Page 82 of Unrivaled

His warm breath fans over my ear, and then his soft lips find the skin just below it. “I mean it,” he whispers. “You’re utterly intoxicating.”

I turn to face him, wanting to return the compliment, but his lips capture mine, and all I can do is sink into his kiss and the feel of his hands on my body.

At times like this when he’s worshiping my body, it’s easy to believe that he wants me for myself. That he would want me regardless of the fact we have a child together. That even if I hadn’t gotten pregnant years ago after our party hookup, if our paths crossed like they did this year, he would’ve pursued me.

Part of me wants to believe it. The part that wishes Disney fairy tales could come true.

But the more cautious part of me, the part that ached at his supposed rejection … that part can’t quite believe it. And no amount of orgasms or pretty words will bring her on board.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Gray

“So that’s what it takes to distract you, huh?” McAdam says with a grin as he tosses me the football so I can take my turn to throw routes with Martinez.

I give him a quizzical look.

He rolls his hand like I should obviously know what he’s referring to. “Your kid? And his mom? Last night?” He tsks and crosses his arms. “If I’d known about her, I would’ve hunted her down to introduce you to your kid last semester. Maybe then I could’ve started after all.”

Cracking a grin, I toss the ball with Martinez a few times to warm my arm back up. “Nah, man. You still couldn’t have pulled it off.” After catching the ball, I give Martinez the nod to run his route, watching him before firing off a beautiful pass. Turning to McAdam, I quirk an eyebrow. “See? Tiffany and Ben showing up isn’t messing with my head.”

He laughs, and as much as I can’t quite believe he’d bring up how he tried to throw me off my game and take the starting quarterback spot back last semester like it’s a funny joke, on the other hand … it’s nice to be able to laugh about it. To treat it like a joke and get along, if only for Piper’s sake, rather than hang onto it forever.

Plus, I can’t entirely blame the guy. He started last year and had every reason to expect to start his senior year too. Only the university retired the last coach and brought in Coach Reese who brought me along too.

I mean, for sure trying to use my sister against me is super fucked up, but at least he’s admitted as much and apologized for it, even if he won’t leave her alone. And if I somehow convinced him to dump her, I’d be on Piper’s shit list forever, so there’s that. Plus I’d have to beat his ass for hurting my sister. It’s much nicer getting along.

“I dunno, man,” he continues. “When they first showed up?” He shakes his head. “I was watching you. Your performance took a hit. Even Coach Miles was talking about it. He and Coach Reese were worried if you’d be able to get your head back in the game in time for combines and wondered how much of a hit you’d take in the draft if you couldn’t.”

I catch the ball Martinez returns to me and turn to face McAdam. “The fuck?”

He shrugs, unrepentant. “You didn’t know that?”

Pointing the ball at him, I narrow my eyes. “You still trying to fuck with me? Trying to get in my head so you look better in the combines next week?”

He cracks a grin, which seems like a yes, but shakes his head. “Nah, man. I’m confident in my skills. Yours too. You’ll be fine. Plus, that was just a blip, and it could’ve happened to anyone. Hell, Simon had a few blips too, and he didn’t have any baby mama drama.”

Simon Hindley perks up from where he’s running drills nearby, stopping with his hands on his hips, his breath coming hard. “Shut up, Cal,” is all he says before returning to what he was doing.

McAdam meets my eyes, and we both laugh.

With another shake of my head, I signal Martinez to run. This time the pass goes a little high, making Martinez have to jump for it. The guy’s got an amazing vertical jump, so it’s no problem. But I shouldn’t be making him use it.

“Quarterbacks!” barks Coach Miles. “Quit gossiping and focus on your passing game!”

“Yessir!” McAdam and I respond in unison.

McAdam grins at me. “There’s gonna be plenty of trash talk at the combines. If you can ignore me blabbing about whatever’s going on with you and Tiffany, you can ignore anything. I’m just trying to help, man.”

Chuckling, I shake my head. This guy.

Martinez runs his route again, and this pass drops right into his hands.

“There you go,” McAdam says. “That’s the way you do it.” We watch Martinez jog back toward us, and I think maybe McAdam will finally take Hindley’s advice and shut up. But instead he asks, “So what’s going on with you two? It seems like it might be something, but also she shies away from you whenever you look like you might want to touch her.”

A low growl escapes me, and he holds up his hand. “I’m just curious, man,” he says like that’s some kind of acceptable defense. “We all saw you making out at Crowley’s that night. You weren’t exactly hiding it. She not sure she wants to put up with your sorry ass?”

I turn to him, eyebrows raised. “My sorry ass? Pretty sure I was the starter, and I’m the one tapped as a likely first round pick. Not you. Whose ass is sorry now?”

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