Page 48 of The Fantasy League
* * *
My jawfucking dropped at the sight of Scarlett walking toward the practice field wearing a cropped jersey withmy numberon it and enticing as fuck Daisy Dukes that hugged her thighs while her hips swayed. Mae walked alongside her, but I was too enamored by Scarlett to notice she existed.
Fuck, Scarlett was going to be the death of me.
Partly because of the fact that I was going to have to sucker punch a few of my teammates in the gut for staring at her slack-jawed.
She spotted me from a couple yards away and I waved her over while willing my dick to behave. She ran toward me and squealed as she jumped to wrap her legs around my waist.
This really wasn’t helping my dick problem.
“Where’d you get my jersey from?” I questioned, pulling back so I could see her face. “You secretly one of my groupies, Red?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She rolled her eyes with a smile. “Lea dropped it off for me earlier. She said you’d have my head if I wore October’s jersey instead, but that was the only one I had.”
“She’s not fucking wrong.” My blood boiled at the mental image of Scarlett walking in with October’s jersey as a little crop top. “Tell her thank you for me.”
I held tight to the back of her thighs, hiking her up a bit. “I feel like I should probably tell you that I don’t know a single thing about football.”
“You’re kidding?”
“If the people on Socialgram hadn’t coined you with the nickname ‘Mr. Tight End’ odds are, I probably wouldn’t even know what position you played.”
Whatever position she wanted.
Both in and out of the bedroom.
Get your mind out of the fucking gutter, Abbott.
“So you’ve been stalking me on Socialgram, huh?” I eased her down my body and placed her feet on the ground, still keeping my hands gripped on her waist.
“Pshh, no…” She glanced off to one side. “Maybe… a little.”
“As long as I’m the only one.”
Scarlett glanced over to the sidelines where a few photographers were taking pictures of the practice for the press. “Should we kiss or something? You know, for practice… in case we ever need to.”
I bent down slightly, pressing my forehead to her so our mouths sat a few inches apart. My lips ached for her touch. Ached to know if they tasted the same way that cupcake ChapStick smelled.
It was then and only then that I allowed myself to entertain the thought of breaking our rule. As much as I wanted to kiss her—and fuck, I wanted to more than anything—the first time I kissed her, it wasn’t going to be “for practice.”
No.
The first time I claimed her lips, it was going to be real.
And sure as fuck not while others swarmed around us vying for the chance at the next headline.
“Already trying to break the rules, huh, Red?” One side of my mouth curled upward. “Don’t tell me you’re seeing other people too.”
“Well, I do have a date with a guy, John, next week. We met in the produce section last week while I was grabbing some groceries to make that Mediterranean dish we talked about…” Scarlett’s eyes stayed unwaveringly locked to mine and her face was impassive. “Don’t worry though. I promise I won’t let anyone find out or anything.”
“You what?” My jaw clamped tight and my grip around her waist tightened possessively.
Who the fuck wasJohnand why did I feel the sudden fucking urge to murder him in cold blood?
“Jesus, I’m kidding.” A smile curved her mouth, and she released a breathy laugh. “You should’ve seen your face. Who knew you were so possessive?”
Oh, I fucking knew.
