Blitzed (The Alpha Ballers #3)

by Lucy Snow

  Mack chuckled. “No, I don’t think he’ll find out after all.”

  I put my hand on her knee, softly. “You’re sure you’re OK? I don’t know what to do in a situation like this.”

  “Yes, Hudson, I’m fine, thank you for asking.” She closed her eyes. “Can we change the subject?”

  “We sure can.” All I knew about was football, and for some reason I didn’t want to talk about that just now. “How’s your father been, these last few weeks?”

  The look of gratitude on Mack’s face at the change was visible. “He’s alright, you know how it is, you lose someone and you take it hard.”

  “Yeah. We haven’t seen him around the facility in weeks.”

  Mack smiled sadly. “Yeah, he’s been mostly holed up in his house, mostly in the library. He really misses her.”

  “I can imagine. They were together…30 years?”

  “35 years, yeah.”

  “That’s a long time.”

  “My father would say it wasn’t long enough by half. And as he’s said before, he’d give a billion dollars to have one more hour with her.”

  And John Mayfield could easily afford that billion dollars. “It must be hard for you, too, Mack, losing your mother like that.”

  Despite the subject matter, Mack’s face was all strength. “Yeah, it’s been tough,” she whispered, “but I get through the days. Work helps.”

  “Yeah, when my father passed away a few years back I threw myself into the season and didn’t think about anything but football till it was over.”

  “I remember that year,” Mack said. “You made the All Star game.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I did.” It had been one of the highlights of my career, and though it had been borne of such sadness, I was incredibly proud of it.

  “My father was so happy when that happened. He always loved having you on the team.”

  That warmed my heart. John Mayfield had always been a quiet man and often it had been tough to know how he felt about a certain player. Only in the last couple years had I realized that the only reason I had managed to stay a Patriot my entire career was because John had appreciated my performance and everything else along with it.

  “He took a chance on me, a long time ago, and I’ve never been able to thank him enough for that.” I said, my voice losing stability as I tried to get the words out.

  Now it was Mack’s turn to put her hand on my knee. “It’s OK, Hudson.” She smiled. “He knows.”

  I covered her hand in mine. “You wanna go back out there?”

  Mack sat straight up. “Yeah, that sounds good. But not back to the party.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, I’ve had enough of that for one night.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Then…?”

  “Can you take me home?”

  “I can do that.” I took her hand and we both stood up. Mack was a little unsteady - the alcohol was still hitting her. “My place is close by, you can sleep it off there, sound good?”

  “Yes.” Mack said, then thought more about it. She smiled wide. “Yes, that sounds like a great idea.”

  Ooof, now I was in trouble. A happily tipsy, beautiful woman that I worked with, and in a way, for, and she was dressed to the nines and coming to my place.

  “One thing, Hudson.”

  “Yes?”

  “Can we leave by the side exit? I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

  “Sure thing, Mack, no problem.”

  “Then lead on,” she said, her eyes closed as she found her balance.

  I started walking, in the opposite direction from where we came, guessing there was an exit we could use. When we passed the room where the confrontation with Steve had occurred, I gripped Mack’s hand a little tighter, and I smiled when she squeezed back.

  The room was empty - Steve had apparently listened to my advice to escape while he still could.

  After a couple minutes we found an exit that wouldn’t set off the fire alarm, and we went outside. Mack shivered as the cold air hit her. I looked back and raised an eyebrow at her.

  “I didn’t bring a coat, tonight,” she said after a few seconds. “I didn’t think I’d be outside very much.”

  I nodded. “I’m glad I live close by, then.”

  “Huh?”

  I pulled her in close to me, and I felt Mack relax against me, feeling the warmth. We moved through the parking lot till we got to my ride.

  “You brought the motorcycle?” Mack asked, throwing me an incredulous look that made my cock stir. She was so fucking sexy, I could barely stand having her this close to me without doing something about it.

  Of course, I knew I couldn’t do anything. Not when she was tipsy like this, and not after what she’d gone through earlier with Steve.

  I laughed. “I only have motorcycles.”

  Mack let go of my hand and crossed her arms under her breasts, making me draw a breath in. She looked at the bike skeptically, almost as if she expected it to transform into a sedan right there if she concentrated hard enough.

  I laughed again. “It’s still a motorcycle, Mack. Not gonna become anything else.”

  She looked at me. “Is there another helmet?”

  I shook my head. “Nope, but you can wear mine.”

  She furrowed her brow. “It’s gonna mess up my hair.”

  “You got another party to go to tonight?”

  She smiled, punching me in the shoulder, a little off base. “No. OK, fine. How do I do this?”

  “You’ve never ridden a motorcycle before?”

  She closed her eyes and stood up straight. “Ahem, Hudson Asher, does it look like I have ever ridden a motorcycle before?”

  If that wasn’t an excuse to look her up and down I didn’t know what was, and I took it with no shame. Fuck, Mack was hot. I couldn’t get past her curves, how they called to me.

  And maybe, just maybe, both of us working for the same organization made it a little extra hot.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Good point. Alright, I’ll be gentle with you.”

  Mack’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a good idea.”

  I picked up the helmet and handed it to her while I got on the bike, making some adjustments and checking the fuel before turning it on. The roar of the engine washed over me, and I loved feeling the power underneath me. There was nothing like riding a motorcycle.

  I glanced at Mack and saw that she was still holding the helmet and staring at it like she’d never seen one before. “Come here, Mack,” I said, just over the sound of the engine.

  She came closer, and I took the helmet from her and gently put it over her head. “It goes on like this.” I secured the straps and looked at her. “You OK in there?”

  Mack nodded vigorously. I laughed and lowered the visor on her.

  In such a short dress like that, Mack would be really cold on the way home, and the wind was starting to pick up. You had to love these cold New England winter nights - I couldn’t believe she hadn’t brought a coat.

  I knew what I had to do. I took off my suit jacket and walked behind Mack, propping the bike up first, sliding the coat up her arms. I tried not to shiver, but this ride was gonna be cold.

  Then I got back on the bike, a little further back in the seat and motioned for her to climb onto the bike in front of me. This way she’d be a little warmer on the trip. Mack climbed on, straddling the bike, lowering herself tentatively till she sat on it. She faced me and threw one arm around my shoulder and the other around my waist, pulling herself into me for warmth, the jacket on her back protecting her from oncoming wind.

  We took off into the night, roaring out of the parking lot. I knew I couldn’t go as fast as I wanted to, both because Mack was inexperienced and because I didn’t have a helmet on. If I went and got hurt just before the playoffs started, Coach Armstrong would flay me alive.

  The trip back to my place took only 15 minutes; Mack clung to me tighter around the curves, and whenever she looked up at me, ev
en though I couldn’t see her face through the dark visor, I smiled, hoping to reassure her. She had been through something traumatic tonight, and I needed her to know I would keep her safe.

  When we pulled into my apartment complex, I rolled right into my spot and we got off. When I took the helmet off Mack’s head, and her mass of dark brown hair fell out, I had to laugh.

  “What?” She said. “My hair?” She started playing with it. “This is all your fault.”

  I took the helmet and put it away. “Totally my fault, you’re right. Come on.”

  We went inside and up the elevator to my place. I wasn’t big on living out of my means, even though I had made a ton of money. Money was great and all, but once you had the things you needed the rest of it wasn’t good for much besides knowing you would never go hungry, I always thought.

  As my father and many others had said, ‘you can’t take it with you.’

  But I did like to have a nice, comfortable, and roomy place, even if I spent most of my time at the facility. I was one step away from Lance Parker’s living at the facility thing, though after Charlotte came into his life, that had quickly ended.

  In the elevator, Mack slumped against me, and I wrapped my arms around her. She must have been exhausted - a full day’s work, a big charity event, then the horror of an almost-assault like that.

  We got inside and I sat her down on the couch near the kitchen. Mack immediately kicked off her shoes, massaging her feet while I puttered around in the kitchen making tea.

  We didn’t speak; Mack just watched me as I went around doing my thing. It almost got awkward for a second there, but then just as quickly, the tension faded, and I felt comfortable again. That was different than with every other woman.

  Unlike the others who had come over, Mack didn’t seem intimidated by me. That was more than a little intriguing.

  I came back into the living room and handed Mack a cup of tea. She took it and despite how hot it was, she downed it in under a minute, then stretched out on the couch. I sat in a chair opposite her and watched as she lounged about, getting comfortable.

  “You’re not sleeping here,” I said, sipping my tea.

  “Huh?” Mack asked, groggily. “But my car’s back at the party.”

  I looked over the top of my cup. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “Here, I’ll help.” I stood up, setting my cup down on the table, and after taking a step, I easily picked Mack up off the couch, cradling her in my arms.

  Almost automatically Mack wrapped her arms around my neck for stability, but she also pressed her face into my chest. “Oh, Hud…” she whispered sleepily.

  I slowly walked to the bedroom, and in the dark, I pulled the covers aside and lay her down. She was already half asleep by the time I rolled the covers back up over her, and as soon as I was done, she gently rolled to her side. “Oh, Hud, kiss…” she said, trailing off as sleep overtook her.

  I took off my shirt and pants, got a blanket from the closet, and headed out to the couch.

  What a night.

  CHAPTER 05 - MACKENZIE

  The light pouring in from the windows gently told me it was time to wake up, despite my best attempts at protest. Before I opened my eyes, though, I rolled around in bed a little longer, dragging the blankets along with me, creating a cocoon of safety and warmth that I wanted to carry around me forever.

  As my other senses woke up, the last thought I had before I opened my eyes was that wearing blankets in public needed to become the next big thing in fashion. Maybe I should start a trend.

  When I finally opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the unfamiliar ceiling. This was not my bed, which I should have realized, because these were definitely not my blankets. And the light coming into the room was different.

  I sat up in bed, slowly, letting the covers fall off me. I looked around, saw the trophies and football photos. It was like being in a high school boy’s room, except the kid in some of the photos was also in his mid-20’s in other photos.

  And they were all Hudson Asher.

  That’s where I was. I was in Hudson Asher’s bedroom.

  Shit. SHIT.

  Last night came flooding back to me, and I didn’t know what to do. What had I done?

  I looked down, relieved that my dress was still on, though not in the best shape - dresses like these were not meant for sleeping in. Still, it was better on than off.

  On any other night, though…if I were in Hudson Asher’s bed, I wouldn’t want to keep my dress on…

  I looked to the other side of the bed. I’d been hogging the blankets all night, but it didn’t look like it had mattered - there was no sign of Hudson anywhere. I wondered where he had slept. I thought about calling out to him, but as I started to, my breath caught in my throat and nothing came out.

  The party, seeing Hudson there. Steve getting too handsy too quickly. Hudson saving me, talking to me, and taking me home. All of it came back.

  I didn’t quite remember what we had talked about, but Hudson was there in my memories, towering over me and looking out for me. I felt a rush of gratitude for him wash over me.

  And that ride home, on his motorcycle! Even despite my slight intoxication, that had been thrilling. And not just because of the bike itself, and the wind racing by as we rode down the dark streets near Foxboro; mostly because it gave me the opportunity to press myself up against Hudson’s amazing body.

  It had felt perfect to me, comfortable and right and safe and smoldering at the same time. I had never experienced anything like that with a man before; I didn’t even know what to do next.

  When he took the helmet off my head, I wanted nothing more than to jump into his arms and kiss him. With the help of the alcohol, I almost had, but managed to stop myself just in time, though I wasn’t quite sure why.

  And when he carried me to bed? Ugh, that was the hottest thing ever, straight out of a movie. I had wanted to invite him in with me, but I knew that might get awkward, and I had been so tired…

  But last night in Hudson’s bed had done me a world of good, and despite how much I had had last night I didn’t feel too hungover. I got up out of bed, a little bit unsteady on my feet at first, walking around the room and looking at the photos of Hudson through the years, wearing football gear in each of them.

  The smile on his face in each photo was the same - the kind of smile that pulled his entire face into it, the rare kind of smile that showed true happiness. It was clear from these photos that football was what Hudson Asher was meant to do.

  I ran my fingers lightly over the trophies, each of them calling out some other amazing stat or season that he’d had. Some people might throw these away after a few years, or pack them up, but Hudson clearly enjoyed going through them and reliving those memories.

  I went to the bathroom, checking myself out in the mirror. I looked much like I had expected to after crying a little bit and falling asleep without getting rid of my makeup.