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Dirty Game:A Secret Baby Sports Romance(25)

By:Violet Paige


Until now.

I had no idea his season had gone so wrong. There was a pit of guilt in  my stomach for not finding out until now. He couldn't be happy about  that. He was a champion. He only lost a handful of games when we were in  high school. And I remember how hard he took those. It was as if the  light in his eyes went out when the scoreboard showed the final score.  He didn't like to lose. He never had.

I held my breath when he jogged toward the line of scrimmage. My heart  seized as soon as I saw him. He was tall. Domineering. Powerful in front  of all those men. He held himself with a kind of confidence that was  undeniably sexy.

I leaned forward involuntarily as if that somehow put me at the game instead of half a country away from him.

The whistle blew and then everything was a blur. I couldn't take my eyes  off him. I didn't hear what the announcers said. All my senses were  focused on one thing-Blake.

Somehow four hours passed like that. With my eyes glued to the screen  and my heart desperate to cling to any glimpse of him I could. When he  took his helmet off on the sideline, I sighed. Sighed loudly enough to  shake me out of my stupor.

What was I doing? Drooling after him like some kind of Thrashers groupie?

When I saw him I didn't feel like a groupie. He wasn't some unattainable  man on the cover of a magazine or in a movie. Blake was my reality. He  was always going to be the first boy I'd ever loved. I looked down at  the empty bag of cookies. I had stress eaten the entire bag. I would  have moved on to a second if I had one.

Blake was no longer that boy I crushed on from high school. I needed to  realize he was now the man I loved. And that love had grown over the  summer in a way I didn't know was possible. He had moved into a new  place of my heart. A place that had been filled with years of precious  memories.

Once again I was responsible for where we were. If I had only said yes  to him, I'd be the one greeting him on the field. I'd be the one in his  arms. I'd be the one sharing his bed tonight.

I buried my face in my hands as the sobs wracked my body. What had I  done? I'd never felt more alone in my life than I did at this moment.

I was homesick for the island. I missed Aunt Lindy and the comforts of  the house I grew up in. I missed the smell of salt hitting my nose in  the mornings. I missed the cruises to the Dock House and the music Blake  liked to play.                       
       
           



       

It all felt so overwhelming. How did I leave that behind for a second time?

One of the sideline reporters rushed toward Blake and shoved a  microphone in his face. The camera caught the steam from his sweaty  forehead and the frost in the air when he spoke.

"Blake, congratulations on your win," she shouted.

"Thanks, Mindy. Pretty happy about the team right now." He grinned. I felt my core seize. God, I missed that smile.

"What did it take to bring your guys back from a first half deficit? You  were down by two touchdowns coming back in the third quarter. What did  you say to them in the locker room?"

Blake rubbed the back of his neck. I sighed just at the sound of his  voice. "I looked around and saw a lot of long faces. But I believe in  this team and that's what I told them. We just needed to believe in each  other and get the hard work done on the field."

Mindy touched the side of Blake's arm and I felt a ripple of jealous  surface. "The Sharks brought their defense tonight. How are you feeling?  You took a few big hits out there."

He nodded. "Nothing a little rest won't work out. Thanks so much, Mindy."

He stepped around her before she could draw him back in for another  question. I watched him disappear into another throng of reporters and  my heart sank. I wanted another glimpse of him. I wanted to hear his  voice again.

I reached for my phone. I wanted to call him and tell him I saw his big  win. I wanted him to know I watched every second of it and I was rooting  for him. Did that matter to him? Would it count? Did he even care?

I hesitated. I held the phone in my palm before I lowered it to the  coffee table. I had ruined our chance. It didn't matter that I would  walk out of the station tomorrow and never look back if only he would  ask me again.

Again wasn't ever going to happen. I curled on the couch and cried myself to sleep.





33





Blake





I stared into the pint of beer on the bar. Jones slapped me on the back.

"We fucking won, man. We actually won in DC."

I nodded, chugging in the process. "We did."

"You should have gone on that run with me. I think it did something. There's something in the air here."

I laughed. Jones was drunk. He sounded poetic.

"It was a hell of a game." One of the lineman plopped down next to me.

"Thanks for covering my ass." I tipped my stein toward him.

It looked like most of the team had poured in here after the game. The  bar was across the street from the hotel. There were bound to be Sharks  fans in the area. DC was crawling with them. The fans were loyal and  diehard. They weren't a new franchise like the Thrashers. I bet some had  watched the game from this very barstool, but they had most likely gone  home to lick their wounds by now.

"Anytime." He grinned a big goofy smile. "Feels like it was different team tonight."

"Yeah it was." A lot had registered with me tonight. The way we had come  together in the second half. The victory meant more than just a W to  these guys. It felt like a turning point.

I felt a soft hand glide over my shoulder and rest on my bicep.

"Hi."

Fuck.

I looked toward her. She had full lips and a set of tits no man could  ignore. She was wearing a Thrashers jersey she had altered to show off  her best assets.

"Hey, there sweetheart."

Jones and the lineman chuckled to each other. "I think I see Haynes over  there. Be back." Jones hit the other guy on the back to take a hint.  They moved from my left, opening up a couple of bar stools.

She slid in next to me. Shit. Her skirt barely covered the tops of her  thighs. I could smell her perfume as she leaned in closer.

"Is it ok if I sit here?" she purred.

"Why wouldn't it be?" I'd played this game a million times. It always  ended the same way, with the girl under me, while I fucked the lights  out for both of us.

She dropped her eyes, crossing her legs. I followed the path her leg  made over top of the other one. My cock throbbed for a quick second. And  I realized it had been way too long since I'd gotten laid. Since the  night on the beach with Sierra. That was the last time I had held a  woman in my hands. The last time I had felt the rush of sex. The thrill  of skin against skin.

And why was that? What was I waiting for? Why had I been holding out  like some virgin rookie afraid fucking would ruin my season? Was that my  excuse? No sex this season?

I turned toward her. "What's your name, darlin'?"

"Jessica." She smiled.

"Blake." I winked.

She blushed shamelessly. We both knew what was getting ready to happen.  Women like her didn't drop into the seat next to me for a romantic night  on the town. I'd never be a wine and roses man. My reputation wasn't  decorated with romantic gestures and sweet overtures. Women knew what  they were getting into. Jessica knew exactly what she wanted.                       
       
           



       

"Congratulations on your big win," she commented. "It was a great game."

"Thanks. We needed it."

And what I needed was to stop cock blocking myself. In the past month  every time I got to this point I made an excuse for why I had to get  home or back to my hotel room. Sometimes I led the girl outside just so  the guys didn't see me back out at the last minute. They didn't know I  hadn't fucked anyone this season. It wasn't any of their damn business.

Did I think something was going to change? That somehow Sierra was going  to be someone she wasn't? That if I held off on other women for a  little longer that it meant something? Because it fucking didn't. It  didn't mean anything to her. And I wasn't eighteen any longer. I had let  her punch me in the heart back then-I was too old for that kind of game  now. Jessica was my kind of game.

The kind where the only thing that mattered was sex and football. No emotions. No feelings. No way to get hurt.

I looked at the brunette. "Want to get out of here?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "I was worried you weren't going to ask."

That had been her intention from the moment she touched me. I scooped my  hand around her waist and headed toward the door. Tonight I was going  to put the summer behind me. I would finally get Sierra out of my  system.

I had managed to turn things around on the field. This was my last obstacle to getting complete control.