Page 49 of Run the Play
He bends and kisses my cheek. “You too, Roe.”
I slide behind the wheel, buckle my seat belt, and pull out of the driveway. My heart is racing, and my mind is moving just as fast. Things are definitely changing between us. It’s exciting and scary all at the same time. I know Landry is nothing like Chaz. He’s a good man, but if this—whatever this is—doesn’t work between us, where does that leave me? No friends? No found family? I’m the new girl in the group.
I need to remember that.
I might be falling for my fake boyfriend, but I can never have him for real. I could lose everything I’ve finally found, and that’s scarier than having my heart crushed by the wide receiver.
Chapter Thirteen
Landry
The locker room is lit up. The entire team, along with the staff, is amped for game time. Today is the first preseason game for us, and we’re ready. We’ve had the taste of a championship, and I hope like hell we can get a repeat. Training camp was good with no injuries, and practices have been on point. We’re conditioned and ready for battle.
The room is loud, and everyone is excited. I am, too, but this year, this game feels different. Not because we’re last year’s league champs, although that’s part of it, but the larger part is the woman who’s going to be watching me from the sidelines.
Rowan.
Over the last two weeks, we’ve been talking on the phone every night. We start out texting, and by the end of the night, I’m video chatting with her because I need to see those beautiful blue eyes before I fall asleep. She’s opened up to me about growing up in foster care and her time with that fucker, Brown. We’ve grown close, and dare I say, she’s my best friend.
Yes, Knox still also holds that title, but this is different. Whatever this is with Rowan is intense and feels like so much more than friendship. We’ve had dinner out a few times. I blew it off that the public needed to see us together to see that we were truly dating. I lied. I just wanted to have dinner with her. It’s as simple as that. However, I was worried that I was coming on too strong, so I hid behind the fake dating. The fake dating that’s not so fake anymore. Not for me.
I don’t think it is for her, either, but I’ve been too chicken shit to ask her. I’ve fallen hard and fast for this woman, and the thought of her pushing me away doesn’t sit well. So, instead, I hide behind the ruse. Every time we’ve gone out, and I’ve walked her to her door, I’ve ached to kiss her. To show her that I’m falling for her, but I’ve held off. She’s too important to move too fast.
I can wait as long as it takes for her to be ready. I just hope that one day, she’s willing to take a chance on letting another man, specifically me, into her heart, because she’s damn well slithered her way into mine.
I’m dressed in full pads in my uniform and ready to go. There’s still some time before we head out to the field. I might as well have a snack. I work my way to the food table and grab a bag of chips. They’re baked and not my favorite, but it’s food, and it’s free, so who am I to complain? As I eat my chips, I find myself heading toward the training rooms.
Heading toward Rowan.
I spot her immediately. She’s wearing khaki pants and a Rampage polo. Her hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, and her ass in those pants is sensational. It pisses me off that every man in this stadium and on television gets to see her like this. There is no looking away from the beauty of my Rowan. “Fancy meeting you here,” I call out, popping a chip into my mouth.
Rowan lifts her head from where she is packing her training bag and smiles. “Pregame snack?” she asks.
“Yep.” I flash her a toothy grin and toss another chip into my mouth.
“Are you nervous at all?” she asks, hopping up on one of the treatment tables, her legs swinging back and forth.
“Nah, nothing to be nervous about.”
“You’re right. Playing in front of thousands of fans in the stadium and millions more on television is just another Sunday.” She shakes her head, a soft smile playing on her lips.
“It is for me,” I say, walking farther into the room. I hop up on the table next to her and offer her a chip. She takes one, and I don’t know why, but my heart swells. “I don’t share with just anyone,” I tell her, grabbing another chip for myself.
“I feel special.”
“That’s because you are.” I lean my shoulder into hers, hoping like hell she can hear the sincerity of my words.
“You’re something else, Landry Reynolds.”
She’s smiling, which makes my heart beat faster. Finishing off my chips, I stand from the treatment table, toss the empty bag into a nearby trash can, and come to stand in front of her. “You ready?”
She raises her brows. “Ready for what?” she asks cautiously.
“Our handshake.”
“What?” she asks, confusion and humor clear in her tone.
“Our handshake. All my touchdowns today are for you, and we need a handshake to celebrate.”
