Page 59 of False Start
I frown. “I think that’s a bit rash, however, you need to be a bit more selective with who you allow to touch you. Just because you didn’t touch her doesn’t mean you weren’t wrong for not stopping it. I hope you put yourself in my shoes and imagined how it would feel to be where I was last night.”
He comes around the couch and has a seat next to me. “It’s what I’ve done all day. And I’m sorry. You’re right because if I’d been in your shoes, I wouldn’t have exited quite so gracefully. I know I said things last night, but I want to thank you for not causing a scene. It’s more than I think I could do in the same situation.”
I slide my hand on top of his, ready to forgive and forget. He’s sincerely apologetic, and I can’t stand the rift any longer. I need to be closer to him and mend us until we’re whole. “Thank you.”
He reaches out and cups my chin in his hand and rubs his thumb over my lips. “Do you still love me?”
“To the moon and back, Quarterback.”
“Come here, woman,” he says and leans in to kiss me.
His kiss is desperate and hungry as though he can’t get close enough or deep enough. Long, deft fingers tangle in my blond hair as I leave my seat to straddle him. His right hand leaves my hair and travels to my hip to push down. I moan at the friction against and smile at the hardness beneath me.
Bryant breaks the kiss and opens his eyes. His pale green orbs search mine. “I need you, Zhanna.” We’ve had intimate moments, and we’ve made love, but I’ve never been as wrapped up in his energy as I am right now. “Hold on tight, baby,” he says as he lifts me into the air. I lock my legs around his waist and throw my arms around his neck.
He takes us up the stairs and down the hall to our bedroom where he lays me on the bed before sliding over my body. Next, we take our time exploring each other’s bodies with our hands. I love the soft skin of his back and by contrast, the roughness of his hands. His hands feel as they should- like a man’s hands.
We take our time removing each other’s clothes and visually taking each other in. I trace the script of my name on his chest and then place a kiss to the spot. When women throw themselves at him, I need to remember he loves me enough to keep me inked on him permanently. I need to remember I’m the one he’s coming home with.
“I love you,” he whispers as he lines himself up and pushes inside. “I’m yours, and you’re mine, and we’ll be that way until the end of time, in this life and the next.”
“I love you, too, QB.”
I’M ANXIOUS ALL DAY for the game. Late games are the worst on the nerves, especially when it’s a big game, and today is most definitely a big game. I can’t believe my husband is going to debut in the league as a starting quarterback tonight. It’s surreal to be here on this journey with him.
When I arrive at the stadium, a security guard checks my i.d. and smiles. His name tag reads Marlon. “Mr. Hudson has been impatiently waiting for you to arrive. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to him.”
“He’s nervous,” I say.
“Quite, but understandably so.”
After we reach the locker room where another slew of guards stand, Marlon announced, “Mr. Hudson requested his wife be brought down before the game.”
Moments later, Bryant slips out with a huge smile on his face. Before I can ask him how he’s holding up, he leans down, picks me up, and squeezes me tightly. As he tucks his face into the side of my neck, he whispers, “My good luck charm is here.”
I can feel a slight quiver beneath his muscles, a sure sign of his anxiety about the game. I squeeze him back and say, “You’re nervous.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, babe, a little, but I’m better now that you’re here.”
“You’re going to be amazing. You know how it is when you’re on the field and in the zone. Everything except the game fades away. Four quarters will pass before you know, and you’ll put up your first big W of the season.”
“You have a lot of faith in me, Mrs. Hudson.”
“I have all the faith in you, baby.” Out of the corner of my eye, movement catches my eye. Priscilla saunters up to the guards at the locker room door but doesn’t take her eyes off us. I pretend not to see her, and I’ m glad she’s behind Bryant. I want her to see what my mom was talking about–us being in love. It’s the best ammunition I have against the Priscilla’s of the world.
And I couldn’t write the scene any better myself as Bryant touches his hand to my cheek and leans in to kiss me. “I love you,” he says after he breaks it. He turns his head to Marlon and asks, “Will you see her to the box?”
“It would be my pleasure,” the guard says.
“Please don’t leave the box and wander by yourself. Take a guard with you. And no matter how this shakes out on the field, I want your face to be the first I see at the end of four quarters.”
A huge grin splits my face. “I can do that.”
He gives me one last kiss before Marlon walks me to one of the boxes reserved for wives and girlfriends of players. I look over my shoulder to see Priscilla glaring at me, so I smile and send a wink in her direction as if to say,how ya like me now,bitch?
When I make it to the box, it takes me a moment to recognize the girl standing outside the door.
“Zina?”
