Pass Protection (Quarterback Sneak Book 3)

by Natalie Brock

  From the start, he treated her like she mattered, like she had a brain in her head. He seemed interested in her opinion, in her goals, in her future. He didn’t paw at her like some guys. He didn’t look at her like she was an object. But those times when he did look at her, really look at her, it felt like he could see into her soul. And when he took her in his arms and kissed her, the kisses were scorching. There was so much heart, so much pure emotion behind those kisses that it felt almost spiritual, other-worldly. No one had ever kissed her that way before, and she was sure no one ever would again.

  She could not let this go. She couldn’t give up.

  She found herself playing with the seashells in the glass bowl on the kitchen table as if they were marbles. She picked one up and smiled, remembering the day they walked along the shore of Siesta Key beach and searched for shells. Matthew had chosen each one carefully. They had to be whole, not broken. They had to be empty, because he didn’t want to disturb any living creatures who called the seashell home. His face lit up every time he found a pinwheel shell. The spiral-shaped shells were his favorites.

  By the time they got back to their blanket, they’d collected about two dozen shells. And when they got back to campus, he carefully placed the shells into her cupped hands. To Brittany, it was like he was bestowing upon her a special gift, hand-picked treasures from the sea, mementos of their getaway, essentially their first date.

  He had given her so much emotionally, so much more than she gave him, and maybe that was the problem.

  She took one of the shells out of the bowl and gently rolled it between her fingers, feeling the ridges and awed by the little miracles of nature. “Miracle,” she whispered. Her eyes widened and an idea flashed through her mind. “That’s it!”

  She placed the shell on the table and went to the closet where she kept her crafting kit. She brought it back to the table, suddenly glad it was raining. She would have a couple of hours of uninterrupted time to devote to the Matthew project before leaving for work.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Matthew returned to his dorm after church and was about to turn the doorknob when he noticed an oddly shaped envelope taped to the door. He pulled it off, stepped inside his apartment, and switched on the light. His brow knit when he withdrew the contents from the envelope. It looked like an arts and crafts project—an angel made out of spiral seashells. Mostly it was the outline of an angel—the head, halo, and wings, strung along a thin wire. He looked in the envelope again and saw a note on an index card. It simply said, “I like you just the way you are. Forgive me?”

  He exhaled and smiled inadvertently. He didn’t need to forgive her for anything. He was the one who’d overreacted, and he knew it. He lost his temper and she didn’t deserve it. Over the years, so many people had questioned his choice to be celibate when it was nobody’s business but his own. He wished he’d never taken part in that article about the celibacy pact in high school. It wasn’t his idea, but he couldn’t get out of it. Ever since then, his sex life—or lack thereof—defined him more than his football stats. Any time he was mentioned in an article, he was labeled as the guy who took the purity vow or the vow of celibacy or whatever they wanted to call it. Reporters assumed that was more important to readers than his passing attempts, completion percentage, number of touchdowns, or anything else about him. So he was a little touchy on the subject.

  He should have been the one apologizing to Brittany, not the other way around. Listening to today’s sermon about forgiveness had been the clincher, but Brit beat him to it. He reached for his phone and was about to dial her number. Instead, he clicked the off key. This conversation needed to happen in person so he could look into her eyes and tell her how much this shell angel meant to him.

  When he got to her dorm room, her roommate told him she was at work. He remembered Brittany telling him the salon was on International Drive and Harbor Lane—some high-end, full-service salon with an upscale clientele. He thanked her roommate and asked her not to mention he’d been by. He wanted to surprise her.

  »»•««

  The afternoon was dragging and Brittany felt lethargic as she swept hair clippings from the floor. It was still pouring rain, which didn’t help Brittany’s mood. She reached inside her jeans pocket to check her phone for the twentieth time since she arrived at work. Matthew had to have seen the shell angel by now. He had to have read the note. Then why wasn’t he calling? She knew why. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. He wasn’t moved by her gesture and he didn’t forgive her.

  “Brit, we’re running low on towels.” The salon manager’s voice cut through her thoughts.

  She put on a fake smile and said, “I’m on it,” as cheerfully as she could. She could fool her coworkers, but she couldn’t fool herself. She was officially heartbroken. Matthew was the closest thing she’d had to a real boyfriend maybe ever, and now their potential would never be realized.

  She piled as many towels as she could fit into a laundry bag and stopped by the cash register where the receptionist handed her enough coins for two loads of laundry. Before exiting, she draped her jean jacket over her head to keep her hair from getting drenched during the walk to the Laundromat. It was only a few doors down in the same shopping plaza, but this downpour was enough to get soaked in a second. “Be right back,” she said before running out into the rain.

  ∙•∙

  When Matthew headed out on his motorcycle, he wasn’t thinking about the weather, only about Brittany. It was a fifteen to twenty minute trip, and he was about five minutes into it when he realized how hard it was raining. He was wearing a jacket but driving between fifty and sixty miles an hour; the downpour felt like pins and needles on his exposed skin. The clothes clung to his rain-soaked body.

  He had to be crazy to drive his Harley in a rainstorm like this, and he was—crazy about Brittany. He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but these last twenty-four hours without speaking to her were agony. If he hadn’t been holding on to his Irish stubbornness, he would have realized it twelve hours ago. He actually didn’t mind getting wet if it meant Brittany was at the end of the rainbow.

  Matthew pulled his motorcycle into a parking spot. He squinted at the store signs until he found the one that said Salon Simone. Jogging toward the storefront, he kept his helmet on just to keep his head from getting drenched until he reached the front door.

  He entered the shop holding the helmet under his arm, and the woman at the front desk asked, “Do you have an appointment, sir?”

  He’d been scanning the salon for Brittany but he didn’t see her. All he saw was a shopworn salon with shabby furniture and aging customers. “Um. I might be in the wrong place.” Turning his attention to the receptionist, he said, “I’m looking for one of your stylists. Her name is Brittany.”

  “Brittany’s not a stylist.” The receptionist almost sounded amused. “She’s an assistant. More like a maintenance girl.” Matthew raised his brows. She pointed behind him. “She’s at the Laundromat a few doors away. You can wait for her here if you want. I’d offer you a towel, but we’re low.”

  Matthew’s lips parted. He hardly knew what to say. He was sure Brittany told him she was a stylist at a high-end salon. Well, from the run-down look of the salon and the shopping center, and the way both the clients and the hair stylists were dressed, this shop was anything but high end. “No, that’s okay I’ll catch up with her. Thanks.”

  He walked back out into the rain but didn’t head for his bike. Instead, he stood blinking at the nearly empty parking lot. He knew she was a proud girl. He knew she hid behind makeup and a tough exterior to keep people from knowing the real Brittany. It shouldn’t surprise him to find out that she wasn’t what she said she was at work either. So she wasn’t a stylist. He understood. He got her. What she was didn’t matter to him. He only cared about who she was, and he wanted her to trust him enough to know that he wouldn’t judge her. Well, okay, maybe he used to, but not anymore.

 
; With his helmet still under his arm, he walked toward the Laundromat.

  ∙•∙

  Brittany finished loading two washing machines with towels, smocks, and capes. She’d be back in about forty-five minutes to transfer the laundry from the washers into dryers. Draping her wet jacket over her head, she started back to the salon. Her head was lowered to keep the rain off her face, so she wasn’t watching where she was going when she ran into someone big and tall, wearing tennis shoes on his large feet. She briefly looked up just long enough to say “Sorry,” and proceeded to walk around the guy.

  “Brittany!” She heard a voice call her name. She turned back around and squinted through the raindrops. She wasn’t sure she was seeing correctly. The man standing a few yards away looked like—“Matthew!” What was he doing here, she wondered. Was this just a super weird coincidence? Her heart lodged in her throat when she realized he might have gone into the salon and would know she lied to him, both about the type of clientele and her role. She wished she’d never told that lie, not only because she’d been caught in it, but because it proved she truly didn’t deserve him.

  She couldn’t read his expression, so she just started talking, shouting actually, to be heard above the noisy rainfall. “Okay look. I’m sorry for coming on so strong. For seeming like I wanted to change you. You take your vow really seriously and leaving that article in your locker made it seem like I was making light of it. And I’m honestly truly sorry that my little gesture made you change your mind about me. I’m sorry for everything.” The words that spilled out of her mouth were not what she intended, but she was in self-preservation mode now. Choking back tears, she said, “I don’t blame you for thinking I’m not the right kind of girl for you. Frankly, I’d think the same thing if I were you. You deserve someone better, someone with more sensitivity than me.”

  “Stop a minute, would you?” He cut her off. “I never said you’re not the right kind of girl for me. And if that’s really what you’re trying to tell me, you’re going to have to do a way better job of convincing me.” When his lips curved into a small smile, she remembered the shell angel.

  “Oh my God! You forgive me!” She rushed toward him, not noticing that her jacket had fallen to the ground. He dropped his helmet and took her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders while he kissed her in the rain, harder and with more emotion than he’d ever kissed her before, nearly lifting her off the ground.

  He broke the kiss and looked upward for a moment. Then he moved the both of them under an overhang where it was a little drier. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Brit. I overreacted. I acted like an idiot.”

  She kind of agreed with that statement, but this was too important a moment to ruin it. “It’s okay,” she said instead. “I swear I didn’t leave you that article because I want you to change, although I admit you drive me crazy sometimes by just being you because it makes you even sexier,” she rambled, “but I respect your faith and your vows. It’s part of who you are. It makes you mysterious and dignified and refined and—” He cut her off with another kiss, this one deeper than the last. When he leaned away, she blurted out, “I was afraid we’d never do that again.”

  Holding her waist, he said, “I missed you, Brittany. You’ve been like this amazing surprise in my life. You’ve gotten under my skin and I can’t walk away. I don’t want to walk away.”

  “Then don’t,” she said, with her fingertips clinging to his shoulders.

  “I won’t,” he uttered softly.

  “I’m just glad I haven’t lost you.”

  Looking into her eyes, he shook his head from side to side. “That’s not possible.” He pulled her closer and kissed her again. And again. She relaxed in his arms and savored the kisses. This was probably the best moment of her life. Finally, for the first time in her life, a guy she had feelings for truly cared about her too. She could feel it in his kisses. Leaning away, Matthew rubbed his nose against hers. “What time do you finish work?”

  “Five,” she said quietly.

  “I’ll call you. We’ll do something, okay?”

  Brittany nodded. She had no idea what he had in mind and it didn’t seem like he did either, but he wanted to be with her. That was all that mattered. He kissed her one more time before retrieving his helmet from the ground. He picked up her jacket and brought it to her. “It’s really wet.”

  She giggled. “So are we.”

  He kissed her forehead before securing his helmet strap. “See you soon.” He gave her hand a squeeze and brought it to his lips. He smiled at her warmly before turning around and running toward his motorcycle in the pouring rain. Brittany hugged herself as she watched him motor away. Oh, how she wished it were five o’clock.

  »»•««

  Five o’clock finally arrived and it was still raining, although not as hard as before. Brittany dialed Matthew’s number as soon as she got in her car. She started the ignition and exited the parking lot while waiting for him to answer.

  “Hey, beautiful.” His voice came through her mobile phone’s speaker.

  She warmed at his greeting. By now, she knew him well enough to know he never said anything he didn’t mean. “I’m in my car. I’ll be on campus in twenty minutes.” She didn’t care if that sounded too eager.

  “I’ll meet you at the entrance to your dorm. We can hang out.”

  He surprised her with that one. “Oh um. My roommate’s home by now and I was kind of hoping we could be alone.” There was a long pause that worried her. She didn’t mean to make it sound like she was expecting them to get intimate. She hoped he wouldn’t get angry again.

  “Then come to my place.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” he answered definitively.

  “Okay. I need to stop at my place first. I’m a mess and I need to jump in the shower.” Her clothes were wet, her hair was frizzy, and there were hair clippings stuck to her jeans from sweeping.

  “Come as you are,” he urged.

  “But—”

  “No buts. I like you just the way you are too.” She shivered when he quoted the words in her note. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes.” He hung up.

  Brittany tossed her phone on the passenger seat. She felt weird going straight to Matthew’s place without fixing herself up. Normally if she had a date, she’d spend hours getting ready. Her hair and makeup and outfit would have to be perfect before meeting up with her date. This was new territory for Brittany. Still, Matthew had seen her without any makeup whenever they shared a hotel room for away games, so he wouldn’t be shocked to see her looking less than her best. He once told her he thought she looked better without makeup. She adjusted the windshield mirror to see how bad she looked. Ugh—even worse than she thought. Her mascara was smeared and she resembled a wet raccoon. Taking a deep breath, she gazed through the windshield and mumbled, “Relax, girl. You’ll be fine. He likes you the way you are.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  He answered the door shirtless, wearing sweat pants and a towel draped around his neck. His pectoral muscles glistened with droplets of water, making it obvious he had just come out of the shower. Standing in the doorway, Brittany imagined herself drinking the droplets off his chest. She blinked, forcing herself back to reality. “No fair,” she said. “You got to take a shower and I didn’t.”

  He gestured toward the bathroom. “Be my guest. There’s a bathrobe on the back of the door.”

  Stepping into the apartment, she looked at him with surprise. She didn’t want to waste time in the shower when she’d come here to be with him, but she felt sticky and icky and really wanted to freshen up. “I’ll be quick,” she said with a gentle touch on his shoulder.

  As she undressed in the bathroom, it occurred to her that this was a big deal, taking a shower at a guy’s apartment, a guy she really cared for. This was actually starting to feel relationship-y. She turned the knob on the shower and let the warm water rain down on her naked body. Grasping the green and white soap
bar, she took a whiff. It smelled like Matthew—springtime fresh and clean. She slowly rubbed the bar of soap over her breast, imagining Matthew was holding the bar. The water temperature turned cool, snapping her out of her reverie. Between the two of them, they’d probably used up all the hot water. She quickly rinsed off and squeezed the excess water out of her hair before stepping out of the shower and slipping into the navy blue terry bathrobe. The robe was huge on her, but she thought she looked cute in the mirror.

  Matthew did a double take when she walked back into the studio-style dorm room. He had thrown on a navy blue T-shirt that clung to his damp body. He came closer and stopped right in front of her. “You’re so beautiful like this.” Cupping her head, he leaned closer and kissed her softly.

  She stared into his bright blue eyes and couldn’t help but ask, “Like what?”

  He smiled and took her hands. “You’re so much prettier without makeup.” She raised her brows and was about to disagree when he placed his index finger over her lips. “Don’t argue with me. It’s true.” He tugged on her hands. “Come. Let’s sit.”

  His dorm was a one-room apartment. There was no separate kitchen or bedroom. Everything was in one large space, in plain view as soon as you walked through the door. The decor was pretty austere, pretty much what you’d expect, considering Matthew was a no-frills kind of guy.