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Wren wrinkled her nose as she thumbed through the pages. “So… The team wants us to what? Fake being together?” She couldn’t have sounded more disgusted if she had tried.
“No,” Coach Tyson said amicably, though he left no room for argument. “Don’t lie on camera, and you both are still required to abide by the code of conduct.”
“However,” the kid with the phone said. “Since the video went viral, season ticket sales have gone through the roof, and merchandise is selling out. A little chemistry when you’re talking about what happened will keep the good press rolling. People aren’t just invested in Rhode Island football now. They’re invested in you two. In your story. Talk about the tackle, lean into the narrative that this video spins, play nice for the cameras, and encourage viewers to cheer for the Red Cocks.”
I eyed Coach. “And I’m supposed to lose practice time to perform in this media circus?”
Coach Tyson put his hands out in defense. “Coach Williams agrees with the plan. It’s good PR, and a day of interviews in the city won’t mess with your mojo. And it’ll give McBride a chance to work with the starters on Monday.”
Catching a whiff of my B.O., Sam wrinkled her nose. “Geez. Go take a shower.”
“Wren, do you have someone who can drive you home?” Catherine asked.
“I—”
Wren pinched the back of my thigh before I could finish my sentence. “I’ll ask Jewel to give me a ride.”
By a miracle, I managed to keep my mouth shut, though I nearly cracked a tooth from clenching my jaw. I wanted to be the one to take her home—to my home. I wanted to be the one to make sure she stayed in bed and rested. I wanted to be the one to get her ice for her knee and ibuprofen for her head. I wanted to see her in ratty sweatpants, with her hair tied up, and no makeup on.
I wanted all of it, and I couldn’t have it.
But I was prepared to fight for it—and her.
When the conversation in the quiet room was through, Coach escorted me back to the locker room, talking about the game and the adjustments he thought we needed to make with our fourth-quarter strategy.
I showered and changed into my street clothes. Usually, I would have played nice with the reporters milling around after the game. But, since I was being forced to sit still and look pretty for the cameras for the next few days, I needed a fucking minute to think.
Holy shit.My world had just been spun like a tilt-a-whirl.
I ignored the flood of messages from my father and checked to see if Wren had responded to the text I sent her. I didn’t know if she’d gone back to the Ladies’ locker room and gotten her phone yet. Or maybe she was already home and resting.
All I knew was that I needed to see her and hold her.
I told Gideon and Theo that my girl had something come up and couldn’t make it over to my place after the game. A white lie, but I didn’t feel like explaining the twilight zone that today had been.
Reporters with microphones and paparazzi with their obnoxious cameras were waiting outside my building. I pressed my foot on the gas and looped around the block. Five minutes later, I found myself outside Wren’s building. I hadn’t driven there intentionally. I just wanted a break from the vultures. But she was where my subconscious had taken me.
Instead of parking in front of her apartment building, I swung into the Dunkin’ two blocks over. I didn’t know if the lurkers outside my place had my license plate number, but I didn’t want to risk being spotted in front of Wren’s residence.
When attempting to woo the woman you had already wooed, it was best not to come empty-handed. I left the doughnut shop carrying an oversized iced coffee and walked to Wren’s apartment.
I pressed the button to buzz her unit and was pleasantly surprised when the magnetic lock on the building door immediately opened. “‘Scuse me, young man,” an elderly woman in a Red Cocks sweatshirt said as she hobbled out.” I caught the top of the door with my hand, holding it for her as a dog that was more the size of a small elephant barreled out and greeted me with a boof!
So, maybe Wren hadn’t buzzed me in. Now was not the time to think about it. I took the elderly lady and her fluffy pet rhinoceros as a sign from the universe and jogged up the stairs.
I tapped my knuckles on Wren’s door, praying she wasn’t asleep. Did she have someone staying with her? Would I be putting her position with the Ladies in Red even further in jeopardy? Shit.
Before I could bail, the door opened, and Wren stared wide-eyed at me. “What are you—”
I pushed my way in, backing her into the apartment and dropping the iced coffee on an entryway table as I cupped her cheeks and kissed her senseless. The kiss wasn’t nearly as gentle as it should have been, given the fact that I’d nearly crushed her like a wrecking ball earlier. She was probably bruised and sore.
I kicked the door shut with the sole of my sneaker as I worked her lips in a powerful massage. Wren melted into my arms and returned the kiss with a quiet moan. I tangled my fingers in the back of her hair, holding her head steady as I explored her lips. She tasted like Gatorade and lust. I’d never considered a sports drink to be an effective aphrodisiac, but here I was, defenseless against the taste of fruit punch clinging to her lips.
“Tatum,” she whispered, pulling away for a necessary breath.
A breath was the only space I gave her. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my chest. “I’m so sorry. Shit, baby… I… I could’ve really fucking hurt you.”
“Hey.” Her quiet voice was a balm to my racing heart. “It was a freak accident. And now…” She deflated like an accordion and dropped her head into her hands. “This is such a mess…”
