauren have been working nonstop. In fact, I was shocked they were able to come hang out last night.”
She shows me her old sorority house and Eddie’s frat house. When we head back toward the stadium, she glances at her watch again.
“I really appreciate you showing me that video. I feel like I can picture exactly where Damon is.”
She sends a quick text, grabs my elbow, and practically skips down the sidewalk, then comes to stand in front of a building.
She giggles. “While the girls are rushing, the boys are rushing in a different way.”
“Like rushing for yards?” I wonder aloud.
“Yep,” she says as Chase comes out the door, quickly giving her a hug and a kiss.
A few moments later, Damon strides out—and holy shit. I’ve seen him sweaty after workouts, dressed in tuxedo perfection at the wedding, even naked.
He’s always sinfully good-looking.
But right now? He’s in full-on athlete mode. Compression top clinging to every muscle and shorts hanging low on his hips. Even though both boys are wearing the same style shirt—Chase’s in white and Damon’s in red—somehow, Damon makes his look better.
My gaze catches on his hair. It’s shorter than it was this morning, like he trimmed it just to drive me crazy. So I would want to run my fingers through it instantly.
But then my eyes trail lower, taking in his tall frame. Those broad shoulders. The way his biceps strain against his sleeves.
Maybe it’s because he’s been lifting this morning, causing the testosterone to ooze from his every pore, but he looks manly, almost primal. Like a lion ready to pounce.
Heat rushes through me so fast that I instantly wish he could skip practice and drag me back to his lair.
“Hey, Champ,” he murmurs, pulling me in for a kiss that leaves me lightheaded.
But honestly? He’s the one who looks like the true champion—like he could’ve been carved out of marble, timeless and godlike, straight out of Olympus.
Only in red.
I said that already, didn’t I?
After the kiss, he says, “We should finish early today, so hopefully, I’ll see you before seven. That work?”
“I have no plans,” I tease. “Of course it will work.”
“Well, you should have plans,” he practically purrs. “And if you don’t, you should be making them.”
“I’m confused,” I reply.
“Plans is code for all the things you want to do with me tonight. In bed—or wherever.”
I let out a breath. Nod. “I can do that.”
When we get back to the condo, we find a bouquet of flowers sitting outside the door.
Dani picks them up and hands them to me. “These have your name on them.”
A wide grin breaks out on my face. Because these flowers are adorable. And very patriotic—no, wait, not patriotic. They are collegiate maybe?
No, more like school spirit.
Anywho, there are a whole bunch of red roses, mixed with white carnations.
On some of the carnations are little red N’s.
Others have footballs. There are picks with other decorations on them in between the flowers—a jersey with Damon’s number on it, a corn cob, a team pennant, team mascot.
It’s a crazy, fun, and romantic gesture.
I love it.
I think about how Sammy put it out into the universe that I would meet someone in the Ozarks. And I’m hoping it will also help me find a job here, so Damon and I—and our baby—can be together every day.
I take the flowers upstairs and put them on the kitchen counter in Damon’s condo. Then Dani takes me to a nearby restaurant for lunch, followed by some shopping.
A matching set.
Damon
While I’ve been fully engaged in my workouts, practice, and meetings today, I have been looking very forward to getting home to my girl.
I open the door to my condo and am greeted with two things. The wonderful aroma of sizzling meat and Ainsley, clad in nothing but the apron that I wore for her in the Ozarks. When I left the facility, I was feeling a little tired, but that’s all gone now.
“You’re home!” she says cheerfully, turning to face me.
“What happened?” I say, my eyes wide when I see that she has a bruise under her eye.
“Oh yeah,” she says. “I’ve been trying to forget. Remember how I told you that I’m athletic, but I can be a bit of a klutz sometimes?”
I move toward her, pull her into my arms, letting my hands glide down to cup her naked backside, and nod.
“When we were shopping today, I maybe sorta had a run-in with a clothing rack.”
I grin at her and kiss her lips. “Am I going to have to go kick its ass, like I did that bush in the Ozarks?”
Laughter rings out. And it’s joy to my ears.
She rolls her eyes. “Maybe.”
I stop smiling and gently touch her face. “Does it hurt?”
“No, and don’t think you’re getting out of what I have planned for you tonight because of this. It’s barely swollen.”
“And what exactly do you have planned for me tonight, Miss Archibald?”
She smiles and pulls my shirt up over my head. “Nakedness.”
“And what are you cooking?”
“Fajitas. They are cooked and waiting in the warming drawer. The question is, which are you hungry for first? Them or me?”
I sweep her off her feet and carry her straight to my bed in reply, undo the apron strings, then slowly explore her body like it’s the first time.
And in a way, it feels like it.
Until she got here yesterday, it had been a month since I’d seen her.
And I want to make up for all those moments.
Rejoice in the way she giggles every time I kiss a certain part of her.
The purring in her voice when she whispers what she likes in my ear.
The boldness of her hand when she’s ready to stop being teased and wants more.
The sweetness of her lips and the forcefulness of her tongue.
Her athleticism and gracefulness as she flips herself—
“Ouch,” I mutter out, backing away as her elbow connects with my face.
Make that the bridge of my nose. I quickly close my eye and cover it with my hand.
“Oh my gosh!” she says. “I’m so sorry! I told you I’m such a klutz!”
“I’m fine,” I say, blinking a few times and laughing while pinning her down on the bed.
She reaches up and caresses my face. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I reply, then proceed to show her just how much.
A glance at the clock tells me that I’ve gotten another hour of working out in for the day, and my stomach is letting me know it.
Just when I’m thinking about mentioning it, she goes, “I’m starving. How about you?”
“For more of me or food?” I tease.
“Right now, food.”
“Me too,” I say, kissing her forehead. “But before we do, I want to know what you think of Lincoln.”
“It’s very nice,” she tells me. “I just want to be wherever you are.”
I get up and out of bed, smile at her, then hold out my hand, pulling her up.
She gets all the food she made out of the warming drawer and sets it on the table. I notice the flowers I’d sent her arrived and are on the kitchen counter. They are just as fun as I hoped they would look.
Years ago, when my dad and Jennifer were dating, my dad sent her a crazy Halloween bouquet, featuring a ton of orange roses but filled with all sorts of other glittering floral arrangement things.
Jennifer loved them so much that she planned her wedding around that bouquet, so I was pretty specific in my request for these flowers.
Okay, so I maybe had to call Jennifer and ask her what everything was called so I could order them, but still.
Ainsley follows my gaze. “I forgot to thank you for the flowers when you got home! I love them. I’ve never seen a bouquet like that, and they are just so festive!”
I grab her around the waist and say huskily, desire growing again, “That’s because you weren’t wearing much when I got home.”
She swats me away. “Oh, no. No more of that sexiness until after we eat dinner.”
I let her go. “Fine. What all do we have here?”
“Steak and chicken fajitas with mushrooms, peppers, and onions. Homemade tortillas I bought this afternoon. And all the fixings.”
We don’t chat a whole lot during dinner. We’re both just chowing down, but then she stops and looks at me.
“Your eye, um … shit. We’re going to be a matching set.”
I feel the top of my cheek and realize it’s a little swollen. I get up and look in the mirror by the front door and laugh. “We are.”