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“Ha! Look who’s talking!” I poke him in the chest.
We stare at each other, our chests rising and falling. We’re so close that I smell his minty breath. My lips tingle when his gaze dips down to them and I fight not to moan when his tongue slides along his bottom lip.
His head dips, my head rises, and all of a sudden his lips are on mine and my hands are pushing into his sweaty hair. He plunges his tongue into my mouth, not waiting for an invitation. I open to him with a moan, arching my chest to press against his when his tongue strokes mine.
God, he tastes just like I remember.
I pull back for a moment and look him square in the eyes. “This changes nothing.”
“I know.” Then his lips crash against mine again and his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me flush to his body.
Just like in college, I lose myself completely in him. The rest of the world fades away—the fact that what we’re doing is forbidden, the fact that we’re in a team facility, the fact that this is a spectacularly bad idea.
I’ve already proven to myself that I easily fall into the rabbit hole that is Lee Burrows, and even if he has changed, I don’t ever want someone to control my feelings like he did back then. Relying on this man for my happiness will only lead to heartbreak.
With that thought, I unwind my hands from his hair and push against his chest.
He doesn’t try to prolong the kiss, and he lets me step back from him.
I stare at him with wide eyes, lips still tingling.
He opens his mouth to say something, but I can’t hear what he’s going to say and still walk away from him.
“That was a mistake.” I push past him.
He must agree because he doesn’t fight me, but rather squeezes to the side of the treadmill, allowing me to pass. I rush over to where I left my bag and race out of there as though the devil is chasing me.
Seventeen
Lee
Shayna’s the one avoiding me now. You’d think she was the president from how many times I’ve tried to get her alone to apologize to her for kissing her last week.
She surrounds herself with people all the time, and when we’re done with practice for the day, she races out of the building before I can chase her. Bryce was here earlier this week to interview some of the players, and when I asked her if she could pass along Shayna’s number, she looked at me as though I’d asked her if she knew where I could buy meth.
Whatever, none of that matters. It’s game day again and we’re in Los Angeles. We only have seventeen regular season games, so we have to make every single one of them count. I don’t want us going into next week down two games this season.
We perform decently during the first half, the score zero to eight, but our luck is about to change early in the third. We have possession of the ball. It’s fourth down with five yards to go to score our first down, and I call a play that has Brady faking left but then breaking off right to catch my pass.
It’s risky. We could try to run the ball, but Los Angeles’s offensive line has been tight this afternoon and we’re better off trying to move the ball up the field with a pass.
Our center snaps the ball to me and I pretend to look left, the direction we want Los Angeles to think Brady is headed. When he breaks right, one of the Los Angeles players is on him and manages to stay between Brady and me.
I pull my arm back to throw but hold on to the ball a beat to see if Brady can get into a better position. The last thing we can afford is a fucking interception right now.
Finally, Brady gets in a better position and I snap my arm all the way back and throw the ball. A sharp pain stabs my arm, then one of Los Angeles’s players tackles me from the right.
The crowd roars but quiets down, seeing that I’m sprawled out on the field, clutching my right shoulder, rocking back and forth.
My Kingsmen teammates gather around me and call for medical to come out on the field.
Miles kneels beside me, concern overfilling his eyes. “What happened?”
“My fucking shoulder.” I move my arm and groan when a lightning bolt of pain races up my arm and through my shoulder.
“Just take it easy.” He looks to the sidelines. “Frampton’s coming.”
Seconds later, Dr. Frampton appears by my side, along with some of the other more senior medical staff. “Talk to me, Lee.”
