Page 74 of Gridlocked on the Gridiron

Chapter twenty-seven

Lucia

Lucia felt the man’s hands on her waist, disappearing after only a second or two. She whirled around to yell at him, but Colton was already gripping him by his collar, whispering something in his ear that had the guy paling. Lucia’s heartbeat ratcheted at the sight, reminded once again of what she was about to give up.

Colton dropped him as he spoke, quiet but dangerous. “Go. Away.” He took a step closer to Lucia, his voice falling to a whisper for only her ears. “You okay?”

Her whole body erupted with warmth at the sound of his deep voice, strained as if he were trying to hold himself back from something. She took a step toward him, placing a hand on his cheek.

“I’m okay.”

She’d had plenty to drink, and she knew it was making her do things she shouldn’t, but if this was the last night she had with him, she wanted it all. She’d made her peace with their time coming to an end—or at least she was trying to—but why shouldn’t she let herself enjoy the night they had left?

What she wanted was his hands on her, his lips on her, his everything on her. She felt hot, hot, hot and she wanted him. She grabbed his hands and placed them on her waist, swaying with the music until he loosened up and watched her, seemingly entranced. She turned around in his arms, allowing her hips and ass to rub up against him in a way that brought her body to life. Luckily, Jenna and Leigh didn’t seem to mind.

Lucia had been to plenty of New Year’s Eve parties when she’d been with Max, but she’d always been the stuffy analyst at those parties. She’d stood beside Max in her work-appropriate dress and chatted quietly with some of the team wives. The only time she’d really been able to let loose was when she and Isa had gone out, away from Max.

Being there in Charleston with Colton and the Sabers, she basked in the fact that there were no expectations, no arbitrary rules she had to follow. She could dance and laugh and yell and drink and smile as much as she wanted, and she loved every second of it.

The volume of the music lowered as they moved closer to midnight, and her heartbeat started to slow while she and Colton chatted with their friends about the season and the new year, his hands placed somewhere on her at all times. It made her wonder if maybe he was struggling with this as much as she was. Did he feel that twist in his stomach the way that she did? Did he feel the sandpaper in his mouth and throat like she did? Based on his reaction at her house, she thought it was possible.

Two minutes before midnight, when the countdown on Devin’s TV began, she turned, placing her hands around Colton’s neck and playing with the hair at its nape. Their eyes met, tinged with a sadness that only they understood, but the moment that grin found his face, the whole world disappeared. She could almost imagine they were really together and in love. There was only Colton. Bright, beautiful, goofy-only-for-her Colton. She grinned right back, wanting him to smile at her like that forever, despite knowing she shouldn’t and that he wouldn’t.

“What’re your resolutions for the new year, Moretti?”

She hadn’t had time to think about her resolutions much, though honestly, when had she ever?

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He squeezed her waist tightly, chiding her, but the feeling of his hands tight around her only served to fuel the desire that’d been simmering below the surface. His eyes dropped to her lips like he knew exactly where her mind was.

“I suppose my top resolution will be to help the Sabers get another Super Bowl win.” She didn’t voice the first one that came to her: finding a hobby that made her as giddy as being in his arms. She was too scared to tell anyone, knowing the chances of her finding anything remotely close were unlikely.

Something like sadness flickered in his eyes for a second before everyone in Devin’s house began shouting down from ten. She closed her eyes as they reached one, pulling him close to her and kissing him deeply, turning into putty as one of his hands slid up to cup her face. He pulled away much too quickly, and she pouted, opening her eyes as everyone around them cheered.

“Happy New Year, Moretti,” he whispered, pained.

He didn’t pull away entirely, and her eyes searched his face before she asked, “What about your resolutions?”

“I suspect those will be broken soon enough. Probably better if I don’t tell you.”

“Colton.”

“Lucia.”

She huffed. “That’s not fair. I told you mine.” Even if she’d bent the truth a little.

She was startled when he bent closer to her, his hand still cupping her chin, his lips against the shell of her ear in a way that made her shiver.

“Fine. I told myself that I’d fight every single urge I have around you until, inevitably, you’re no longer mine. I promised myself that I’d keep my hands off the curve of this waist that I love so much. That I’d stop thinking about tasting you every time you glare at me. That I’d stop thinking about the way you moan when I’m fucking you. I promised myself that I’d find something else to occupy myself with, ideally football, because the fantasies I keep having about you can’t be healthy. But above all, I promised myself that I’d find the strength to walk away from you after the Tampa Bay game, because if not, I’ll never be able to get you out of my head. And I’m starting to think that one’s been broken long before now.”

Her breath had caught at his first words, and she’d held it until he finished, heat pooling between her thighs. She didn’t know when her eyes had closed, but she was acutely aware of her other senses, the feeling of his breath on her ear, the sounds of Devin’s music getting louder now that the new year had begun, the smell of sweat and beer and longing. The taste of him, minty, with a hint of beer, still sat on her tongue.

She was confused. So fucking confused. His words were a confession that neither of them seemed prepared for, especially not now. Not after what she’d said at her house. Why hadn’t he said something like this when they’d been talking then? She knew she had moved away from him, trying to find the courage to tell him that they needed to stop, but she also knew that if he would have pulled her into his arms again, she might’ve given up on all of it. Why hadn’t he tried to comfort her with these words if he felt the same way?

Because he was good. So good, and so sweet. The sweetest man she’d ever met. He cared about her feelings and respected her boundaries, always making sure he wasn’t overstepping. And now he was telling her that he wasn’t going to be able to get her out of his head, and she didn’t know what to make of it, even as she felt her heart splinter.

Tears pricked her eyes, but all she could say was, “Colt…”

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