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She mumbles in my ear, “I want you to fuck me. You’ve been playing the field, and that’s okay. But I want what you’re packing.” She can’t keep her eyes open, and she believes it’s a perfect time to have sex. I shake my head in disbelief. “I’ve heard stories about your package.” Erika doesn’t have to throw herself at me—I like her when she’s not drunk. But only as a friend.
Whatever she’s heard, someone made up. My dick has stayed firmly in my pants.
Women have been forward with me before, but nothing like this. It should be a turn on, but all I can think about is Adalee. The way she didn’t have to say a word to make my heart explode in thunderous beats like a racehorse in the final stretch of the Kentucky Derby.
“Dude, you love slopping up my seconds?” Chaz laughs. “She’s a clinger and a talker. I’m sure Adalee would love to see this.” He takes out his phone and snaps a picture, practically skipping as he heads inside the house.
I push Erika away, but she goes limp, and I have to hold on to her waist to keep her from face planting in the grass. A few people stop by, and I ask who she came with, but no one knows. I slip my phone out of pocket with one hand and text some of my teammates to see if she’s here with friends.
Finally, Joe comes over. “Hey, when did you get here? And I see you’re making good on your promise to make some rumors come true.” He half-snorts as he takes a drink.
“Ten minutes ago. If you and Ginger are going to back to her house, take Erika home.”
“Can’t man. Ginger is in my room, sick. She’s been puking since we came back from the game. The hot dog didn’t look good. It was dark gray, but she ate it anyway. Those red heads, when they make up their mind, there’s no stopping them. I had to hold her hair and wipe her face. It’s tough shit, man.”
I smile because Joe’s in love. “Yet you took care of her like it’s a badge of honor.” It’s my understanding, they haven’t exchanged those three scary words,but he’s definitely all-in. Joe’s a great guy. Parties one or two nights a week but not heavy and never gets wasted.
He nods. “Yeah, I love taking care of her.” He looks up at the sky as if he’s listening to the universe speak to him. “If taking care of her is the last thing I do on earth, it will be a life that was worth living.”
I smack his arm with my free hand. “Damn man, that was deep. How many have you had?”
“Just one. Here’s your key back, if you want to take Erika home.” He dangles the keys and drops them into my palm. “I parked around the corner.”
I shake my head in disgust. “Why me?”
“Because we both know you’re one of the good guys,” he states with a sincere tone. “Plus, you might see Adalee. That girl is different when you’re around; it’s like she tightens up when she’s in Hagan Chatham’s vicinity.” He takes a pull of beer and then continues. “She either has it bad for you or she really hates you.”
Tell me something I don’t know.
I raise Erika up a little because she was slipping from my grip before I say, “She’s with Logan at my house.” I emphasize the word my.
Joe’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Like with him, with him?”
I shrug. Logan told me they were just friends, and if she thinks I’m a player, she has to realize he actually is one. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. He called me to pick him up at the stadium, but you had my car, so I guess he called her. Can you help me get Erika to the car?”
Joe sets his beer down in the grass and pulls one of her arms over his shoulder. We have our arms around her waist as we head to my car. He helps hoist her up into the seat and buckles her in, then closes the door. I slide into the driver’s side as he slaps the window. “Be safe.”
A few minutes later, I’m carrying Erika to her apartment. I knock and ring the doorbell, and no one is home. She’s been passed out since Joe and I were talking at the party. I check her pockets for keys with no luck.
It’s frustrating because I have fall camp early in the morning for position drills. She must have come with someone and I’m the one taking care of her. But I always think what if this was my sister? What if this was Hap? Somebody better handle her like she’s a crystal wine goblet at Buckingham Palace—withkeep your fucking hands to yourselfgloves. So, I wait and wait while Erika sleeps and snores on my shoulder.
An hour passes and I’m thinking of hauling her back down and taking her to my place when a car stops in front of her building. Hopefully, her roommates have returned home. I pick Erika up and walk to the balcony, but it’s not Erika’s roommates—it’s Adalee.
She has this little pink leather wristlet wrapped around that same silken skin that my lips caressed only hours ago. She’s singing something. The words get lost as they drift through the air, but her lips are moving. She singing to herself. I wonder what her favorite song is, whether she likes pop or country. Is she from Kentucky? There’s so much I want to learn about her.
Her apartment is underneath Erika’s on the bottom floor. She steps over the curb and is startled by Erika moaning. Fan-fucking-tastic. Just my luck, she would spot me with Erika in this condition. She looks up and her sing-song smile dissolves into narrowed eyes and lips pressed together in a thin line.
I don’t have a choice. I have to ask for Adalee’s help. “Hey, can you help me out?”
Even from ten feet up, I can see the way her face tightens. She may need a mouth guard the way she’s grinding her teeth. Then she gets a smirk on that pretty little face and that cute button nose squinches up a little.
“I’m not into three-ways, except for chili.”
I do like her sarcasm. Trouble is, I can’t figure out if she’s flirting orjust hates life. “Adalee, whatever you think of me. I’m not the bad guy here. Can you please help yourfriend, Erika?” I stress the word friend.
She huffs. “What do you want me to do?”
“I’ve been waiting for her roommates to come home for an hour. Can she sleep at your place?”
