Dude, my mom is scary intimidating. Austin must think so too because he just says, “Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll give you two a minute alone,” she says, backing away. “Just meet me at the car when you’re done.”
Mom retreats up the aisle, and I can’t help but wonder if Austin called her before or after I spilled my guts this morning. It doesn’t matter. I’m done holding on to the past. I want to move forward and focus on the future, a future I hope includes a national title, my dream job, and the cocky QB who’s stolen my heart.
It’s a tall order, but I’m a modern woman and you know what? I’m starting to think I really can have it all.
I lace my arms around Austin’s neck and pull him in close, inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne as he slips his arms around my waist. His hands rest just above my ass, and I’m pretty sure he’s teasing me on purpose, but I don’t mind because I know he’ll make good on his promise later. When he lowers his mouth to mine, the kiss is slow, sultry, and anything but chaste. It’s the kind of slow burn that could incinerate my panties—if I were wearing any—and I know without a doubt I’ve met my match. After all, if we can get through senior year, we can get through anything.
Epilogue
Austin
It’s draft day and I’m nervous as hell. All my life I’ve dreamed of hearing my name called and walking up on that stage to shake hands with the commissioner. I’ve imagined a lot of different teams over the years and a lot of different picks, but it doesn’t matter if I go number one or number ten, it’s a huge honor to be here.
Oh, who am I kidding? My ego totally wants to be drafted first overall. My heart wants to go number three.
My leg’s going a mile a minute under the table and it’s all I can do to keep a smile on my face. I’ve seen enough draft days to know there are cameras everywhere. Appearances and all that. My suit is custom-made, but that doesn’t make it any more comfortable. And my tie is so tight I can’t fucking breathe.
That’d be my luck. I’ll pass out before they even call my name.
Kennedy reaches over and takes my hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. She always looks great but today she’s wearing a sexy ivory dress that showcases her gorgeous legs. It looks like heaven against her sun-kissed skin. The damn thing is the definition of temptation. I kind of want to sling her over my shoulder and find an empty closet. Not a bad idea, actually. I’d much rather pass the time worshipping my woman than sitting here like a caged monkey.
“Almost showtime,” my father says, pride shining in his eyes. “I remember my draft day. Man, every minute felt like an hour.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
My old man snorts. “I don’t want to hear it. In my day we didn’t get to enjoy spring break in Cabo before the draft. You should be plenty relaxed.”
If he only knew. Kennedy and I spent most of the trip naked.
She must be thinking the same thing because there’s a flush in her cheeks. From embarrassment or arousal, I can’t tell. Then her foot finds mine under the table, and I’m certain it’s the latter.
God, I love this woman. The last five months have been incredible and if I have my way, it’s just the beginning. We haven’t talked much about what we’re going to do after graduation in May. There’s too much uncertainty for both of us. I have a decent idea of my top draft prospects, but there wasn’t much point making plans until we know for certain. Kennedy’s had a number of interviews, including a second interview with Gamut last week, but she’s still waiting to hear back.
“Here we go,” Dad says. We all sit up straighter and turn our attention to the screen where the NFL commissioner has taken the stage. I barely hear a word he says before the clock starts running on Cleveland. They’ve got a decent QB, but you never know what might happen in the draft. After weeks of mock drafts and pre-draft visits, I’m as uncertain as ever. This moment is the culmination of my life’s work. All the practices, the bowl games, the championship run. It’s all brought me here, to this moment.
Now it’s up to the football gods to decide where I go next.
My father’s been true to his word, remaining hands-off in the pre-draft maneuvering. In the months since my eligibility expired, I’ve visited Cleveland, New York, and Chicago, all teams with early draft picks. Any one of them could call my name. And I haven’t counted Pittsburgh out. They could be trading picks even now. But no matter which team calls my number, I know it’ll be okay because I’ve got all the love and support I need right here at this table.
It doesn’t take Cleveland long to decide and relief surges through me when they select a running back from USC.
Then New York is on the clock. I grip Kennedy’s hand so tight her eyes go wide and she lets out a tiny squeak. “Sorry.”
I try to pull my hand away, but she holds on. I appreciate that she doesn’t tell me to relax or have faith or trust the process. It’s impossible at this point. My old man wasn’t kidding. The process is brutal. Every second feels like a minute. Every minute like an hour.
My father eyes the phone on the table. “Quiet phone’s a good sign. They usually call before officially announcing the pick,” he explains to Kennedy. “But not always.”
Not always.
The commissioner leans toward the mic. My heart’s thundering so loud I barely hear the words coming out of his mouth. “With the second pick of this year’s NFL Draft, New York selects D’Andre Wilson, University of Georgia.”
My dad claps me on the back, and Kennedy’s smile is so wide I can see all her teeth. To the casual observer, it probably looks like they’re trying to keep my spirits up. After all, most people expected me to be the number one pick. But this scenario might work out even better.
Sweat trickles down the back of my neck. Chicago’s on the clock. Like my dad, my eyes are glued to the phone on the table. I silently will it to ring. Each passing second feels like an eternity and when the commissioner returns to the mic, my confidence falters.
“With the third pick of this year’s NFL Draft, Chicago selects Austin Reid, Quarterback, Waverly University.”
I fly out of my chair, forgetting to maintain decorum, and sling my arms around my father. “Congratulations, son. I’m proud of you and I know your mother would be too.”
Pride surges in my chest because I know he means every word. “Thanks, Dad.”
When I turn to Kennedy, I figure the hell with decorum and kiss her on the lips. The little vixen slips me the tongue. Oh yeah, she’s definitely turned on. I hold her tight and whisper, “I love you.”
“I love you too, babe. I’m so proud of you for staying true to yourself. Now get on up there and get your jersey.” When I turn to go, she slaps me on the ass for good measure.
I can’t believe I’m going to Chicago. It’s a dream come true. One of the attendants hands me a Chicago hat. I pull it on as I climb the steps to the stage. The lights are bright and the bill does little to cut down the blinding glare, but nothing can bring me down right now. I stride toward the commissioner as he extends his hand to me. I give it a few good pumps, and we pose for pictures with my new Chicago jersey.
Lucky number seven.
But is it lucky enough convince Kennedy to come to Chicago with me?
Kennedy
My feet are screaming for relief so I kick off my heels the moment we’re alone in the hotel room. I knew there would be lots of celebrating after the draft, but I didn’t realize quite how intense it would be. I guess I’ll have to get used to schmoozing, erm, socializing, but if it’s the price I have to pay for loving Austin, so be it.
It doesn’t hurt that he looks like a wet dream in his crisp black suit.
He flips on the bedside lamp and strips off his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. The suite is a little extravagant for my taste, but I’m slowly getting used to Austin’s world. Plus, even I have to admit the soaking tub is divine.
Someday I’m going to have one just like it.
Austin sinks d
own on the edge of the bed, and I wedge myself between his thighs. It’s been a long night. He looks exhausted, but in the best possible way. “How’re you feeling?” I ask.
“Like everything I ever wanted might finally be within reach.” He slips a hand under my skirt, the rough pads of his fingers skating up my outer thigh. His touch is featherlight, sending a shiver down my spine. I close my eyes and tip my head back, savoring the feel of his hands on my bare flesh. He has the best hands. I could never tire of them, not when every touch feels like the first.
When I open my eyes, he’s staring up at me, a self-satisfied smile on his face.
“You deserve it.” I stroke his cheek, my fingers scraping over the fine stubble that’s begun to show. “Which is why I’ve got one more signing bonus for you.”
“A signing bonus?” Desire flares in his eyes, and my ovaries stand at attention. “Hell, yeah. I’ve been dying to rip this dress off you all night. It’s driving me fucking crazy.”
“I’m flattered, but that’s not exactly what I had in mind.” I laugh and push him back on the bed. He doesn’t stay down long and props himself up on his elbows.
“So, we’re not talking about sex then?” he asks, flashing his dimple.
“Keep your pants on—for now. I’ve got something even better lined up.”
He doesn’t bother to hide his skepticism. “What could possibly be better than sex?”
“You’ll see.” I grab my bag off the desk and pull out the offer letter from Gamut. It came in a few days ago, but I didn’t want to say anything until all the details were ironed out. I climb into bed with him and hand him the first page of the offer.
He scans the letter twice and then turns to me, confusion in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you got a job offer? This is great news. We should celebrate.”
The man was just selected number three in the NFL draft. He’ll probably make more money on his first contract than I’ll make in a lifetime, and he thinks we should celebrate my job offer? I lean down and kiss him, slow and soft. When he slips his hand under my skirt, I sit up. “Wait, there’s more. I didn’t even tell you the best part. I’ll be working in Chicago, so we can be together after graduation.”
It’s a full ten seconds before he reacts—I totally counted—but when he does, his smile his the brightest I’ve ever seen. And it’s all for me.
“You’re right,” he says, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “This is way better because it means I can have sex with you every day.”
“Wow. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re just using me for my body.” I climb atop him, straddling his hips as he considers.
He pushes up the hem of my skirt, but his gaze stays fixed on mine. “Then I’ll have to do a better job of showing you how much I love you. I was going to ask you to come with me, but I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.” He pauses. “You’re sure this is what you want?”
Is he kidding? Of course it’s what I want. These last months together have been the best of my life. I can’t imagine my life after college not including Austin. He’s become as essential to me as air. “Yes. I’ll get to work on clean energy systems. It’s a win-win for me. I get my dream job and my dream man.”
“But how did you know I’d end up in Chicago?”
“I didn’t. I negotiated a clause in my contract that would allow me to choose my location after the draft. They’ve got offices in New York and Chicago.” I shrug. “It was a calculated risk. And it paid off.”
He laughs and I can feel the low rumble reverberate through his chest. “Smart, gorgeous woman. I love it when you talk nerdy to me.”
“So shut up and kiss me.”
If you enjoyed Austin and Kennedy’s story, be on the lookout for Catching Quinn, coming in 2021!
www.jenniferbonds.com
About the Author
Jennifer Bonds writes sizzling contemporary romance with sassy heroines, sexy heroes, and a whole lot of mischief. She’s a sucker for enemies-to-lovers stories, laugh out loud banter, over the top grand gestures and counts herself lucky to spend her days writing swoonworthy romance thanks to the support of amazing readers like you!
Jen lives in Pennsylvania, where her overactive imagination and weakness for reality TV keep life interesting. She’s lucky enough to live with her own real life hero, two adorable (and sometimes crazy) children, and one rambunctious K9. Loves Buffy, Mexican food, a solid Netflix binge, the Winchester brothers, cupcakes, and all things zombie. Sings off-key.
To connect with Jen online, visit her at www.jenniferbonds.com to sign up for her newsletter and be the first to know about new releases, giveaways, and exclusive content! You can also find her on Facebook and Instagram @jbondswrites.
Books by Jennifer Bonds
The Risky Business Series
Once Upon a Dare
Once Upon a Power Play
Seducing the Fireman
Royally Engaged
Royal Pain
Courting Trouble (2021)
Waverly Wildcats
Holding Harper
Claiming Carter
Catching Quinn (2021)
Long Shot
Claiming Carter (Waverly Wildcats Book 1) Page 28
