No reminder on my phone or set schedule would help me with Rory, and any energy I focused off the field would only hurt my chances of success.
I knew how to win a football game, but scoring with Rory? It wasn’t just a bad idea; it was the wrong game to play.
And yet, life already had handed me the ball.
I wasn’t a man who liked to lose.
10
Rory
Maybe I needed to wear two sets of panties around Jude. Obviously, wearing none was a bad idea.
I pawed through my drawers, re-organizing the clothing for the second time that night.
I wasn’t nesting. I was avoiding Jude.
Panties would be my first line of defense. I’d wear the ones that hugged a bit too tight. They were still cute, but the constriction would remind me to keep my damn legs shut. Then, I’d cover them with a pair of my rattiest, ugliest granny-panties. The pair that survived the laundry because they were good for period insurance. One look at the floral yellow monstrosity wouldn’t just frighten a would-be suitor—it’d retract his boys right on up into his gut to hide.
Still, this plan hinged on me keeping the panties on via my own ethical and moral code. That was harder than it should have been. Especially after my first real official game with the team.
Last Sunday, I’d stood on the sidelines cheering and biting my nails raw while watching as Jude, Jack, and Lachlan utterly decimated the opposing defense.
Jude hadn’t looked thirty-three years old. He’d run like a rookie, sweat dripping from his forehead, arms bulging with thick muscles. His gun-metal grey eyes studied only the end zone. That was good. He never saw me staring at him.
Maybe it was a triple panty type of day. I’d add a thong, just to stay appropriately uncomfortable.
I couldn’t afford any mistakes with him. The few moments at the charity event?
Big mistake.
No matter how much I liked it, no matter how much I had always dreamed of a moment like that, it could never be just fun and games. I had a baby on the way. And if that wasn’t complicated enough, I was living a lie and stuck in a relationship with the sexiest man I should never love.
My step-mother wasn’t answering my calls. My step-brother had threatened Jude the last time he texted. And my second trimester subbed out my morning sickness for a dose of hormones that destroyed my inhibitions.
I couldn’t hide from him forever. Fortunately, the Rivets had traveled to a hotel in the city Saturday night before the game. After the win yesterday, Jude came home and hobbled right to bed. Today wasn’t much better. He’d limped to the practice facility, watched films of the best and worse plays, and then dragged himself home to collapse on the couch.
Apparently, this was normal.
The team always looked like they were jumped in a dark alley after a game. He’d recover, he said. It didn’t take a medical professional to realize his butt was kicked.
I thought I had to worry about his head. How was the rest of him going to survive the season?
Fortunately, Tuesdays were the official day off for the entire league. Jude had all of the night and tomorrow to recuperate. That meant he’d be around the house.
And we’d have to…talk.
About what had happened. About what was going to happen.
I knew this arrangement would be messy. I had no idea how much of a disaster it could be too.
I joined him in the living room as he ate dinner—three chicken breasts in a bowl filled to the brim with frozen vegetables and brown rice.
Hell, he couldn’t even get the fork to his lips.
Jude caught my worried glance. “Don’t get worried about me. We won the game.”
“It looks like you lost.”
“That’s the price of success.”
“I’d ask for a refund.”
Phillip snorted from his bed in the corner. At least the dog was on my side.
Jude stretched his legs out on the ottoman before swearing under his breath. He grimaced as he bent his knees, and I hopped up before he did any damage.
“What can I get you?” I asked.
“Ice.” He pointed to the kitchen. “I forgot my packs.”
“I’ll find them.”
“You’re a goddamned saint, Doc.”
“I’ll add it to my bill.”
Jude smiled. God, he had such a nice smile. Something teasing and still genuine. Bright.
I was finally able to look in his eyes again, but a single word from him twisted me into a complete pretzel, every knot another bad decision I’d make around him, for him, because