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“Should we make drinking and shedding our clothes a weekly thing?” Maven asks. “Or are we pretending this never happened?”
“We probably shouldn’t make it a weekly thing, but I’m sure as hell not going to forget about it anytime soon.”
“Good.” Her eyes move from my chest to my stomach then further down. “I’m not, either.”
“I don’t want to be the one to walk away, because I don’t want you to think I’m walking away from you. But the longer I look at you, the less I trust myself to behave. So I’m going to get up and go to bed. I think you should too.”
She hums and stands from the couch, towering over me. I lift my chin to look at her, and she smiles, a dangerous, sensual thing. “Whatever you say,Daddy.Good night.”
I bite my fist when she walks away, and whatever strand of self-restraint I have left just got even shorter.
TWENTY-FIVE
MAVEN
“This game is so good,”Cassidy, one of the other photographers for the Titans, yells out over the sound of the hometown crowd. “There’s nothing better than extra football.”
“First overtime game of the season.” I take a break from capturing photos to stretch my neck and glance over at her. “We have the best job, don’t we?”
“Every time I think about quitting, I’m reminded that I’m getting paid to watch football. Ten seasons in, and I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
“Do people ever criticize you? Do they tell you to get a real job?” I ask.
“All the time. But then I post pictures from the Super Bowl with the guys, and everyone’s jealous. It’s like men are allowed to exist in sports spaces without being questioned about their career. When a woman does it, they can’t wait to get rid of us,” she says.
“I’ve noticed that, too. I’m glad the guys on the team are so supportive of the women on the Titans staff, but the men on the internet can be brutal. Someone said the photo I shared of Sam Wagner two weeks ago looked like something their toddler could take. Which is funny because SportsCenter used it as their leadoff image on the primetime show. FishandBeer4269 can fuck off.”
Cassidy laughs. “Welcome to the hellish side of working in an industry men think is their thing. Throw in actually knowing the rules of the game, too, and they positivelyhateus.”
We walk from the far side of the field to the end zone where the Titans will be trying to score so we can be in the best position for any game-winning drives. A field goal will allow the Grizzlies to have a shot with the ball, but a touchdown ends the game.
I know Jett’s going to do everything in his power to make sure their opponents don’t get an opportunity to squeak out a victory.
“You’re nannying for Dallas, right?” Cassidy asks, and she adjusts her camera strap as we pass the logo at centerfield. “How’s that going?”
“It’s great. His daughter, June, is four. Have you met her? She hangs out in the nursery during games, and the cutest girl I’ve ever met.”
“No, but I’ve heard about her. He’s private about his personal life, and it’s been that way the whole time I’ve been here. It’s so different from what I’m used to seeing. Guys like him—the ones who know they’re hot—always tend to be boastful about their conquests. They parade women in and out of the stadium like a flavor of the week. Not Dallas, though. He’s a mystery I can’t figure out.”
I bite my tongue and hold back from telling her I have him figured out.
Sort of.
I’ve learned what gets him riled up. I know that he’s never greedy about anything in life—he’s the most selfless man I’ve ever encountered. But when he looks at me, it’s like he’s allowing himself to be selfish for the first time.
I can still feel the phantom touch of his mouth on my body. The soft, warm kiss he pressed to my ribs and the way he sucked on my skin. He left behind a little pink mark I stared at for too long the morning after, wondering what a matching one would look like between my thighs or on the column of my neck.
He was sohard.His length strained against his briefs and left nothing to the imagination. It was as if touching me got him excited, and I almost hooked my leg around his waist and pulled my shorts off so he could sink into me.
It would have been good.
Deliciouslygood, because everything he does is magical, a gentle soul who would take his time. Who would listen and learn and be thorough, making sure to take care of me before taking care of himself.
I’m so attracted to him, and it’s not just a physical pull when he takes off his sweatpants. It’s not just when his inked skin is on display or when the tension between us grows to a near breaking point.
It’s there in the quieter moments too. The mundane moments. The smaller, less assuming moments like when he hugs me when he gets home from the stadium then nudges me away from the stove, a teasing grin sliding into place. The secret moments when he looks at me when he jogs on the field and lifts his chin in greeting, a new addition to his warmup routine that wasn’t there in the preseason.
He's slotted his way into my life and I’ve slotted my way into his. It’s funny to hear people call him a mystery when he’s become the most sure thing I’ve ever known.
