Page 18 of Make the Play

“For a minute, we’re going to pretend I’m not your brother’s best friend.” My voice is low and authoritative. “Are you with me, Corie girl?” I ask, and she nods. “Good. Then not for a single fucking second do I want you ever to think you’re not the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” I pause, giving my words a moment to sink in. I glance toward the kitchen, where Landry and Sloane are talking and snacking. “Eat the fucking pastries.” My voice is gruff and too stern for this conversation, but I can’t seem to change it.

Her green eyes study me for several heartbeats before she replies, “Coming from a man who could have any woman he wants. You’ve got it all—good looks, talent, charisma, a good career. You don’t have to worry about such trivial things.” Her tone is soft, but I can hear the underlying tone that tells me she’s serious. She thinks, what? That she’s not pretty? That her thighs are too wide because she ate a fucking croissant? What kind of men has she been hanging out with at that college in Cincinnati who didn’t tell her how gorgeous she is every single fucking day?

I guess that job falls to me, and I take my responsibilities seriously.

“Stand up.” My tone is softer, but my gaze tells her I mean business. I do the same as I wait for her to stand from the second recliner in the living room she’s been lounging in. In a few long strides, I’m standing before her. Taking her hand in mine, I move us a few paces to the left so we’re out of Landry’s and Sloane’s line of sight. “We’re still pretending, okay?” I ask her.

She peers up at me under long lashes and nods. “Okay,” she whispers, as if she needs to voice her validation along with her physical acknowledgment.

My eyes veer to the kitchen, and I can’t see them, which means they can’t see us. Knowing I’m crossing all kinds of lines, I do it anyway and slide my hands around her waist. My palm rests on the small of her back, and I pull her into me. I step closer, not leaving an inch of space between us.

“Knox.” She breathes my name, and my cock twitches. Her eyes widen, and I know she feels it. She feels me and what she does to me.

Her hair falls over her eyes, and I can’t have that. I need to see them when I tell her what I’m about to say. I need to know she’s listening. Gently, I push the loose strands behind her ear and smile when she softens as I run my index finger along her cheek. “You’re beautiful. Please don’t say things like that about yourself.”

“I was joking. Kind of.”

“That’s not funny.” I lean a little closer, dipping my head, because this woman is like a magnet pulling me into her orbit.

“I mean, it was kind of funny.” She shrugs one delicate shoulder.

I move in closer. Our lips are barely a breath apart when I turn my head and whisper in her ear, “You’re perfect, Corie girl. Remember that.” I press my lips just beneath her ear. It’s a brief touching of my lips to her skin, but it still sends a jolt of desire coursing through my veins. She shivers at the contact and leans into my hold.

Damn.

Knowing I’m pushing limits that I don’t need to be, I force myself to stand to my full height and release her. It takes more effort than going up against a three-hundred-pound defenseman to drop my hands from her waist and step back, breaking our connection.

“Corie!” Sloane calls out for her. “Do you want anything?”

She shakes her head, making me grin. “You have to answer her.” I’m ready to pull her into my arms and kiss the hell out of her, and that’s a line I can’t cross, so I force myself to take another step back. “I’m going to run to the restroom.” My hands itch to hold her again, but instead, I turn on my heel and walk out of the room.

In the bathroom, I close the door and twist the lock, needing that extra layer of distance between us. Bracing my hands on the counter, I bow my head and take a few deep breaths. I don’t know what the fuck has come over me, but it has to stop.

I can’t have her.

She’s Landry’s little sister. Landry Reynolds is my best friend and wide receiver. Me pursuing something with his sister would complicate well… everything. My personal and professional life would be up in flames. The worst part is that a small portion of me wants to let it all burn to have her. I don’t understand what the fuck is going on with me. That’s not who I am. I follow the rules. I always have. Football has made me disciplined, and I love the game. It’s the air I breathe, but then there’s Corie Reynolds.

Four years ago, when she left for college, she was just my best friend’s kid sister. I was new to the league and determined to succeed and show the world and the Rampage that taking a chance on me was the right thing to do.

Now, here we are. Four years later, I’m seeing Corie in a different light. A light that shines so damn brightly, it’s blinding, but I have to look away. I have to reel myself in. I’ve met beautiful women. I’ve dated them and spent time with them casually and intimately.

She’s not different.

Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I’ll believe it. Miracles happen every day.

When I return to the living room, everyone is in their original seats. I plop down on the couch and refuse to make eye contact with Corie. Thankfully, Sloane fills the void of silence, unaware of the interaction between her best friend and me while she was in the kitchen.

“Movie time. What’s everyone in the mood for?” she asks.

“Don’t care,” Landry says, looking as if he’s already in a food coma and could fall asleep at any minute.

“Well, let’s move to the theater room.”

“Can’t move,” Landry whines.

“Come on, old man,” Sloane teases.

“Nope. We can watch out here.”

---