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“Bye.”

I walked over to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup. When had I become this man? I was so fucking crazy about her, I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t want another woman. I didn’t care about the poker games anymore. Nothing mattered to me other than football and Lennon.

I leaned against the kitchen counter. Maybe it was all the drugs pumping through my system, or maybe this was the side effect of falling for Dr. Ashworth.

20

Lennon

We would be landing in D.C. in twenty minutes. I fidgeted with my cocktail napkin and looked out the window as the plane began to descend. I should have told him. I thought about it all week. And what Gloria had said was true. Playoffs were a time we’d never see each other.

He crawled into bed so late I didn’t know what time it was, and it wasn’t really the right time to tell him I’d left an ex of a live-in relationship behind in the city we were traveling to. Besides, would Wes even care? He’d never asked about my past. It was as if we had some unspoken rule about talking about our previous lives.

I tried to push Ben out of my head. D.C. was a huge city and there was no reason to see him or relive the hurtful memories. I was happy with Wes.

I pulled my luggage behind me down the jetway and looked for the sign with my name. Wes liked to arrange cars for me.

But when I saw the driver holding this one, my jaw dropped.

“What are you doing here?” I ran and jumped in his arms.

“Shh. Don’t blow my cover.” He kissed me quickly and picked up my bag. “Apparently Sharks fans haven’t noticed me with this hat on.”

I laughed. He was one of the most recognizable people in the country.

“How did you get away from the team meeting?”

“Hasn’t started yet. Our flight got in an hour earlier, so I thought I’d wait for you here. We can ride to the hotel together.”

He ushered me into a long black car that was waiting for us by the curb. “I love this surprise.”

“Everyone’s all ramped up about the game tomorrow.” He leaned into the leather seats. “Coach, Stubbs, Hickson.”

I threaded my fingers through his str

ong hands. “You know no matter what happens, it’s going to be okay.”

He flinched. “We are going to win.”

“Well, right. I mean, you’re going to win, and then we go to the next play off game and the next. Wait, how many games are there before the Super Bowl?”

He laughed. “For a brilliant woman, I like it when you don’t know shit about something.”

“Hey.” I punched him in the leg.

“Fuck.” He grabbed at his thigh.

“Sorry. Did I do something? I didn’t mean to hit you hard.”

He shook his head. “No, no, just a muscle cramp.”

I looked at him suspiciously, but the car pulled up and I didn’t have a chance to question him. The driver deposited our bags on the curb and I followed Wes into the hotel.

“I’ll take you up to the room and you can rest or read. And then I’ll pick you up for dinner at seven. Sound good?” We rode in the elevator to the top floor.

“Okay. I might go out for a walk or something.”

“Sure. Here’s the room key.” He handed it to me. “You brought that slutty dress of yours, didn’t you?”

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