God, I never knew him to be such a romantic. I could get used to this.
Actually, that’s the problem. Iwantto get used to this.
Dinner starts. The topic of conversation is our plans after dinner; people talk over each other, laughter bounces around the table, and at some point, Coach announces that the players not based in Nigeria won’t have to travel back with the team immediately. Instead, we’ll be contacted later about when we’re expected to meet the president—since he apparently wants to host us. I only absorb half of what is being said, the rest of my attention is completely occupied by the man sitting beside me.
Johnson looks unfairly hot under the restaurant lights. I can’t stop checking him out, and every time our eyes meet, he gives me a small wink that sends a ridiculous amount of want through me. While everyone else is busy talking about travelplans, his hand slides across my thigh under the table, and my entire body goes still as he lets his fingers move dangerously close to my groin before stopping. The fucker has a straight face, talking to Alozie across the table like he didn’t just put me through torture.
Dinner eventually winds down, with conversations breaking off into smaller groups. Coach leaves first, clapping those of us nearest to him on the shoulder as he excuses himself for the night. After he leaves, the rest of us decide to head up to the rooftop for drinks.
I’m sitting alone on the rooftop, nursing my drink and trying to figure out how the fuck I’m going to get Johnson alone tonight that I didn’t notice someone sliding into the seat next to me.
“Can you be more obvious?” Bayero asks, chuckling.
I whip my head towards him and freeze, already digging through a bullshit excuse I can throw out without looking dumb.
“Relax,” he says, patting my back. “He’s been looking at you like he wants to eat you up all evening.”
A big smile spreads across my face before I can even think of stopping it. “Yeah, how can you tell?”
“Because when we won the AFCON,” he says with a small shrug, “he didn’t take us out to celebrate.” He glances towards Johnson, who’s laughing on the other side of the rooftop with Akintola. “And I know how it feels when you can’t be with the person you want openly.”
My brain scrambles around before what he’s saying clicks. “You and Akintola?” I whisper, trying not to sound shocked, but I can feel my voice pitching higher than intended.
He shrugs again. “Five years now.” He reaches into his pocket and hands me a keycard with a smirk. “Room 514. I’ll tell you that story another time. But for tonight, go get your man.”
19
AUSTIN
—Love in the Dark
by Adele
I lockeyes with Johnson across the rooftop and beckon him over. He doesn’t ask any questions as we head outside and straight to a waiting cab.
We pay and throw a hurried thanks to the driver when we reach the hotel, and Johnson nods for me to go inside first. My heart is beating faster than usual, and it isn’t until I’m in the elevator that I try to remember the room number. I press the button for the fifth floor, which is the same floor as my assigned room. When I reach my destination, I slot the card into the lock and open it. And then I freeze.
Red and white roses are everywhere, scattered across the floor and along the edges of the bed. On the mattress, they form a perfect heart shape, petals looking soft against the sheet. My chest hammers in my ribcage as I stand there, drinking it all in.
There is no way I’m letting this man go, not ever.
Before I can fully process it, he sneaks up behind me and gives me a light shove, just enough to get me past the thresholdand fully into the room. Once the door closes, he drops his suit jacket on the floor and turns to me.
“Do you not like it? Is it too much?”
The panic threading through his voice is enough to take me out of my trance. I lunge at him, and he catches me in his strong arms. “Why wouldn’t I like it?” I whisper, pressing into him. “This is so perfect. I wouldn’t have taken you for a romantic.”
He chuckles and guides us to sit on the edge of the bed. “I just wanted to do something nice for you before we leave,” he says, running his hands down my back.
The sinking feeling that started in the locker room, the one that I forced to lie dormant throughout dinner, flares again.Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
“You know there’s no reason we can’t see each other in London, yeah?” I ask, trying to sound casual, but my voice betrays me.
He stiffens beneath me. “I don’t see how that’s possible,” he says, and I hear the pain beneath his words.
He clearly hasn’t thought this through like I have. There’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. If I come up with a plan, I know he’ll come around. “We can always find a way,” I tell him, pressing my head against his chest. “If you’re down, I can figure something out.”
He shakes his head. “I thought there was an understanding about what this is.”
