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I laugh, although it’s with little humor. “Same.”
He reaches between my legs and wipes me clean. His touch there makes me shiver, but I tell myself to get it together. After another moment to catch my breath, I rearrange my clothes and then bend down to look for my purse. I dropped it at some point. I think about the time he kissed me.
By the time I locate the thing, halfway under the runner of Reese’s SUV, Nick has cleaned himself up. His jeans are fine, but his shirt looks like it was chewed on by a dog. I’d crumpled it in an effort to touch his skin.
“Sorry about your shirt,” I say quietly.
“I’m not.” He smooths a hand over the front, but it doesn’t do any good.
I spot a dozen fingerprints on the window of Reese’s vehicle. Groaning, I try to rub an arm across the side of the glass, but I only serve to make it worse.
Nick snorts. “Reese would approve. I’ll take it to the car wash tomorrow.”
“All right.” I drop my arm. Now that the rush of passion has passed, the shame washes over me. This is the kind of girl I am. I have sex in parking lots with random guys. No, quarterbacks. Maybe I do have a fetish. I wanted to live my life to make my daughter proud. This isn’t it. This isn’t it at all.
“What’s wrong?”
“I—this. This whole thing was wrong.” My throat grows tight. What was I thinking?
“Stop it,” Nick orders. His voice is uncharacteristically sharp. My head jerks up to meet his gaze. “Stop telling yourself that this was wrong. Sex out here in the parking lot is the same as sex in the bedroom. Only sometimes it’s hotter.” He winks.
A blush floods my entire body. The whole hand over the mouth thing and telling me to be quiet? I will be replaying that on my deathbed.
Still, I can’t be stupid about this—whatever this is. Being in a relationship with a pro player means being in the public eye and my past can’t stand that type of scrutiny.
A rock forms in my stomach. At some point, I’m going to have to tell Nick something about Chip and Cass and me. That’s not a talk I ever wanted to have.
“What’s wrong?” Nick asks.
“Nothing.” Suddenly, I’m exhausted. “I think I need to go. Dani will want to get home.”
“You know I’m not in this for a one-time thing. I care about you. I care about Cassidy.”
I search his eyes and the earnestness there gives me courage. “You’re filling up space in my heart I thought only belonged to my daughter.”
“That’s enough for me.” He pulls open the passenger door of his Porsche Spyder, a low-slung sports car that he barely fits into, and tucks me inside.
Nick slides in next to me and guns the engine. The powerful motor sends a vibration through the entire vehicle and my extra-sensitive parts feel it everywhere. I can’t help but squirm in my seat, which prompts Nick to shoot a dark, heated look in my direction.
Tomorrow I’m going to have to figure out this Chip thing. I need to make peace with him before I can move forward with Nick. “I need…some time to get things squared away. Can we keep this between us? Just for a little while.”
“Yeah, for a little while,” he says quietly. He reaches a hand across the console and grips mine, and I let out the breath I’d been holding.
When I’m next to Nick, I believe that everything can all be right.
Chapter Twenty
Nick
“How’s the thumb?” Coach Zupp asks as we settle in for our pre-game planning session. I’d fallen at practice trying to get away from a tackler. Our first game is this weekend. I set aside a pair of tickets for Lainey and Cass, but I don’t think she’ll use them. She’s been cagey since our night in the parking lot and I’m worried if I push her too hard, she’ll get scared and run off. I don’t want to lose the progress I’ve made.
“The offensive line needs to step up,” Chip interjects loudly.
I toss him a disapproving glare. We stand, or fall, together as a team, which means there’s no blame spreading. I’d forgotten that Chip always looked out for his own skin, but that’s not how I run this crew.
“O-line did a great job. I just need to release the ball faster,” I remind him.
His already thin lips disappear into a flat line. He doesn’t like being challenged in front of a coach. On the flip side, our O-line coach gives a grunt of approval.
Zupp’s chair scrapes the floor as he leans back and flips on the projector. “Our first game is against the San Francisco Golds, which means we will be facing one of the league’s best pass rushers—Taye Williams. The game plan is going to be quick releases, short passes, and screens to take away some of the speed of the defense.” He points a finger at our center. “Double team on the defensive end at all times. and you.” Zupp turns to me. “No heroics. Lay down in the backfield if you see him coming. Williams took out two quarterbacks last year. We don’t need you to be his third casualty.”
