Page 9 of Hot Route
He feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart. “Damn, Becks. You wound me. I’ll have you know, I always wrap it up. I may be a man-whore, but I’m asmartman-whore.”
I roll my eyes, pretending he isn’t right about Mads being an absolute knockout. The last thing I need is him going after her, fucking her, breaking her heart, and making things weird as fuck for me. “You act like you didn’t have that actress fromWavelengthbegging to suck you off two nights ago. She’s a dime, man.”
“Okay, first of all, she didn’t beg. She asked once, very politely. Who am I to tell America’s sweetheart no? I don’t need that kind of karma. Spot me,” he says, laying down on the bench.
I step up to the bar, hovering my hands under it in case he needs it while he lowers the weights to his chest. He bangs out ten reps, then sets the bar back on the rack before sitting up.
“I’m just messing with you, Becks. If you want her for yourself, just say that.”
This guy is a fucking handful.
I sigh, frustrated. “I don’twant her for myself. I just want her to be able to come in here and do her job. That’s it.” I’m a goddamn liar, but that’s definitely not something I’m willing to admit out loud. Truthfully, she’s hot as hell and I’d love to bury my face between her legs. But Mac is right. I definitely need to keep things professional. Mads is the key to me keeping my shit together so I can focus on what’s important. Football.
“Ten-four, buddy. Whatever you want to tell yourself,” he says, wiping down the bench before throwing the towel into the hamper. I grab my water bottle and finish its contents. My arms feel heavy and kind of sore, which means I probably overdid it a little bit today. But the regular season starts in two weeks, so I’ve been trying to take everything up a notch. Players like Dalton and I don’t get many reps on the field during preseason games. It gives our second and third string players an opportunity to see the field while also protecting the starters from injury before the season kicks off. I’ll admit, it’s hard to watch from the sidelines, but I understand the importance of keeping us healthy.
We head back upstairs, anticipation running through me the closer I get to Mads.What’s that about?
Entering the kitchen, she’s nowhere to be seen, so I say my goodbyes to Dalton and head down the hall toward my, orour,office. I pause at the doorway, watching her scroll through her phone. She hasn’t noticed me yet, so I take in the delicate slope of her perfect nose. The rosy color of her soft cheeks. A strand of shiny chocolate brown hair escapes from behind her ear, falling into her eyes. I fist my hands at my sides, stopping myself from walking over to tuck it back.What the fuck is happening to me?
Realizing I need to get my shit under control and keep this relationship strictly business, I clear my throat softly and enter the room. She startles slightly before her face relaxes into a smile when she realizes it’s me.
“Sorry,” she says, standing from the fluffy desk chair I had the designer pick out for her. “I didn’t want to interrupt you, so I figured I’d sit here and scroll Instagram until you gave me some work to do. The thirst traps are on point today.”
“The fuck is a thirst trap?” I reply, confused.
“Blaze, you’re a professional athlete withthose,” she says, gesturing toward my midsection. “Please tell me you use them to your advantage on social media.”
I smirk before lifting my shirt just enough for my abs to come into view. “You mean these?” I reply, unable to wipe the cocky grin from my face. I flex the muscles subtly, just because. Her green eyes lock on to my exposed skin and I swear I hear her breath hitch. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but she almost looks turned on.
That makes two of us, Baby Doll.
She shakes her head as if she’s trying to clear it of whatever thoughts she’s having before she brings her eyes to mine. “You have a lot of fans that are women. Why not use your body to gain followers?”
I raise a brow, not really sure where she’s going with this. Thankfully, she continues.
“I’m not saying to strip naked and show them all your…goods,” she says, cheeks heating.God, she’s cute.“But you’d besurprised at the views you could get from a few shirtless Reels of yourself working out. Toss a shirt from your clothing line on at the end of it and you just brought all that attention to your brand.” She shrugs like that isn’t the most brilliant idea ever.
I walk over, putting an arm around her shoulder and leading her out of the room. “Well, first let me give you a tour of the place. Then you can teach me everything you know about the art of the thirst trap.”
NINE
MADS
“Sarah! I’m home!”I shout from the entryway. Setting my keys into the decorative bowl on the sofa table, I look around to see an empty room. Sara is usually home by the time I get home from Blaze’s, but the place is completely silent.
I sit on the couch and grab the remote, flipping to ESPN. It isn’t long before Blaze’s face fills the screen while they talk about how he’s already on track for a record-breaking year. We’re officially into the regular season and he’s on top of the ranks for targets, receptions, and receiving yards. He’s also second in yards-after-catch. He’s even more impressive than I expected. And seeing it in person? He’s amazing.
Things have been great off the field, as well. We had his first pop-up shop the second week I was working for him and it went great. Watching Blaze interact with his fans is the most wholesome thing I’ve ever seen. He truly loves and appreciates them for getting him where he is. Most superstars get annoyed with people coming up to them on the streets, begging for autographs and photos. Not Blaze. He feeds off their energy and is always happy to take the time with them.
One thing thatdoesdrive me crazy is the way that some of his female fans feel like they have free rein to put their hands on him. The first time I watched one of them sneak her hand under the hem of his shirt while posing for a photo with him, I was shocked. And when I asked him about it, he gave me a non-committal shrug like it was just something that wasn’t a big deal.
Why it bothers me so much is not something I’d like to unpack right now…or ever.
I mean, I get it. He’s hot as sin and I’d love to run my hands over his body. But doing it without asking is just desperate.
Why am I still thinking about this?
I snap out of my thoughts when Sarah busts through the door, giggling maniacally. She stops in front of the couch but continues bouncing on the balls of her feet like a toddler whose cool aunt just sugared them up before sending them home. I stare blankly, waiting for some type of explanation as to why she’s acting like a lunatic, but she just continues hopping in front of me.
