Snort.
The glow on both their faces is obvious.
Satisfied. Relaxed.
The kind of glow that comes from multiple rounds and a hotel bed with no interruptions. And really, good for them.
They got back earlier than planned.
Apparently, some of the boys were eager to shave time off the nine-hour drive to New Orleans, which meant hitting the road before the sun was even fully up.
Can’t say I blame them. These RVs may be tricked out for travel, but being cooped up, bouncing from field to field, was enough to make even the chillest person a little twitchy.
Technically, the season had started, but the Carolina Rovers were the new kids on the block.
A few friendly matches and exhibitions were their way in.
Low-pressure games.
A way to feel things out without disrupting the league too much.
Smart. Makes sense.
And it also explains why I’m here, getting eyes on the team, building the brand, making them impossible to ignore online.
“Want ham or turkey?” Carolina calls without looking back.
“Whichever. Surprise me,” I reply, staring down at my phone and not at the mental replay of Koa’s mouth on my neck.
My cheeks go hot anyway.
Carolina glances over her shoulder, eyes narrowing in that way only best friends can manage.
“You okay? You’re doing that thing where you zone out and pretend you're not thinking about something, or maybesomeone?”
She’s looking at me like she can see the answers on my face, But I ignore her. I know her tricks.
“I’m fine,” I say too quickly.
She smirks. “That’s not a denial.”
I groan and collapse into the bench seat, letting my head thunk back against the window.
“Carolina,” I mutter, voice low, “I think I might’ve made a mistake.”
She turns, sandwich forgotten for the moment, and leans against the counter.
“Define mistake. Like‘I ate bad gas station sushi’mistake, or‘I let a certain broody rugby player kiss me into another dimension in the middle of the night’mistake?”
My eyes snap wide. “How do you even know that?!”
She grins, completely unapologetic.
“You’ve been acting like your soul left your body. You’re glowing, you flinched when Dane said his name before, and you’ve edited the same highlight reel five times today. Girl math says orgasm.”
I bury my face in my hands.
“So, are we talking regret, or what-does-this-mean panic?”