Page 53 of Hello Quarterback

FORD

I wentto the hotel gym to get in a light lifting session and distract myself from the thoughts going through my mind. Mia hadn’t replied, and I didn’t want to think about what that meant.

This was one of the reasons I’d been hesitant about relationships. I should have been focusing on the game right now, maybe getting in some extra film review, and instead I was like a high school kid on prom night, wondering why my date had stood me up.

I started with a warmup, then went to get in some reps on the bench press. Between each set, I got off the bench, adding extra plates. My arms were feeling a good burn when I went to the rack where my towel hung, wiping off my sweaty hands.

The door to the gym opened, and I looked up, fully expecting to see another guy from the team.

Instead, there was Mia, wearing the jersey I gave her and a flirty black skirt.

My mouth went dry.

She was here.

She was wearing my number.

Thousands of people owned and wore my jersey, but none of them looked as good in it as she did.

“Mia,” I managed. “How did you get past the team’s security?”

She smiled shyly at me as she stepped farther into the gym, letting the door shut behind her. “I have my ways.”

I grinned at her, despite wishing I was less sweaty and up in my room. Flowers and chocolate-covered strawberries waited for her there. “Let’s head upstairs,” I said, all my earlier angst forgotten.

“You can finish your workout,” she said. “I know your work is important.”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter,” I replied. I went to her, fisting the jersey at her hips and drawing her closer to me.

She looked up at me, long, dark lashes framing blue eyes, her lips tinted the perfect shade of pink.

“I could skip the gym and lift you in the room,” I hummed, leaning down to kiss her lips.

She smiled against my kiss, saying, “I doubt you could lift me.”

Indignation flared as I pulled away from her. “Want to bet?” My pride was roaring to life, demanding to be defended.

She scoffed. “You’re that confident?”

“Your weight is my warmup,” I countered.

“Then prove it,” she challenged, her gaze flicking from my lips to my eyes.

God, the way my cock responded to her. But I had work to do first. I went back to the bench, counting out the plates on each side of the barbell. “Two twenty-five.”

“Higher,” she countered.

I went to the rack, getting two twenty-five-pound plates and adding them on.

“It’s a start,” she said, arms folded over her gorgeous chest.

A start... I’d show her.

I went back to the bench, lying down, and took the bar into my hands, bringing the weight to my chest and then back up several times. “Easy.”

She clapped her hands slowly. “Okay, you showed me. We can go to the?—”

But I was already adding more weight to the bar. She might have been with guys who couldn’t handle her before, but I was determined to show her I was more than up to the challenge.

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