by Zoë Lane
If anything, it was riding on the owner’s shoulders.
“Thank you, ma’am. Coach,” Landyn said in acknowledgment.
“You have puke on your pants,” Rochelle observed.
I covered my mouth to hide my widening smile while Landyn looked down as though he’d forgotten it was there. “I’ll grab something from the locker room. Sorry, I know I probably stink.”
“Yes, a shower would help that a lot. Rose, good work, and I’ll be praying for your sister, Landyn,” Rochelle said.
“Thank you.”
I followed Landyn out of Rochelle’s office. As soon as the door shut behind us, I jumped into the air and Landyn caught me, whirling me around. I buried my face into his shoulder to muffle my giggles.
“I still have a job,” I whispered into his ear.
“We both do,” he whispered back. Our lips touched briefly. Landyn set me down. “The coach could walk out at any minute, and I need to take a shower. Wanna join me?”
I smirked. I wanted to say yes, but what came out of my mouth instead was, “I appreciate the offer, but I need to get home. It’s late, and I’ll likely have an early meeting with my bosses.”
Landyn stuck his bottom lip out. “Okay. But you’ll be thinking about me naked, right?” He winked.
Why, yes. Yes, I would.
EPILOGUE
ROSE
I raced down the stairs from my seat in the press box to beat Landyn into the news room. I’d arrived a few minutes before he was ushered into the room. He looked fresh, like he hadn’t just played his heart out in his first NFL start. With a cap on that proudly displayed his team’s logo, he still wore his uniform, no chance to change or get a quick shower before taking on hungry reporters who no doubt had dozens of questions to ask him.
“Landyn, how does it feel to win your first NFL start?”
“Like I was born to do this,” he answered.
“You threw twenty-five for twenty-eight with zero interceptions. Some would call that a near-perfect game. After your incident in the club last night, how fresh are you feeling?”
Landyn smirked. “Pretty fresh if I can throw a near-perfect game.”
“It’s too early to predict whether or not your team will have a winning season or even make it to the playoffs, but what do you think your chances are for the rest of the season?”
“Well, it’s too early to predict,” he half-mocked the third reporter, “but if the team continues to play like they did tonight, then I say our chances at a winning season are pretty good, don’t you?”
“You’ve been in the press recently for drinking and partying. Are you going to limit your extracurricular activities so you won’t let you team down?”
Oh, I hated this reporter. The pretty blonde who wrote a sports column for one of Richmond’s most widely circulated papers. She was always quite critical of players on the national level, hardly offering praise—unless they played a perfect game. Someone whose bias I was determined to root out. But not tonight. Tonight was Landyn’s night.
Landyn took a few moments before he responded. I watched his smirk fade into a somber expression, the light of winning dimming from his eyes, his gaze as serious as I’d seen it since I'd known him.
“I’ve changed a lot in the these last two weeks. I’ve met a wonderful, brilliant, funny woman—my…manager—who, along with members of my team and the coaching staff, has taught me that I don’t carry this team by myself. We’re a family. We love one another”—his gaze met mine—“and we’ll do anything for each other.” He scanned the crowd.
“We carry the weight together. I’m going to continue the activities that you’ve all read about recently—my work with kids and the elderly—and I hope to increase those activities because it’s about the community. I’ve promised my team, and now I’m promising the fans that I’m going to do my part. We all are going to do our part to get this team to the playoffs. Thank you.”
“Landyn!”
“Landyn!”
“One more question, Landyn!”
The crowd blurred in front of me, and I blinked rapidly to keep the moisture from reaching my cheeks. I left conspicuously through a side door and weaved through the staff, security, and a bunch of other people I didn’t know and headed to the door I knew would lead me to the physical therapy and sports medicine area.
And the massage tables.
I entered one of the massage rooms and lit a few candles. Next, I sampled about a dozen different tracks before I found one that didn’t sound too woo-woo and that I could leave on repeat. In a cabinet, I found some towels and I laid one down on the massage table. After slipping off my shoes, I hoisted myself up and waited.
Not for long.
Not ten minutes later, Landyn rushed through the door, panting. His hair was wet and curly, his skin still dewy.
Sex on a stick.
Incredible that I felt almost no nerves, just…relief. That, finally, he was the one. The muscles near my pelvis began to contract, the sensation traveling downward in the shape of a V and pooling into frenzied need.
“I didn’t even fully dry. My clothes are sticking to me.”
I laughed. “Took you long enough.”
He let out a frustrated sound. “I checked every room. You had to pick the last one. Like my answers?” He wagged his brows.
“Well, well, well. You did listen during media practice. Bravo.”
His breathing slowed and he stalked forward. “I listen to everything you say.”
“Ha! No, you don’t.”
He stopped and put his hands on his waist, his expression one of feigned shock. “When have I not listened?”
“How many times have you kissed me or tried to seduce me since I first told you to keep it professional?” I accused with a grin.
He looked around the room slowly, nodding at my shoes on the floor and slowly drawing his gaze up my body. I shivered from the intensity of his stare. Soon I’d be wet. “And what, Ms. Mackleby, do you call all of this?”
Good point. “Um…”
He crossed the remaining distance between us. He placed his hands on the table encasing me. “Is this part of your service?”
I playfully slapped him. “I’m not that kind of full service.”
“But you’d have to admit that the place, the candles, the music—good choice, by the way—can make one think that you’re about to change the terms of our agreement.”
I took his face in my hands. “That changed a long time ago,” I said softly. “When you kissed me that first time.”
His lips took mine, slow and deep. I wrapped my legs around his waist and drew him forward. I wanted him as close to me as humanly possible. His arms went around me, lifting me slightly and shifting me to lie the length of the table while he positioned himself over me. His mouth covered mine again and I moaned. I used the heels of my feet to nudge him right beneath his buttocks, and he groaned deeply.
“Post-game wrap-up is in thirty minutes. So close,” he said against my mouth.
“Not yet?” I whined.
Landyn laughed. He supported himself on his elbows. “No, not yet. In fact, there’s something I want us to do first?”
“What?”
“I want to take you to dinner.”
I smiled. A real date. I traced my finger down his beautifully carved jaw. God had known what He was doing when He’d designed this man. “How could I say no?”
He rolled his eyes. “Do you know how many times you’ve told me no? Because my ego’s kept count.”
Laughing, I put a finger over his mouth. “Don’t remind me!” I removed my finger and put my lips in its place. “I’m only saying yes now.”
He grunted, taking my lips with more force. “You’ll say my name when I’m through with you, Little Mouse.”
I groaned, my head falling back. “I hate that name.”
“Get used to it.”
“Do you still want that dinner?”
His hip ground into mine and I gasped at t
he contact. His mouth claimed mine. I inhaled deeply when he finally saw fit to release me. “Get used to it,” he said gruffly.
“Yes, Landyn. Yes…”
This is so not the end.
The Richmond Rhinos have a whole season to play and you’ll meet the rest of the team and follow them as they live out their NFL dreams. A new novel will release every month!
You’re invited to ROOKIE COMBINE.
Click above to find out more.
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The Rookies Series
The Quarterback
The Tight End (July 2018)
The Running Back (August 2018)
The Kicker (September 2018)
The Wide Receiver (October 2018)
The Linebacker (November 2018)
The Tackle (December 2018)
The Coach (January 2019)
The Owner (Fall 2018—ROOKIE COMBINE members only)
Who is Zoë?
Zoë Lane is in love with romance. Until she finds her true love, she’ll write romances full of hot men, quirky heroines, and the occasional alpha werewolf. When she’s not furiously writing romance, she’s watching football, playing League of Legends (not very well so don’t troll her!), and enjoying an episode of Downton Abbey or a Christmas Hallmark movie. She’s releasing her first series, The Rookies, beginning July 2018.
Visit Zoë at www.zoelaneauthor.com
