His pursed lips told me enough. He didn’t believe me.
“I like you being here,” I continued. “And if I screw up or we don’t make it any further or don’t win the championship, then that’s on me and the team.” The intensity of his stare didn’t waver. Fuck. I forced my muscles to relax and pulled out a smirk. “You know, some studies have shown orgasms help improve a player’s game. Something about endorphins and relaxation or something.”
He still wasn’t buying it, but me followIng up with how he and Lottie being here made my house feel like a home for the first time ever, and me wanting to win for him and to make Lottie proud didn’t seem like the best idea. While for me, we had been in the making for years, I knew it was different for him.
“What studies?” The arched brow called bullshit.
“Studies from smart-as-fuck sciency people.” I edged closer, only stopping so I didn’t fall off the bed. “I promise I’ll go running and stick to my routine,” I relented. Not that it was a hardship. Did I want as many moments with Eddie as possible? Of course I did. I also wanted to win the championship.
He studied me, his warm breath brushing across my skin, his mouth deliciously close to mine. “You promise?”
“I promise. And I have fifteen minutes before I have to leave, so I’m happy to seal it with a bj.”
He snorted, finally, and my heart raced for a different reason when he leaned in, captured my mouth, and his deft fingers dipped beneath the waistband of my training shorts.
* * *
Between practice,traveling, kicking ass at games, the buildup to our final round one game, and spending time with Lottie and Eddie whenever I got the chance, I went to bed exhausted each night. Admittedly it was the best type of exhausted, one where I smirked in post-orgasm glow the nights I was home. What didn’t happen, though, was sleeping next to the man I was desperate to curl around.
And while I understood his reluctance to share our new, still-yet-to-be-clarified relationship status, it didn’t stop me pouting every night when Eddie skulked to his room. It didn’t help that he and Lottie were flying back home tomorrow either.
Lottie’s temp was right on the normal mark, too, which meant she’d joined her dad for tonight’s game. They were courtside. I figured there’d be less chance of her getting caught up in the hustle and bustle of the crowd.
I dragged the towel over my face while listening to Coach. We were in the final time-out of overtime. Perhaps League fans loved the thrill of this extra time in a playoff game, but fuck, I hated it.
The pressure was on, and with sweat rolling down my back and my pulse pounding loudly in my ears, it took every ounce of control I had to focus on Coach’s words.
“—let Bradshaw get a touch. Marlow, stick to Hender like glue. You’ve got a minute to make this happen.”
“We’ve got this, Coach.” Ollie’s tone left no room for doubt. Like the man, his voice was firm, solid. Damn, our captain held a conviction that was enviable. He scanned our team, making the briefest of eye contact with all of us, then it was game on.
We headed back onto the court. I cracked my neck and focused on Johnstone on the opposing team. The fucker would not be racking up more points if I had any say in it.
The whistle blew, and I moved. The sound of the crowd became white noise as I zoned in on the play, the ball. Seeing my chance, I stole the ball, a rush of adrenaline jolting me into action when my hands connected with leather.
With no time to hesitate, I shifted, dribbled, half of my attention on the pass, the other on Hender, who was coming at me. Cassius opened for me, and I passed, fast and smooth, a leap in my chest turning to fucking joy when he caught, shifted, and shot a three-pointer.
I was already all over Bradshaw like white on rice as their swingman bound ahead. The turn of his shoulder told me his plan, and thank Christ Cassius intercepted. Spinning so fast the room blurred, I met Cassius step for step, covering him as much as possible. Joel broke free, and the sweet fucking genius Cassius was all but flew in Joel’s direction, feet barely touching the floor. A split second later, Joel had the ball in hand and scored.
Fifteen seconds, give or take. There was no time to check the clock.
And we were moving, feet hammering, hearts blazing, desperate for the ball. A rebound, a miss, and we had possession. With each step, each move I made, I counted down, sure any second now, the game would be called.
And we lost the ball, Hender grabbing two points in the next breath. But we were still up. Like hell would I let them score again. Duncan made the pass, and I swiped the ball from the air, long strides taking me toward our basket. Blue jerseys were everywhere, blocking my path. They could blur my vision in color all they wanted. The longer the ball was in my hands, the closer we were to time.
Yellow appeared at my side. Ollie. The ball was in his grip before I could rethink my options, and the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game and the Eagles officially in the semis.
I whooped, hollered, Ollie crashing into me, Cassius a second later. “Fuck, man.” I ruffled Cassius’s hair, grinning wide as we parted. He didn’t even swat me away, his own exuberance rivalling my own.
We clapped, and cheered, and did the obligatory rounds. It was at least three long minutes before I sought out Eddie. Still seated, his gaze was already on me, a wide smile on his face. He held Lottie’s hand, and I kinda expected that was to make her stay in her seat.
“Where you going?”
Cassius’s voice caught me short, not having realized I’d started to move away and in Eddie’s direction.
I didn’t have time to answer before his attention moved, clocking Eddie, and he snorted and shook his head. “Fuck, man, I really hope you’re getting some since you’re so damn whipped.”
The urge to flip him off rode me, but that was the sort of shit that would end up in the media and get me in trouble with PR. “Screw you,” I mouthed, earning me a laugh.
