Page 65 of Trust Me Always

Some people shout from the upper deck, and I face the field just in time to watch the team jog out. We hop to our feet, shouting and clapping as they all fall into formation at the forty. As in sync as always, they form parallel lines, moving right into stretches before breaking up into groups for pregame drills.

A quick glance at my phone a bit later tells me it’s twenty minutes to kickoff, and right on time, the boys file to the sidelines, ditching their helmets to fuel up on water and electrolytes.

It’s Mason who spots us first, his grin spreading as he jogs over.

“How the hell did you score these seats?” He scopes the area.

“Shhh,” I scold, and he laughs, looking back and catching Brady’s attention.

Brady frowns at him, but then his eyes move left.

He spots Ari first, then Paige, and finally, his eyes land on me.

His cup freezes halfway to his lips, his smile slow. Then he’s tossing the paper product, water flying all over as he lets out a loud whoop that gains us the attention of everyone around.

I beam brightly, putting my hands on my hips, and give several poses.

“And here comes the boyfriend,” Mason teases, throwing me a smile.

Brady doesn’t simply lean against the edge. No, he hops up, kicks one leg over, and sits his ass there. His eyes move from mytop to my cheek and back. He opens his mouth, but I spin, doing a little shimmy, and then before I know what he’s doing, he’s yanking me over the edge.

I yelp, legs flying in the air as I feel like I’m about to fall backward for a split second before my boots hit the ground.

“Brady, what the hell!” I laugh, but then I’m in his arms again, this time bridal style, which is kind of awkward with his already-massive body and the pads bulking his shoulders out even more. “You’re going to get me in trouble!”

“Nah. Coach loves me. Besides, this is too good. My name is on your ass, Cam. This has to be documented.”

I raise a brow. “Documented?”

“Oh yeah.” He starts jogging down the sideline, and I grip him harder, my ponytail flying around and whipping me in the face when he spins suddenly and takes off the other way, flying past his team, who yell and root him on. “You ready for this, Cammie Girl?”

“Ready for what exactly?”

He stops and sets me on my feet, twirling me around and then yanking me to his chest. He grins wildly. “For this.”

And then he kisses me, hard and greedy and not atallPG, his tongue sweeping in instantly, teasing and tasting mine one second, then he’s yanking back in the next. He’s full-on cheesing now, his laughter mixing with my own.

“Did you mess up my face paint? ’Cause I’ll have you know writing backward in the mirror is not easy.”

He leans away, gaze traveling the shape of his number on my cheek, then the little shark on the other side. “Nope. Still perfect. Shirt too.” He smiles down at my outfit. “So. If I weren’t wearing these pads right now, would I feel a little metal poking through?”

I laugh, teasing, “Brady Lancaster, are you asking if you made my nipples hard?”

“What? No! I meant… Wait.” He grins slowly. “Did I?”

I chuckle, shaking my head, and answer the question he wasreally asking. “It’s called a padded bra. A must when you have what I do hiding underneath.”

“And how long exactly have you had to wear said padded bra?”

“Nice try, Big Guy”

“Worth a shot. Imma get it out of you, you know,” Brady swears, his attention shifting over my head. “Here we go, girl.”

Before I can ask what that means, his name is shouted gleefully from my left, and I turn to look that way.

“Brady! Can you give us a minute? Tell us who the lucky lady is!” A microphone is shoved between us as a gorgeous, dark-haired woman steps up. “And she’s wearing your number!”

“My number, my name.” He throws me a quick wink. “My heart on her sleeve.”

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