Page 41 of Resisting the Running Back

And tonight, she’s my date.

My fiancée.

And I will make damn sure everyone at the event knows it—especially with that ring on her finger.

“You look so handsome,” she says softly when she spots me. She walks up to me and adjusts my tie, and I was pretty sure it looked fine before. I can’t help but wonder if she’s making up an excuse to touch me. Surely it’s just my overactive imagination at play.

“You’re gorgeous, Soph,” I say. My eyes fall to hers, and that searing heat between us appears to be back.

Fuck, I havegotto get control over myself. I grab my whiskey and chug what’s left—probably a mistake given that I have to spend the night with her, but a little dulling of the nervous system seems to be exactly what I need right now.

“Thanks,” she says.

“Can I get you a drink before we go?”

She nods. “I’d love maybe just a quick shot of your whiskey or something. I’m nervous to meet all these football players.”

I laugh. “They’re really just a bunch of disgusting overgrown boys.”

She raises a brow. “Including yourself?”

I shake my head. “Of course not. But Tanner? Definitely.”

She giggles. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.”

“Go for it. He’ll agree.” I slide a glass over to her, and I tip the bottle of whiskey over both our glasses. I hold mine up. “To another fun night.”

“To all the football players,” she counters.

I narrow my eyes at her. “To the only football player you’ll be going home with.”

She looks taken aback for a beat, so I backpedal.

“Because we live together. And, you know…because we’re engaged.”

She clinks her glass to mine, and her eyes meet mine. “Yeah. Because of that.” Her voice is sort of an echo, but there’s something in her eyes I can’t quite read.

A limo takes us to the event, and a half hour later, we’re pulling in. I get out of the car and rush around to her door to open it, and then we walk the red carpet. Her cold hand slips into mine as photos are taken and questions are fired.

“Miller, is it true you’re engaged? Is this your fiancée?” someone asks, and I turn toward him.

“Yes and yes. Her name is Sophie Summers, and I’m the luckiest man in the world that she said yes.” Even though I never asked. Technicalities.

“When’s the wedding?” someone else asks.

“Soon,” Sophie says, and there’s more warmth and confidence in her voice than I was expecting.

We head inside, take some more photos, and get into the ballroom, where I spot Tanner near the bar talking to SpencerNash, our teammate and one of the four half-brothers we only learned about a little over a year ago when we learned Eddie Nash was our birth father. Eddie passed away at the end of last year before Tanner and I got the chance to get to know him, and it’s something I’ve struggled with over the last few months, to be honest.

But having Sophie here has helped. I’ve barely thought of those struggles at all since she’s been here. All I’ve thought about is her, and tonight is no different as I watch her walk, my eyes falling to the dangerous slit in her dress.

All I can do is imagine my palm sliding along that thigh until I get to where the slit ends, but my hand won’t stop there. It’ll keep going as I pull the heart-shaped neckline down with my other hand and suck one of her tits into my mouth.

I need to get a handle on these thoughts. I beeline toward my brothers at the bar, and Tanner and I share our typical secret handshake greeting. I turn to Spencer next, who bro-hugs me, and then I introduce Sophie.

“This is my fiancée, Sophie Summers,” I say. “Sophie, my secret half-brother, Spencer Nash.”

Spencer chuckles at my introduction as he shakes Sophie’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

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