by Ryan, Kaylee
Landon.
A slow smile crosses his face as he turns sideways. His eyes start at my crazy mop of hair on top of my head, before then skimming over my body. Heat courses through me, both embarrassment and well… a little bit turned on if I’m being honest. Landon is sexy as sin, and to have his attention on me, well, I’m only human. What makes it worse is I know what it feels like to have his arms around me.
Danger. Danger. Danger. I keep repeating the words over and over in my head. Landon Barker is dangerous. Not in an illegal kind of way, but in an he-can-break-your-heart kind of way.
Suddenly, I remember that not only is my hair in a messy knot, but I have zero makeup on, and I’m in a T-shirt and yoga pants. Isn’t that just my luck. I literally run into the sexiest man on earth and I look like a hot mess. Not to mention, said sexy man has been… perusing me? Is that what he’s been doing?
Damn alarm clock!
“You okay, freckles?” he asks in his deep, masculine voice.
“I-I’m so sorry,” I manage to squeak the words. Why am I suddenly nervous around him? This is Landon, and I’m not trying to impress him. Not really, but I’d still like to be presentable.
“Happens all the time.” He smirks.
I’m sure it does. His eyes alone are enough to have panties dropping everywhere, add in his thick, dark locks, and his body, and it’s obvious he’s not just being a conceited jerk; he’s speaking the truth. “I should have been paying attention,” I say when I realize he’s still looking at me.
“It’s all good.” He nods. His eyes are doing another lazy stroll of my body, making me feel self-conscious.
“I woke up late. It’s been one of those mornings.” I laugh humorlessly. You know what I’m talking about, those laughs that make everyone within earshot uncomfortable. Yeah, that’s me. Fuck my life.
“Uh-huh,” he says, a smile tilting his gorgeous full lips. “Something keeping you up at night, Em?”
Why does his voice suddenly sound like sex? “So, uh, you come here often?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to force them back in. Landon has managed to turn me into a bumbling, lame, small-talking idiot.
“No, first time actually.” He doesn’t give me more than that. My eyes rake over him, taking him in from head to toe. Why am I acting this way this morning? I think it’s the eyes. Then again, maybe it’s the muscles, or that beard. Hmm, I do love me some beard. Either way, I need to snap out of it. This is Landon. The player, not just on the field if my internet research is accurate. We’re friends, nothing more.
“Hello.” He waves his hand in front of my face to get my attention. Not that it’s possible, but if it were possible, my face would be even redder from embarrassment. “You okay?” He raises his eyebrows like he’s not really sure. Is that concern on his face?
Great, I’ve officially presented myself as the crazy, messy, stare-off-into-space, laugh-at-the-wrong-time girl. Just the icing on this shit-tastic day. “Yeah, sorry, just thinking about what I’m going to get.” Lies.
“I’m not sure either.” He rubs his hand over his chin, over his beard.
“Cinnamon coffee cake muffin,” I blurt out my favorite. “You can’t go wrong.” I’m nodding like a crazy person. I blame all of this on my damn alarm clock. Waking up late puts me off-kilter every damn time. I hate it. I make a mental note to get a backup for the future. No more days like today. I don’t think I’d survive them, and the day’s just started.
“Next!” the barista calls out.
Just like that, he turns to place his order and I’m once again faced with his strong,
muscular back, and that ass. Realizing I’m standing here staring at said ass, I avert my gaze to anywhere but his ass. I settle on a poster advertising an upcoming craft fair at the local convention center. Maybe I’ll see if Aubrey wants to go. He turns to me. “What do you want, Em?”
“Nothing, I have a list, so you go ahead.” I wave him off.
“Emma.”
“Landon.” I match his tone. “Really, I’m good. Next time.”
“I’m holding you to that,” he says, and turns back to pay for his order.
Closing my eyes, I take a cleansing breath. I need to get my head in the game. I’m not some teenager who can’t talk to guys, and this is Landon. He’s not a stranger. Sure, we’re not BFFs, but we’ve spent some time together so the way I’m acting is ridiculous.
“Ma’am.” I hear an irritated barista call out. Opening my eyes and snapping my head to face forward, I see it’s my turn. I’m holding up the line, and Landon is gone.
“I’m sorry. It’s been one of those mornings,” I say with yet another awkward laugh.
“Can I take your order?” she asks, giving me a small tilt of her lips that tells me she’s not amused, but her job depends on her being friendly.
“Yes, I’ll take a large black coffee with two sugars, one banana nut muffin and one cinnamon coffee cake muffin.”
“Sorry, the guy before you took the last cinnamon coffee cake. What else can I get you?”
My shoulders sag. Of course, he did. Lucky bastard. “Just two banana nuts,” I say, defeated. Today is just not my day. Pulling my debit card out of my purse, I hand it over and try to give her a kind smile. It’s not her fault. Hell, it’s mine. I never should have suggested my favorite. If I wasn’t fumbling around like an idiot, I might not have. “Thank you,” I say, taking my card back and sliding it into my wallet. She hands me my coffee, and a small bag containing two muffins, and although the banana nut is delicious, I’m not nearly as excited as I was when I walked through the door.
“Have a nice day,” I say politely, turning toward the door. I notice that everyone seems to be looking at the back corner of the room, and that’s when I see him. Landon. The lucky bastard got my muffin. I take a step toward the door and stop. Everyone’s staring at him, no wonder he thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Sure, he’s easy on the eyes, but the bastard took my muffin. I take another step, keeping my eyes on him and the bag holding his delicious muffin that sits on the table untouched. He’s drinking what I assume is coffee and scrolling through his phone. He’s not even eating it. Come on, when you have a Seaside Café cinnamon coffee cake muffin within your reach, you don’t ignore it for social media. Before I know what’s happening, my feet are carrying me to him.
Obviously, this little adventure of mine wasn’t planned out. Hence the reason I’m standing next to his table, holding my coffee and my small bag, staring at his bag knowing what’s inside.
“What’s up, Em?” He smirks, setting his phone on the table as he stares up at me. Damn, those eyes.
“So, um, you got the last cinnamon muffin, and I kind of had my heart set on it. I thought maybe I could trade you or we could split it, and I could give you one of my banana nuts?” The words spew from my mouth.
He holds my stare. Those deep cerulean blue eyes seem to be penetrating my soul. I fidget from one foot to the next. I need to get to work, but dammit, I really wanted that muffin.
A slow grin spreads over his face as he raises his hands and motions for me to sit with him. He slides the bag containing all the goodness that is the Seaside Café cinnamon coffee cake muffin.
“Here.” I shove my bag at him. “One of those is for Aubrey,” I tell him.
He pushes it back toward me. “I already ate breakfast. I just stopped for coffee on my way to practice.”
“Then why did you buy the muffin?”
“Truth?”
“Always.”
“I didn’t plan to. You said it was your favorite. I was going to bring it to you today after practice. I didn’t realize I’d bought the last one.” He nods toward the bag. “Eat up, Em.”
Not needing to be told twice, I pull open the bag and lift the muffin, taking a huge bite. So far, this is the best part of this terrible day.
“Why are you grinning?” I ask him after swallowing.
“Date number four.” He smirks.
&n
bsp; “What?” I ask, just about to take another large bite.
“This is our fourth meal together.”
“You’re not eating. It doesn’t count.” I feel smug. Taking another big bite, I close my eyes to savor the muffin. When I open them again, Landon’s eyes are watching me intently. He reaches for my bag, pulls out a muffin, and takes a big bite.
His eyes never leave mine as he chews and swallows. His dimples appear. “Date number four, Em.”
“Are you going to be late for practice?” I ask him, changing the subject.
“Are you going to be late for work?” he counters.
“Yeah, but Aubrey knows and besides, she gets a muffin out of the deal.”
“Fair enough.” He pops the last piece of his muffin into his mouth and glances at the time on his phone. “I should get going.” He stands and gathers his trash, as do I. I can finish my muffin on the way to work. I walk toward the door and feel his hand on the small of my back. Reaching around me, he opens the door for me and we exit the café.
“Have a great practice, Number Eighteen.” I’m already feeling more like myself.
“Have a good day, Emma. I’ll call you later?”
I find myself nodding. He grins and turns, jogging off to his SUV. How is it that I’ve been in this town since college and never ran into him and now, here we are, immersed in each other’s lives at what feels like every turn? I point my Jeep toward the shelter and think about what to tell Aubrey. I can already hear her telling me it’s fate.
Is it fate?
Do I believe in fate?
Only time will tell.
Chapter 12
Landon
It’s been over three weeks since Emma and I had our first date. Well, not technically a date. I’m still working on that. However, I like to tease her about it. Every time we share a meal, I chalk it up to another date. It used to irritate her, and now she’s asking me for a tally, making sure I’m still keeping track.
We’re on date number fifteen, unofficially of course. Each one is better than the last. Most of them are me stopping by the shelter after practice, but there have been a few weekends thrown into the mix as well. Nothing like the night when we first cuddled and to be honest, I’m disappointed. I was sure I would lose interest in her, in the way she makes me feel—breathless, like I’m ten feet tall, and sappy as fuck. No such luck. If anything, those feelings have intensified beyond what I could ever have imagined.
I want her. Hell, I knew then and should have owned up to it, but what my parents said had merit. I needed to show her the kind of man I am, not tell her. She needed to see it with her own eyes, and that’s all I’ve done the last few weeks is try to show her that I’m falling. Fast and hard if how much time I spend thinking about her is any indication.
I scan the stands and I don’t see her. Tonight is our first preseason game and Emma and Aubrey are coming. They both passed on a private suite and opted to sit in the stands. CJ is staying with the babysitter, so in a way, it’s girls’ night. Glancing at the clock, there are twenty minutes until game time and no sign of them. I jog down the sidelines where Chance is standing with Thomas.
“Hey, you heard from them?” I ask him, not giving a single fuck that he and Thomas are in the middle of a conversation.
Chance glances over at me and his eyes are dancing with laughter. “They’re on their way.”
“What?” Thomas asks. “Is this the infamous Emma you won’t stop talking about?”
Yeah, so I might talk about her a little. Okay, a lot. “She’s coming to the game.”
“You nail that down?” he asks me.
“Not yet.”
“What are you waiting on?”
To show her? “Just giving her time to process it. Going from a small-town girl, to the girlfriend of a professional athlete is a big deal.”
“Girlfriend?” Chance asks, surprised. “Does she know about this?”
“No, and you two are going to keep your traps shut. In all due time,” I say, scanning the crowd again, and that’s when I spot her. I wave, getting her attention, and a beautiful smile crosses her face as she waves back. She’s wearing the Trojans jersey I dropped off to her place last night. At least I think it’s the one I gave her. She turns to high-five a fan behind her and that’s when I see it. My name is across her shoulders. She’s wearing my name and number and that does something to me. I know how big of a Mavericks fan she is, and even last night she acted like I’d given her a bottle of poison as a gift. I was hoping it was an act from the smile playing on her lips. Now, here she is, wearing it with a smile. Fuck me, but I want nothing more than to peel it off her.
“He’s a goner, boys,” Thomas boasts. I don’t even bother to try and shut him up. He’s not wrong, and it’s time to do something about it. I need to move us out of the friend-zone.
“Lucky Bastard,” Kaden mumbles. “You’re always getting the prime pu—” I hold up my hand, giving him a warning glare to shut his mouth. He grins but doesn’t finish what he was going to say.
“Not her,” I say, my voice stern. We’ve had this conversation, and I don’t want to have it again. If she were mine, he wouldn’t be talking about her like some cleat chaser. I need to do something about that.
Keeping my head in the game knowing she’s here is harder than I expected it to be. I glance up at her often, and every time I do, our eyes meet. She’s here for me. Not for the game or to cheer on either of the teams. Me. I want nothing more than to kiss the hell out of her, to show her my appreciation of course. Shaking out of my thoughts, I get my head back in the game. First game of the season with my girl and my parents in the stands. I’ve got this.
* * *
The clock hits zero and just like that, it’s half-time. We’re up by fourteen, and the team is on fire. I glance up to the stands and catch her gaze before making my way to the locker room.
“Yo, Barker, you’re hot.” Kaden slaps me on the back. “Every damn time you lay it right here.” He opens his hand and points to his palm.
I shrug. “We’re all killing it out there.”
“Yeah, but there’s something else going on. You’re laser-focused,” Jack chimes in.
“Except when he’s looking up in the stands,” Case ribs. “You trying to keep an eye on your girl, make sure her eyes aren’t straying to a real man?” He jokes, doing some crazy move that makes him look like he’s trying to fuck thin air.
“Don’t ever do that again.” I laugh.
“What, you don’t think she’d want this? I’m two hundred and ninety-five pounds of steel and sex appeal, baby.” He runs his hands up the side of his body trying to channel his inner Vanna White.
“Fuck off.” I push at his shoulder good-naturedly.
“All right, listen up.” Coach Neil goes on to give us his half-time locker room speech. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows just because we’re up at the half. We may be on fire, but he wants to keep that fire lit to bring home the win. I want that too. With Emma here watching, I want to bring this one home. Oh, and my parents, but they’ve seen me play a thousand times. Emma, she’s seen me too, but this time is different. This time she’s here to see me. That’s a game-changer.
Taking the field, my eyes instantly go to her. Expecting to find her watching for me, I’m surprised when I see Case’s brother, Corey, chatting with her and Aubrey. He’s sitting in front of them, and holding her attention. I try not to get annoyed, but it’s hard. The whistle blows and we take the field for the second half. Defense takes the field first which means I’m on the sidelines watching in between glances at Emma. Emma who’s still talking to Corey. I want to toss the football and knock his ass out. I could do it, but then it would be on national television and I’m sure it would not only piss off Coach, but the higher-ups as well. Not to mention, it would look bad on me and the team.
Maybe they’d understand when I tell them that some man, a guy I’ve met and had a beer with multiple times, is moving in on my girl. Then it
hits me like a ton of bricks. She’s not mine.
Not yet, but she will be.
It feels like we’re fourth and goal, and down by two. It’s time for me to do what I do best, and pull off a win. Not on the field, but with her. No more waiting, no more watching from the sidelines.
The second half goes about the same as the first. By the time the clock hits zero at the end of the fourth quarter, we’ve won by three touchdowns. The second half of the game is a blur for me. I kept glancing up in the stands to see Emma, chatting with Corey like she was there for him. With him. Lucky for me, football is like second nature, like breathing in a sense and I was able to keep the game moving.
The locker room is hyped with the guys cheering and laughing. It’s a big boost for morale to win the preseason game. Stopping at my locker, I waste no time stripping out of my gear, grabbing a towel and hitting the showers. The guys pull me into the celebration conversation as they recount a play I can’t remember. I bullshit my way through it, like I did the second half of the game. This isn’t like me, and I can’t keep letting it happen. Next time I might not be so lucky.
My hair is still dripping wet when I leave the locker room, my bag thrown over my shoulder.
“Where’s the fire?” Case asks, catching up with me.
“No fire. Just excited to see my girl.”
“Wow, that’s different.”
“Yeah, lots of changes,” I say as I spot Emma and Aubrey, and with them is his brother, Corey. My feet carry me faster, my long strides burning up the space between us.
“I’ll call you,” Corey tells Emma. My eyes zero in on where his hand is on her arm. He drops it when he sees us. “Good game, brother.” He pats Case on the shoulder.
“Hey, Em.” I place my focus on Emma. I have to or else I might punch Corey, and he’s a good guy. He’s chill, and we’ve hung out a lot, but all I can see is his hand on her arm and him telling her that he’s going to call her. My attention is better focused on her.
