Page 49 of The Fantasy League
“Only when it comes to people taking what’s mine.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead and locked eyes with her. “You’re mine, you know that?”
She nodded and that cute little blush that made my pulse race spread across her face. “I’ve gotta go, but stay for the whole game. I’ll meet you outside the locker room afterward, yeah?” Scarlett gave me one last squeeze around the neck, and I gave her a quick kiss on the side of her hair before jogging back to where the other players were huddled by the benches.
Having her here in the stands wearing my jersey felt like a fucking fever dream. The only thing that would’ve made it better was if I could take her home and fuck her against the kitchen table with nothing but my jersey on.
I don’t think Scarlett realized how badly I fucking wanted her.
The girl was oblivious.
The roar of fans in the crowd drowned out my thoughts of her and focused my mind back on the game. I was more than ready to show everyone how much work I’d put in this off-season.
I wanted four League Bowl rings before I retired, and I was determined to fucking get them.
At least I could use the pent-up sexual tension from seeing Scarlett and harness that energy into the game. It wasn’t unknown for guys on teams across the league to abstain from sex during the season to keep their heads clear and maintain their energy.
Now I got why.
* * *
I ambledout of the locker room after a quick shower and spotted Scarlett chatting to one of the sports reporters for Network Entertainment Sports. Her gaze fell on mine as I neared them and her eyes brightened.
My fucking girl.
My heart soared out of my chest every time she looked at me like that. It was hard to believe there was a time not long ago that she wouldn’t even look me in the eyes when we spoke. I hadn’t so much as seen her nervously twirl her ring lately either.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been harassing my girl, Jamison,” I quipped, slinging an arm around Scarlett’s shoulders. I practically had to slouch to make it work because of the height difference, but I didn’t care.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Abbott.” The middle-aged guy who sported a patchy gray beard shot me a wink while I slipped my hand into the one he stuck out. “So, are you going to let me run the story about how the two of you met or wait for Page Six to butcher it?” he prodded, and the three of us chuckled together.
This guy was fucking funny. As far as sleazy sports reporters went, he was one of the better ones, so I didn’t mind giving him an exclusive. I’d rather it be him who got the story than some weird fuck who made up an elaborate one for clicks.
Things had been a bit dry for Scarlett and me lately on the tabloid front anyway. This was our first outing since we were spotted at Carlo’s restaurant a few weeks ago.
Not that I fucking cared if we were seen out in public though.
I’d take hanging out with her at home and talking together over breakfast before this public bullshit any day. But it couldn’t hurt for more buzz to circulate around us again; it was team fucking mandated after all.
“Subtle,” I joked. “You mind if I tell him?” I looked down at Scarlett, and she shook her head side to side while wrapping one hand around my bicep and slipping the other into mine, intertwining our fingers.
“Well, a few weeks before the start of last season, I was sitting in Coach Sterling’s office chatting with him about blocking drills when a pretty brunette waltzed in with Coach’s daughter, Lea. The pretty brunette had a basketful of banana bread in her hands and big brown eyes that paralyzed me the moment our eyes met.” My mouth curved up into an unconscious smile and I leaned down to press a quick kiss against her hair—which I’d come to learn always smelled like coconut shampoo.
“All it took was one bite of her banana bread before I offered her a job as my personal chef. She didn’t like me much at first, but I’d say I grew on her over time, yeah?” I threw a knowing wink at Scarlett.
“Maybe a little.” She tilted her head to one side playfully and shrugged a shoulder. Her bare neck was exposed and all I could think about was planting open-mouthed kisses up and down it.
“Thanks, guys. See you next time, Abel.” Jamison waved as he walked over toward some of the other players.
“You’re great at embellishing stories,” Scarlett whispered.
“Every word I said was the truth, Red.”
I wanted this. I wanted her. Ineededher.
Fuck if my heart didn’t drop when she told me in the car a few weeks ago that we might have been something more if we had started off differently.
I hated that she said it, but only because I knew it was true.
Just then, one of the team’s cheerleaders came running up to us. I’d never spoken to her, but I overheard some locker room talk about how relentless she was when it came to crawling into players’ beds. Apparently, she’d already fucked a handful of my teammates, and I had no desire to be her next conquest.
