I’ve always been a good girl. I was never really wild in high school. I had a few boyfriends before Brett, but I never took things to that level. Brett and I started dating our junior year of high school, and by our senior year, we’d done the deed. After our breakup, I’ll admit, for the first time in my twenty seven years on this planet, I did go a bit wild. And by wild, I mean, I had a single one night stand with a guy whose name I couldn’t remember, which is why I saved him into my phone as booty call.
I’ve slept with the guy a few times after the one nighter, but it’s not like I’m calling him every single night, as Adrian had originally implied. So, for him to imply that I’m some horn dog who can’t go a month without sex, well, he’s wrong. Which is why I don’t even know why I’m stressing out about that one detail of this agreement.
I shove thoughts of sex with Adrian out of my mind and return to my lazy Sunday. I have no intention of moving off of the couch today, and judging by the condition Sophia is in, I doubt she’s planning on moving either. But then, I hear a knock on my front door, which completely interrupts my lounging, because I’m forced to move from the couch in order to answer the door. In no way am I prepared for what I see standing on the other side.
“What are you doing here?” I blink a few times, staring at Adrian, who is standing on my front porch, looking way too fine for his own damn good. He flashes me one of his killer smiles, the kind with dimples and all, before handing me a brown paper bag and winking. My heart does a stupid leap in my chest, but I try to look unimpressed.
“Not much, beautiful. Just stopping by to give my amazing girlfriend a gift.” I’m still standing in the doorway, staring at him, when he finally glances over my shoulder.
“So, are you going to let me in, or what?”
As I move to the side, he steps into the house, and as he does, his body brushes against mine, causing an unwelcome shiver to run down my spine.
“Oh, my God.” Sophia sits upright on the couch, glaring at me. “Seriously, Mia? You couldn’t warn me that your super-hot, pretend boyfriend was coming over? I’m still wearing last night’s make up!”
Sophia starts to stand, but Adrian just waves his hand at her. “No, no. Please don’t get up on my account. I just came by to drop off tickets to tonight’s game and my jersey for my one and only to wear.”
I snort.
“No offense, but I have no intention of setting foot back inside of that stadium.” I try to hand him back the bag, but he just crosses his arms at me instead. “I’m not trying to have a repeat performance of the last time that I was there. Jail and I don’t exactly mix.”
“Oh, you’re coming to my game, baby.” He smirks. “You can’t be the girlfriend of someone like me and not show up to my game with my name plastered across your back.” His attention turns to Sophia, and his smile widens. “I’m Adrian, by the way. I’m Mia’s new boyfriend.”
“Pretend boyfriend.” I correct him, as Sophia takes his outstretched hand and shakes it, blushing furiously as she does.
“I’m Sophia.” Her voice sounds so weird that I can’t help but laugh. “And I’m currently taken, but if you have a twin brother or something, I could be single really quick.”
Adrian chuckles.
“Sorry, doll. I don’t. I’ve got a sister, but she’s already taken.” Good God, he’s downright irresistible when he smiles like that, with his dimples and all. I cross my arms across my chest, trying to cover up my braless nipples that are now standing at attention from Adrian’s hotness. His eyes are on me though, and as if he reads my mind, his eyes zero in on my chest. They flash, and then they darken. He leans in towards me, his breath against the tender skin of my neck sending a shiver down my spine.
“It’s almost a crime to cover those beauties up, babe.” His hands reach up, wrapping around my wrists and pulling them down at my sides. He stares down at me, and then shakes his head once. “So, fucking beautiful.”
“You don’t have to pretend in front of her.” My voice sounds strange. It’s high pitched and shrieking, as unwelcome desire floods my veins, pooling in a place that has no business thinking about Adrian. “She knows what we are.”
“Oh, I’m not pretending.” His cocky grin is back. “You have an excellent set of tits, Mia. You shouldn’t cover those up.”
Sophia sucks in air, her eyes darting between the two of us, but Adrian seems to be thriving in the uncomfortable situation. He just flashes me a lopsided smirk, before setting down the brown paper bag on my entry way table.
“There’s an extra ticket in the bag.” Adrian jerks his head towards Sophia. “You’re welcome to bring your friend. My jersey is in the bag too. I expect my name to be plastered across your body, babe.” He moves towards the door, but right before he steps through it, he glances over his shoulder, his cocky grin still plastered across his face.
“Don’t wear a bra tonight, Mia. I want to imagine your nipples rubbing along my jersey all night long.”
By the time that the door shuts, I’m panting. I’m flushed. And basically, I’m a hot mess of want for this man.
God damn him.
Sophia sucks in air and turns to me with wide eyes.
“Girl.” She blinks. “You are so fucked.”
Yes. Yes indeed.
I am so fucked. And I think the idea of not fucking Adrian has now completely flown out of the window.
11
Adrian
There’s something about playing under the lights, that always brings me back. I remember being a freshman in high school, not able to wait until I was on the varsity team and getting to step out onto that field just as the lights kicked on.
It was my kryptonite back then, and it sure as hell still is. So, as I step out onto the turf, staring up into the lights, all of the other thoughts running through my mind click off, and I immediately focus on the game at hand.
“That arm ready?” Wyatt lifts his chin at me as we get into formation. I just smirk in response.
“’Course it is.” I smack it with my hand. “This thing is always ready to throw rockets.”
“Hell yes.” I hear muttered from a few guys on the O line. “We’re about to fuck the Bandits up.”
Gage, my center gets into position, and as soon as the whistle blows, he snaps the ball to me, and I begin to make my run. I watch Wyatt get open and begin to make his dash up the field. And then, as I always do, I ask Kat to guide my throw. Except this time, instead of her face flashing through my mind, I see Mia’s. And it startles me so much, that I lose focus on Wyatt. The ball flies from my hand, only milliseconds before three hundred pounds of a defensive lineman flies into me, knocking me onto the ground.
The ball sails over Wyatt’s head and out of bounds.
For a few seconds, I sit on the ground, completely stunned by what just happened.
For the last eleven years, I’ve only seen one face in my mind. One single face, before my hand releases that ball.
How in the fuck could Mia’s face take over my mind that quickly? Kat was the real deal for me. Mia’s just some…some what? I don’t even have words to describe her. But I know that she isn’t even on the same level as Kat. No one ever could be.
So, what in the fuck is going on?
My guys pull me to my feet, but I’m still stunned once I’m standing. I shake my head quickly and set up another play. I force the image of Mia out of my head and try to focus on the game.
Every inch of my body aches as I slink off of the field. My O line does a damn good job of protecting me, but once the Bandits got the high of tackling me right in the first quarter, they smelled blood and circled me like Jaws. I took more hits tonight than I have at any of our last games combined, and I’m already feeling the pain. Tomorrow’s going to be a real bitch.
The rest of my team is smacking me on the shoulder. Wyatt’s already told me good game, even though we both know this was far from my best. And while we still came out with the win, it wasn’t because of any great moves
on my part. He carried the weight tonight. I just did my best to hang in.
Kat’s face returned to me, and my throws for the rest of the night were on point. But still- the eerie feeling from earlier is still settled into my stomach, and I don’t like it one bit. Maybe it’s crazy, to be my age and to still be superstitious, but ever since the day Kat died, I’ve pulled my arm back, and had a vision of her in my mind as my hand released the ball. She’s the reason that I am where I am today, and it irks me more than a little that my mojo might be forever messed up.
It’s really no different than some of the guys not washing their gloves. Superstitions are a bitch, but almost every professional athlete has them.
I take a quick shower in the locker room, and then get myself dressed and head towards the door. I’m caught more than a little off guard when I climb the steps out of the tunnel, and see Mia standing there, at the top of the steps, looking hella uncomfortable. The second that her eyes meet mine, she relaxes. I, on the other hand, can’t help but notice just how fucking good my jersey looks on her, and more than just me is noticing.
“Damn, homey.” Wyatt mumbles, as he studies Mia. “No wonder your head wasn’t in the game tonight.”
He has no idea.
“I wasn’t going to ask, but now I guess I don’t need to. Congrats, brother. I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.”
He doesn’t seem to recognize Mia from the very first time that we all met her. But of course, she didn’t spend much time on the field that first day. Security had whisked her off pretty quickly. Plus, today she has a baseball hat pulled onto her head, with her hair hanging in a side braid that hangs low on her chest. Her bright green eyes shine underneath the bill of her hat, and as my eyes move down to the rest of her, I notice how the jersey hugs her breasts. Well, fuck. How could I not notice that?
Memories of earlier today flood my mind, and my primal need takes over. I remember the way that her breasts looked this morning, barely hidden underneath her light T-shirt, literally begging for me to touch them. Of course, I refrained, but only because she had company. Had she been by herself, I might not have been able to stop myself.
As Wyatt walks away, my eyes lock with Mia’s, and I approach her slowly, appreciating the way that she squirms, the closer that I get to her.
“My jersey looks good on you.” I tell her, stopping so close to her, that our skin brushes. Her breath catches, and she takes a step back, running right into the wall.
“Personal space, Malone.” She turns her eyes away from mine. “You need to learn about it. You should read up on it.”
“I’m not really a personal space kind of guy.” I smirk. “Especially not when it comes to the ladies.”
Mia rolls her eyes, which honestly, is one of my favorite things about her. She doesn’t melt at my words like most women do. In fact, she calls me right out on my bullshit, and is annoyed by my lines. It’s different than what I’m used to, and I kind of like it.
“So, I’ve got to ask. Are you braless, Mia Jacobsen? Are those baby’s free underneath my name?”
“No.” She huffs. “I would not be out in public without a bra on. And you’re talking awfully dirty to me today, Malone. Dirty talk is only for guys who play well. You, my friend, are not in that club today.”
From anyone else, I’d be offended. But from Mia, I’m not. I like that she tells it like it is.
“I thought that you didn’t know much about football.” I blink down at her, and she just shrugs.
“I don’t need to know much to know that you played like shit. Today wasn’t your game, so that means, you can’t spit game at me. Game isn’t your strong suit today.”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. I’m just about to toss a witty comment her way, when my name is called, and my attention shifts. The same blond reporter who I used to spend time with is charging our way. Instinctively I wrap my arm around Mia’s waist, pulling her tightly against me. Her perfume washes over me, and that mixed with the softness of her skin makes my dick begin to spring into action. The last thing that I need is to have a boner shot circling the media, so I turn my body into Mia’s. The second that she feels it pressed against her, her eyes widen.
“Are you serious right now?” She blinks up at me, but luckily, shifts her attention when the reporter stops in front of us.
“I heard a rumor that you had a girlfriend now.” She purrs at me, barely making any eye contact with Mia. “Usually, I don’t believe rumors, but I guess this time, the rumors are true.”
“Yeah.” It’s all that really needs to be said. But Tracy isn’t going to let this go lightly. Last week, I turned her down, and she is a woman who is used to getting what she wants. Right now, she wants to make me squirm.
“Seems awful serious.” She flutters her fake eyelashes at me, and then turns her gaze towards Mia. Her nose wrinkles slightly, and she shrugs.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a guy to fall for a fire crotch, yet, here we are.”
I feel Mia tense underneath me, and the uncomfortable feeling inside of me transforms into full blown anger.
“Tracy.” I start, but Mia interrupts.
“Fire crotch.” She chuckles. “That’s cute. I’m not a natural red head, Tracy. I’m a natural blond. Bet you can’t relate.” Tracy’s eyes darken, and she frowns.
“But yes, you’re right. Adrian does prefer what’s between my legs to what’s between yours. Now, if you need a picture of us, I’d be happy to put my lips all over this guy so that you can get a good shot.”
Terrible timing, Mia. Terrible fucking timing. My dick is now so hard in my pants at the thought of her lips all over me, that it aches. And if her lips end up on mine, I’m pretty sure I’m going to blow.
Wouldn’t that be a great fucking shot?
“Nobody wants to see a picture of that. Not after the way that he played today.” Tracy tosses her hair over her shoulder and then turns on one heel, stomping across the field. Once she’s out of sight, Mia pushes me away, and then glares down at my dick.
“Seriously?” She throws her hands up. “Thanks for pressing Mount fucking Everest into my stomach, Adrian. Next time, get a handle on yourself.”
“I’m sorry.” I actually am. Being a guy can really suck sometimes. An unwanted boner at the wrong time can kill an entire moment. Point literally just proven.
“It has a mind of its own.”
“Is that why you fucked her?” Her thumb jerks to where Tracy just disappeared. “Because she seems terrible.”
“Honestly, yes. I regretted that one instantly.”
She studies me, her eyes moving down my body. My very aching, beaten to shit body that is. Every inch of me still aches from getting hammered by lineman on the field, and as if she reads my mind and feels my pain, she winces.
“Are you ok?” Her voice is low as she leans in towards me, the sweet scent of her circling me in. Her hand rests lightly on my arm, and her eyes lock on mine, daring to call me out on my bullshit if I lie to her. The man in me wants to tell her that I’m fine, and that I’m not hurting whatsoever. But even as little as I know Mia, I know that she’ll see right through my bullshit. There is no sense in lying to her about it.
“I’m hurting.” I try to shrug it off. “But I’ll be fine after some Motrin and an ice bath. A couple of beers after that, and I’ll be good as new.”
“And you accused me of being the one with a drinking problem.” She jokes, falling into step along side of me. “I don’t ever drink on Sundays. It’s the lord’s day.”
For the first time since stepping off of the field, I smile, the stress of the game suddenly lifted off of my shoulders.
“Oh yeah? I didn’t have you pegged for the church going type.”
“I’m complex.” Her smile widens, showing off her perfect white teeth and single dimple. “I’m like an onion. I have a lot of layers.”
“And one of those layers is that of a holy roller? I’m impressed.”
“You should
be.” She nudges me slightly with her shoulder. “I’ve worked really hard to be this awesome.”
The stadium is basically empty at this point. The only people around are the cleaning crews, and the vendors who are still packing up. The fans have already since left, and since I was the last one next to Wyatt out of the locker room, my team has dispersed as well. I pause at the gate that leads out to my car, staring at Mia.
“Where are you parked?”
She jerks her thumb to the opposite side of the stadium. “In the lot off of Bridge street. I’m parked with the rest of the peasants.”
I roll my eyes.
“C’mon. I’m parked in here. I’ll drive you over to your car.”
She starts to hesitate, but I’m not giving in that easy. No woman of mine, pretend or not, is going to walk a mile at nighttime all by herself. Not if I have anything to say about it, at least.
“I’m really fine to walk. I’ve got mace in my purse.”
“You’re not walking.” I cross my arms. “I’m bringing you to your car, and that’s that.”
She gives me a huff and another eyeroll, but finally, agrees to just let me drive her. We make it to my car in just a few steps, but once she’s buckled in safely, her head snaps in my direction, and her gaze levels with mine.
“Fair warning, I really don’t like being bossed around, Adrian. I let you do it tonight because you look exhausted and I could tell we would have argued about it for a while. But for future reference, I would have been fine to walk to my car, and you are not the boss of me.”
“I know I’m not the boss of you.” I crank over the engine and then pull out of the lot. “But no girlfriend of mine is walking alone in the dark. And that’s not up for debate.”
Silence.
“And, how firm are you on that no drinking on Sundays thing? Because if you wanted to, you could come over. We could get some food, and maybe have a few drinks. I’ve been craving Giodanni’s pizza since I woke up this morning. We could get to know each other a little bit better.” To be honest, I really just don’t feel like going home to my big, empty house all alone tonight. Especially not after losing my vision of Kat earlier. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so set on spending time with the woman whose face replaced hers. But Mia makes me smile and having her around will take my mind off how much I’m hurting. That’s not a bad thing, right?
Rule Play (Saints of Love Book 1) Page 8
