Page 12 of My Secret Bandit

A breath caught in my throat when he brushed a rogue strand of hair back into place behind my ear, his skin barely brushing over mine.

“Um…” With no words willing to make an appearance, my lips closed. He chuckled and shook his head, his curls swishing from side to side. His eyes watched my mouth before traveling down.

Long fingers moved along the edge of my press badge. He turned it over, letting it rest in his palm. “Jameson Flynn.” His eyes twinkled at mine. “I’m Mateo. Nice to officially meet you.”

“Hi. It’s actually just Jamie though,” I pushed my hand out, and he returned the gesture. His hand swallowed mine, large and warm and comforting.

“Okay. For what it’s worth, Jameson fits you perfectly. It’s beautiful.” He smiled, sensing the unease I felt when he read my badge.

I grew up hating my name. I was still pretty young when I told my mom I’d rather go by Jamie. I cringed every time I heard Jameson used instead, but hearing him say it, it suddenly felt right. Like if he were to keep using it, I’d probably forget why I spent twenty-plus years hating it. A small squeeze of my hand, and I realized our handshake turned into hand holding, but it felt too good to pull away.

“Thank you for, you know… the other night. It meant a lot, and I’m sorry for all the craziness it caused for you.”

“I don’t mind. I enjoyed getting to be your knight in shining armor. Besides, I can handle a little crazy.” He gave me a flirty wink and wicked smile, igniting a fire that moved through my body. And like some kind of mind reader, he leaned in to whisper, “For you, I’d do it all over again and then some.”

He pulled back. A knowing smirk played on his lips as he watched my face heat from fair pink to a deep red. His warmth and scent were something I knew could be dangerous, and I couldn’t help but bask in them a little while longer.

A shiver ran down my back, and a small moan may have even escaped.

Who really knows what the hell my body was doing at that point?

“I should probably go before Coach comes looking for me. Are you guys going to the high school tomorrow?”

“High school?” I asked, and he leaned to see around me.

“Seriously, Jeff.”

“The fuck did I do?” my mentor said from some behind us.

“The high school visit before practice. We’ve only done it every year for the last decade.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll be there. Don’t get your britches in a bunch, bud.”

Ignoring the sass flowing from Jeffrey, he returned his focus to me. “You’ll be there?”

I nodded; my brain just drunk enough off Mateo to forget twenty-five years of vocabulary.

“Good. I’ll see you then.” His voice grew heavier. Filled with something more, something provocative, something I knew I mistook as desire. “Have a good rest of your day, Jameson.” He gave me a slow, tantalizing smile before turning and jogging in the direction of the locker room.

With a shake of my head, I turned to see Kyle’s hands balled into fists, and his small eyes full of rage. The high Mateo provided vanished. He glared at me the entire time it took me to walk back to him and Jeffrey.

“Damn, Flynn.” Jeffrey started slow clapping and broke Kyle’s hate-fueled focus. “Good thing we’re the only ones here. Someone’s little secret would’ve been the feature story of every, and I meanevery, news station.”

“What secret?” Kyle asked through clenched teeth.

“Nothing.” I shot Jeffrey a pleading glance, hoping he’d play along.

Ignoring me, he laughed. “What, Marks? You haven’t heard about the NFL superstar that swooped in to save the woman in a bar only for her to ghost him, leaving him heartbroken?” Kyle looked from me to Jeffrey. His expression bouncing between disbelief, shock, and anger.

“Please, like anyone would believe I’m the woman Mateo is pining for.”

“So, you admit he’s pining?Interesting. I mean, that conversation looked pretty steamy, so maybe you’re not wrong.“ Jeffrey shrugged, giving Kyle’s shoulder a quick pat as we left the practice facility.

“Goodmorning,”Iyawned,looking to the field filled with teenage footballers following along as the Bandits went through warm-ups.

“Hey,” Kyle mumbled. Clearly offended by my freshly showered scent or just my general presence, he moved to the furthest side of the field he could get to with the sideline covered in parents, cameras and reporters.

“Flynn,” Jeffrey greeted through an accusatory glare. “And to think, I was almost able to skip this.But no! Your boy just needed you to watch him wrangle a shit ton of teenagers at the ass-crack of dawn.“ He made a show of finishing his coffee and crushing the cardboard cup in his fist.

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