We lost. The season’s over. And it’s my fault.
I roll onto my back, holding my right arm tightly across my body to keep my shoulder steady, my left hand coming up to grip my facemask. The trainers and coaches are already making their way onto the field to assess my injuries, but before they reach me, I roll my head to the left.
I thought she would have started making her way out of the stadium already, but she’s still there. Julie’s friends are all talking around her, but she is looking straight at me. Our eyes lock again, and despite the throbbing in my shoulder and theweight of the loss bearing down on me, with her eyes on mine, everything inside me settles.
A second later, team staff surround me, blocking my view of Julie. By the time they help me up and I start walking off the field, she’s already gone, taking all my calm with her.
Chapter Five
Julie
People and conversation fill the Renegades friends and family room. Kids chase each other around and steal cookies off the well-stocked buffet tables, supervised by exhausted-looking moms in bedazzled jerseys emblazoned with their husbands’ names and numbers.
Jordan and Allie had to leave early since they both have a night shift at the hospital, but everyone else is occupied. Jeremy knows practically everyone in the room and is carrying on what looks like four conversations at once. Ben is curled up with Hallie on a couch, whispering something in her ear. Emma is leaning against a wall like she’s trying to disappear into it, and Molly is surrounded by a group of what looks like rookie players who are hanging on her every word.
Every time the door to the room opens, my anxiety spikes. I’m not even sure Asher’s coming, and I don’t know whether the anxiety is because he’s not here yet or because I hope he never shows. I’ve been replaying the moment our eyes met on the field over and over for the last hour and a half. He was at least two hundred feet away from me, but the distance didn’tdull the zing of awareness in my blood as his sky-blue eyes locked on mine. Or the full body flush when he winked and blew me that kiss.
I hate myself for it—the idea that a wink and a kiss from a football player stirred me up like I’m a fucking cleat-chaser or something. My only saving grace is that no one seemed to notice the kiss was directed to me, thank fucking god.
And I hate myself even more that when he took the hit on the final play of the game, my feet glued themselves to the stadium floor. God herself couldn’t have made me leave my spot. When he rolled his head towards me, and our eyes met again, I could practically see the pain swimming in his gaze, and all I could think was how much he probably hates being vulnerable like that, displaying his pain to the world. I know I would. Hating my soft thoughts towards him, as soon as I saw him sit up and shake out his shoulder, I ran out of our section like my ass was on fire, muttering to Hallie about needing the bathroom.
The chatter around the room is that he tweaked his shoulder when he fell on it, but nothing is torn or broken. Since this was the last game of the season, no one seems particularly worried about it. My relief is embarrassing.
“I saw it, you know.”
Thoughts broken, I whirl around to find Molly standing in front of me, a satisfied smirk on her face.
“Saw what?”
“That it was you he was blowing that kiss to.”
Fucking hell. Deflect, Jules.
“It really wasn’t. He was too far away. It could have been to anyone.”
“It could have been, but it wasn’t. That was some intense eye contact. I was sure one of you was going to spontaneously combust.”
“Keep your voice down,” I hiss at her, glancing around the room for eavesdroppers. Not only do I not want anyone to hear this conversation because, embarrassing, but I’m part owner of a brand-new law firm, and no one wants their estate planning attorney to be gushing about some professional athlete.
“Calm down, Jules. No one is paying attention to you now and they weren’t paying attention to you then.”
Relief shudders through me. “No one else saw?”
Molly grins triumphantly. “So, you admit it was you he was looking at.”
“I admit nothing.”
“Okay, sure. We’ll go with that. But that man was hot as fuck in July and he’s even hotter now. The football season has been kind to him. Did you see his ass in those uniform pants?”
Yeah I did. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from responding.
“I thought you should fuck him back then and I still think it now. No one needs professional athlete sex more than you do. You need a better hobby than ordering us around the office and coming in on Saturday morning to work.”
I get a flash of Asher and me rolling around, tangled in my sheets, but shake it away before it can materialize any further. “No thanks. I didn’t have time in my life for an athlete six months ago, and I definitely don’t have time for one now.”
“Jules, everyone has time for athlete sex. And if you don’t have time, you should make time.”
With that, she flounces away, heading towards Emma to, I’m sure, try and coax her away from the wall. I would rather die than admit it to her, but Molly is the best at knowing what we all need, even if I sometimes hate her a little for it. She’s not wrong that I could use a night of no strings athlete sex in theory, but in reality, I’m exhausted even thinking about it. All the performing and worrying about what I’m wearing and whatI smell like and whether my body is angled right and if he’s enjoying himself and trying to make sure I fake it well because if I don’t, I’ll have to deal with a manchild sized bruised ego. I’d rather just use a vibrator. It never cares what I look like, and it always gets me off.
