I swallow my pizza. "Yes, he has," I lie and then I truthfully say, "But he didn't tell me what you looked like. And there hasn't been a whole lot of talking going on between us."
Shit! I'm sitting with his family? The dumbass could've warned me beforehand!
"That I believe," he says with another chuckle. "But sorry to let you down, sweetheart, you're not his girlfriend and never will be. He probably didn’t remember your name this morning."
Wow. They are definitely not buying this huge mountain of shit I’m selling.
I look out onto the field where the players are all warming up, looking for number...what was it? I glance down and see that it's eighty-six. When I find Jake, he's just running around in sort of a circle, catching balls, so I decide to do something drastic to prove my point. If his family doesn’t think we’re the real deal then no one else will either, and I want that hundred grand.
I sit my plate on the ground and wipe my hands on a napkin before I get up from my seat, taking the cement steps all the way down to the wall separating the fans from the field. Then I yell for him, "Jake!"
After the third time I shout his name he finally turns his helmet in my direction. I can't see his expression this far away, but I'd guess he's probably annoyed when he jogs over.
"Nice jersey, thief. Now what the fuck do you want?" He asks quietly, removing his helmet when he's standing in front of me. All the bulky pads covered with the black and blue team uniform make him seem even bigger and...hotter. I force myself to stop ogling the arrogant man’s body and focus instead of the problem at hand.
"You could've warned me I'd be sitting with your brothers! They think I'm lying about our relationship, and that won't do. We've got to make this look legit."
"So what the fuck do you want me to do? Tattoo your name across my forehead?"
"Kiss me," I say, and then snap my mouth closed, shocking even myself.
"Huh?" Jake asks, scratching the back of his head. "I thought you said I can't touch you."
"Only for appearances in public."
"Oh," he mutters, tossing his helmet to the ground. "Well in that case..." He grabs my face between both of his gigantic hands and almost pulls me over the damn wall with the amount of force he uses. Then I'm no longer worried about falling because his lips are on mine, causing a jolt of pure bliss to spiral through me, penetrating down to my soul.
What the hell? Where did that come from?
My mouth opens on its own, letting his tongue sweep inside and stroke mine, hard and frantic while I grip his shoulder pads with both hands. His forcefulness reminds me of the way he was fucking that girl on the copy machine yesterday. Hot and so freaking intense, almost...angry. Ah, yes, that's what it is. He's pouring his loathing for me into my mouth, so I give it back to him just as good as I get it. Bring it on, buddy! The arrogant, foul, jackass. I can't stand this man! The only thing I like about him at the moment is the way he kisses. He should be an amazing kisser based on the sheer number of women he's practiced on. The nasty thought of the herpes virus, and who knows what other STDs he could've come into contact with from screwing every woman in sight, finally has me pulling back.
Jake's breathing heavy as his dark, soulless eyes look at me a second before they go up the stands. He pastes on a fake smile and raises a hand, probably to his family, at the same time he grumbles, "Are we done now?"
"Yeah, Jake-ass, I'm pretty sure they bought it," I say, based on the amount of hoots and catcalls I hear in the background. "Yes, we’re even on the jumbotron!"
"Later, bitch." He grabs his helmet and runs back over to the rest of the players, who are heading off the field.
When I turn around, the entire section with hundreds of fans are staring at me, most with mouths hanging open in shock. I smile proudly and slap a few high fives on the way back to my seat, and then guzzle my beer to try and wash away the taste of his yummy, lemony kiss.
"Told you so," I say to his brothers, who look the most surprised of everyone.
"Who are you, and what kind of pussy voodoo have you done on our brother?" Jordan asks.
That comment has me snorting. "Addison James," I say, offering him a handshake. He formally introduces me to the rest of the guys, who lean away and give me sideways glances. It’s like they don't want to get too close because they're scared my witchy ways might rub off on them and make them settle down. Now that I know, I'm not sure how I missed the resemblance. All four men have the same exact dark eyes with only minor variations in their size and devastatingly good looks. I bet Jake's not the only player in his family.