We alternated between kissing slowly and kissing passionately for several minutes. But we never moved away from that front room. I think we both knew what would happen if we did. And she wasn’t ready. I was ready. I mean, damn, she was sucking face with me and Jaxon was gone. Of course I was ready. But I wasn’t going to go there. Not yet.
After a few more minutes and a few times of me sucking on her bottom lip, which, by the way, tasted delicious, I finally pulled back enough to rest my forehead on hers.
“I need to go,” I said, my eyes still closed.
“Yeah, you do,” she agreed, nodding.
“If I don’t go now, I’m never leaving,” I said, not making any movement to let her go.
“What if I didn’t want you to leave?” she asked.
“Then I’d stay,” I said. “But I think . . . ,” I started, opening my eyes and pulling away just enough to look into hers, “I think deep down, you really don’t want me to stay. It’s too soon.”
“And I’d say,” she smirked, “that you are smarter than you look.”
I threw my head back and barked out a laugh. “Thanks. That is the nicest thing anyone has said to me all day.”
She smiled. So I bent down and kissed her softly one last time. Then I let her go.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said as I made my way to the door.
“Ok.”
“Thanks again for saying yes.”
“Thanks again for showing me why I should.”
I glanced at her one last time before walking out the door.
I smiled the whole drive home. And when I got home. And when I laid in bed. It was official for me. That perfect woman I had not been looking for had indeed fallen right into my lap.
Six a.m. came early the next morning, but I didn’t even feel tired. I was still on a high from my date with Addison. I couldn’t wait to see her again. I just had to figure out where we could go and what we could do. She was so squeamish about the press that I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Sure, it was inevitable that we’d eventually be outed, but that doesn’t mean it needed to be any time soon.
Deuce asked me all his normal questions during our weight training . . . “Did you stay at her place?” “Did she stay at your place?” “You did get laid, right?” He was disappointed when I told him that no, no one spent the night at anyone’s place and no one got laid on my date. Apparently Vanessa was having some morning sickness now so she wasn’t as frisky as normal, and he was trying to live vicariously through me.
I was starting to get curious how he was going to swear off sex for a few weeks after the baby was born. Knowing she would be giving birth when the season was over, I was really curious how he was gonna make it through the off-season with no practices and no sex. God help us all.
We headed into practice and started tossing the ball back and forth when Shawn Robinson, one of our wide receivers and a cocky son of a bitch, walked up.
“Hey, Hart, I’m surprised to see you so chipper this morning,” he said, tossing another football up in the air and catching it. “I would have figured you’d be a little low on energy after that hot date last night.”
I knew I hadn’t told him about Addison, but it’s not like the locker room had a whole lot of secrets. Still, I played dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You really gonna play like none of us know?” he chided. “She’s good-looking, man. Looks like you’re really into her, holding hands and dancing and shit.”
I caught the ball and turned to face him.
“What the fuck do you know about what I did last night?” I asked, not liking where this conversation was headed.
He held his hands up defensively as Deuce came jogging over. “Relax, man. I didn’t do anything. I can’t help that your picture was all over the internet last night.”
I looked over at Deuce who just shook his head. “FUCK!” I yelled, spiking the ball on the ground and starting to pace, hands stuck to my hips.
I wanted to find out exactly what was being said. What kind of pictures had they gotten? Did they know who Addison was yet? Was she getting phone calls from the media yet? Would she ever speak to me again after this? Before I could even start to process what to do, the coach called us in to huddle up.
It was, by far, the longest practice ever. I couldn’t keep my head in the game. I did fine with the drills. They were a no-brainer. But during the scrimmage I missed several easy tackles. I couldn’t compartmentalize my thoughts. And frankly, I was just plain pissed. Everyone knew something was off with me, but no one questioned it. Not even the coaches. They knew my work ethic better than anyone, so I guess they just let it slide this time.