the sound fills me with warmth. Or something. Whatever it is, it feels amazing.
This is what I’ve needed.
I smile like a dumbass. “I’ll let you pick what we watch.”
“That’s quite enticing, Mr. Kingston. What if I pick the chickiest chick flick I can find?” Her voice curls around me, sultry and soft, and the anxiousness I’ve felt all day melts away.
Chuckling, I stretch out on the bed. “Then maybe you’ll feel sorry for subjecting me to it, and let me pick the food we order.”
“Sounds perfect.”
It sounds like a date.
No, not a date. Definitely not that. It can’t be that. More like some hang time with my beautiful, off-limits babysitter and friend.
And who says I can’t hang out with a friend?
30
RIDER
Eyes stinging from sweat, I glance at the scoreboard even though I know we’re tied at thirty.
I can’t even blame this on screwups. We’ve been pretty tight this afternoon, but Oklahoma’s defense has been a beast, plain and simple.
With two minutes left in the fourth, it’s balls-to-the-fucking-wall time.
We burn through our downs and barely make any headway, but I can’t let it go to overtime. After driving all day yesterday and sleeping in crappy beds, I know I’m not the only one dealing with fatigue. We stand a helluva better chance of ending this now than in overtime.
The defense is all over my receivers, and even though there’s nothing I’d love more than to gun it into the end zone, I know that’s probably not going to be an option. We need twenty yards for a first down to put us in field goal range.
Maybe it’s time to make a house call.
My fingers itch to take hold of the ball. I huff out a breath and call the play, conditioning and practice and endless visualizing taking over.
When the ball snaps on the fourth down with fifteen seconds on the clock, I drop back and check my options, but I already know what I’m gonna see. And that mammoth-sized Sooner headed my way will nail my ass if I don’t move.
I juke the defender, make like I’m gonna pass to psych out the second guy zeroed in on me, tuck the ball under my arm, and hightail it through a narrow opening.
Out of my peripheral vision, that red uniform blazes toward me like a neon warning sign. He dives for my legs, but I leap over his outstretched arms. I stumble but somehow manage to regain my footing as my O-line plows a path for me.
And then I run.
Fifty yards.
Thirty.
A body flies into my path, but I jerk to a stop, spin around him and keep going.
Twenty.
Ten.
End zone.
Game.
My teammates hoist me into the air, and I’m riding the best high, the kind that makes me think anything is possible. Like winning a championship and being drafted and making a name for myself in the NFL are all within reach.
The moment my feet touch the ground, my thoughts turn to Poppy and sweet, beautiful Gabby.
And I wish they were here in the stands.
31
GABBY
Like a kid scared to get caught with her hand in the cookie jar, I check to make sure Sienna’s in her room before I switch the TV back to ESPN. My roommate will make a bigger deal of this than it is if she catches me watching the recap again.
But my God, that was a freaking amazing game.
I nearly gnawed off all my nails this afternoon. Sienna and I cheered our little hearts out. We even dressed Poppy in Bronco colors.
We sent Rider a photo of Poppy touching the TV when they did a close-up of him. I held her right up to the screen while Sienna snapped pics.
I pull up his response on my phone, happier than I should be that he texted shortly after his win.
Rider: Glad my girl could watch! I think she’s my lucky charm. ;)
I’m ashamed to say, for a hot second I thought he was calling me his girl and calling me his lucky charm. I was ridiculously pleased.
And then I remembered, no, dummy, he meant his actual little girl.
I’ll admit it. I’ve finally gone to the dark side, but how can I take care of Rider’s baby and not cheer for the man?
Rider’s absurdly handsome face fills the screen. He’s wearing a fiercely serious expression, glaring like a Roman soldier going off to war. All he needs is a sword and shield. It’s no wonder women lose their minds at his games. They come decked out in bikini tops, even in cold