Page 65 of My Secret Bandit

“Full-figured Flynn seems to be the complete opposite of Linx’s ex, social media star Stephanie Pugh, 28. Pugh, who ended things with Linx after his rookie season, let her opinions fly for all 1.2 million followers to see following photos released only an hour after today’s game ended. In a series of messages on social media, she wrote, ‘Can’t believe I dated this guy. Guess I know why it didn’t work out. He was always saying I needed to put on a few extra pounds. His loss.’ And after recently being named one of Tampa’s Most Eligible Bachelors, it baffles some that Flynn is the woman receiving Linx’s affection.

“For the first time in Mateo Linx’s five-year professional career, he required help off the field after an interception resulted in the footballer being slammed to the ground by an Atlanta receiver. Word is he’s recovering well, but we can’t help but wonder. Is this unknown girl the reason behind Linx’s unusual lack of focus on and off the field? Whatever the cause, Flynn is either a shocking change for athlete side pieces or a dirty, fetish uncovered. Which do you think it is? Leave your comments down below.”

Two pictures accompanied the article. One in the lobby this morning. The other one from the locker room after the game, when I kneeled between Mateo’s legs.

The photos seemed to display the obvious differences in our bodies. Mateo looked as long and solid as ever. His muscular structure even more defined next to my wide set—chubbier than usual—frame.

Neither man said anything while I read through the article. It wasn’t until I mindlessly started scrolling lower, toward the comments that Xander stepped forward and removed the tablet from my lap.

“I’m sorry. I—just—you don’t need to look at those.” His eyes screamed sadness and his hair became disheveled in the minutes I spent reading.

“Thank you for showing us, Xander.” My fingers fiddled together from their place in my lap. A shudder ran through me, suddenly feeling way too exposed in my thin pajama set. The need to cover myself in the baggiest clothes ever sounded like an alarm in my head.

“Baby.” Mateo moved closer to me, brushing away new tears that spilled over.

“Um… Jamie.” I looked up at Xander. “If you’re okay, I’ll leave you two to talk. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I’m okay. I’ll be fine,” I said, giving him a small smile.

And I would be fine. I was used to this. Used to people commenting about my weight and making opinions based on my physical appearance. I pulled myself back together every time. Except now, it wasn’t just me I had to worry about. My boyfriend’s public image stretched across the country.

God. The team’s publicist is going to hate me.

The smile Xander returned never came close to meeting his eyes. He slowly turned for the door and disappeared behind it.

As much as I hoped it wouldn’t, I knew this would happen. I knew every troll would leave the covering of their bridge to voice their opinions. I just thought we’d have a little more time.

“Look at me, baby. Please.”

Since I started reading the article, I hadn’t looked at Mateo. I didn’t want to see the pity sure to live in his eyes. Even worse than that, I was afraid I’d find shame. Shame for publicly being linked to me—a fat-assed nobody—when he could obviously have anyone he wanted.

“Jameson.” The sadness in his voice forced my eyes to his.

“Am I the reason you got hurt today?” I asked, cringing before I even finished the question. Eventually I’d get over being called a downgrade, fat or whatever. What I couldn’t get over was the fear that I was the reason the man I love was in pain now. That I somehow left him unprepared or distracted.

“Baby, no.” His palms cupped my jaw, his eyes soft but still piercing my soul. “That article is a load of shit. On every level. I always put everything I have into playing and that hasn’t changed. I’ve never beenmorefocused and that’s solely because of you. I’ve become addicted to that look you give me after games. The one that tells me how proud you are. How much you love me. That look means everything to me; I’d never jeopardize that by stepping onto the field unprepared.“ Skating his fingers across my cheeks, he pulled away the tears that lingered. “I promised to remind you all the time how much you meant to me. Jameson, if you asked me to choose my favorite thing about you, I couldn’t do it. Your body, your beauty, your heart, your mind. I love them all. I couldn’t choose just one and leave the others because without them I wouldn’t have you. And you’re all I want.”

My heart raced, my breathing stopped, and my body melted at his words. The weight of my worries slipped away. He absolutely could have anyone. But he wanted me. He chose me. He loved me.

My body moved on its own, straddling him. His warm hands slipped under my shirt and held onto my hips. I sank lower, widening my knees to avoid his side. Rocking my hips, his length harden against me. The desire in his gaze grew with each pass I made.

With his help, I learned to love myself too. I learned that I am beautiful. I didn’t need to hit some magic number on the scale or fit into a certain size. For the first time, I knew what it meant to be comfortable in my skin.

“Fuck that article, your petty ass ex, and all the people who think like her. Fuck being ashamed of my body anymore. Fuck everyone else because you make me feel like the strongest, most beautiful woman in the world.”

“God. I love you,” he growled.

I squealed when his grip moved to my thighs and tightened their hold, digging in. He stood, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him.

“I love you too. Please be careful.”

“Can’t make any promises.” He nuzzled his face against mine until our lips found each other. Our mouths moved together, the flavor of him overtaking my senses.

Breathless, my head went back. Mateo’s mouth burned my skin as it moved over the hollow of my neck. He carried me into the bedroom, laying me down before taking the top off the secret platter.

“Strawberries?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

“And chocolate,” he answered. “They’re your favorite, right?”