Page 49 of Gridlocked on the Gridiron

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. They both stepped out, and she took in the tall, glass window overlooking Dallas.

“Thank you.” It was so quiet, she thought she’d imagined the words.

“Huh?” She stopped, scanning the hallway to figure out which of the many halls would take her to Colton’s room.

“It’s that way.” He pointed to their left, his eyes crinkling with a smile. “I’ve never seen Colton like this. Goofy. Happy. Actually having fun during the season.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s normally so serious, sometimes even in offseason. It’s different. So thank you.”

“Oh, I don’t think…” She didn’t even know how to finish that thought.

He shrugged again. “All I’m saying is something about this is different for him. And I’m glad. It’s about time.” He turned, walking down the hall opposite where he’d pointed her. “See you around, Lucia.”

Lucia tried not to read into his words. She knew Colton had only initially helped her out of a sense of obligation and pity. He’d felt bad that he’d gotten her into another sticky situation with the media. Still, Cooper’s words were the validation she needed to know that she’d been doing something right. Maybe she’d been helping Colton in more ways than one.

His room wasn’t far, and she knocked on the door, a little dazed from her conversation with Cooper. When he opened the door, he looked her up and down hungrily before his eyes turned worried as they landed on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing.” Unsurprisingly, he was wearing what had quickly become her favorite outfit on him. The white shirt and dark sweats slung low on his hips reignited the feeling she’d had in her room less than a half hour before.

She walked past him, trying to squash the thought of him pressing her against the wall. Instead, she focused on Cooper’s words. “You didn’t tell Cooper about us?”

“Us?” He closed the door, his head cocked slightly to the side.

“You know, us.” She waved her hand between them. “The fact that this isn’t real.”

“Oh.” His expression soured, and he walked past her to the bed. “I’m not much of a dater. I’ve had my share of”—he glanced at her before cutting his eyes away—“flings. But I haven’t been in a relationship since college. I’ve been so focused on the game from the moment I turned pro. So, yeah, my friends are really happy for me that I have someone, and I don’t want to take that away from them.”

“Have you thought about a real girlfriend? I hear they’re really easy to find for NFL quarterbacks. Especially Super Bowl-winning quarterbacks. They might even make you real happy. Make you more bearable.”

The thought wasn’t a pleasant one. She didn’t like thinking of him dating someone else one bit. She wasn’t even sure where the words had come from, but she almost wished she could take them back. Seeing Colton happy with someone else had the potential to hurt her feelings more than Max cheating on her, and that was an unsettling realization.

“‘Real happy?’ What does that mean?”

Lucia shrugged as she approached the desk, setting her tablet down.

“Do you think I’m faking happiness?” he probed.

“I don’t know. I’m just saying…you’re not horrible to look at. If you wanted a real girlfriend to, you know, fulfill your needs, make you happy, and be all the things you want, I’m sure you wouldn’t have to look far.” Now she was rambling and heading into territory she really didn’t want to be in.

“Was that your twisted way of giving me a compliment?” He lay down, his hands behind his head, biceps bulging as he watched her at the desk.

“Shut up.”

“For the record, I’m not really looking for a real girlfriend. I’ve got my hands full with you.”

Her pulse hammered at his words, but she covered it with a roll of her eyes. “I mean when we break up. After the season.”

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll see. I’m not sure it’s in the cards until I’m done with the NFL. I can’t really afford to be in a serious relationship when I have to spend as much time as I do training.”

There was that nonsense again. He acted as if half of his friends weren’t married with children. “What’s your excuse for Rudy? And Sam? And all the others who are on your Super Bowl-winning team with wives and children. Plenty of NFL players have partners.”

“Yeah? And what about you? What are you going to do after the season?”

If he was asking about her love life, that would be a bust. “I sign a contract somewhere that will let me work with them until they’re ready to promote me to head analyst.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. And stop fiddling with the tablet. Come sit, we both know you didn’t prep anything for us to work on.”

She hadn’t realized she was playing with the case of her tablet until he pointed it out. Just to spite him, she sat in the chair.

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