"For us, I think it is."
I scooped her in my arms, her legs dangling in the air, and carried her to my bed.
I couldn't help the kiss that devoured her lips. I didn't know if I was punishing her for arguing with me or trying to taste every last drop of wine off her mouth. I pushed my tongue inside, sucking hard while she wiggled in my arms.
I dropped her on the bed and gazed down at her. "My bed. My rules."
She nodded.
I crawled toward her, sweeping the hair off her neck to kiss the line of skin that ran to her shoulder.
"Who do you belong to, Doc?"
"You," she moaned, her head rocking back in ecstasy. That was all I needed to hear. I could make up for everything else as long as she was still mine.
Game day was my favorite day of the week. I left the apartment extra early to get to the stadium before the first rush of fans walked through the turnstiles. I left Lennon sleeping naked, with the sheets threaded around her body.
On the counter was her pass and ticket for the game. The driver was going to pick her up an hour ahead of time and deposit her at the private stadium entrance.
It had been three days since we had the discussion about my hand in the kitchen and neither one of us had brought it up again. At some point, she was going to lay into me about what I had taken. But for now, she seemed to respect that my focus was on defeating the Volts. It was my first game back.
I walked into the locker room, inhaling the stale smell of sweat and deodorant. Damn, I loved this place.
It was quiet. I was the first one in. I hung my bag under my name and looked around the room. The towel attendant wheeled out an empty cart. In an hour, this place would be packed with guys gearing up for warm-ups. Right now, it was all mine.
I sat on the bench.
Stubbs was the first to walk in. "Hey, good to see you in here." He smiled. He liked being early too.
"Good to be here."
"It's lucky we had that bye week." He motioned toward my right hand.
"Oh yeah. Made all the difference."
"And I heard you're fucking the doctor."
I laughed. "Yeah, and that."
Stubbs pulled on his socks. We all had a pre-game ritual we followed. His started with the feet.
"Is she going to be here today?" he asked.
"Oh yeah. She's in my box."
"With your parents?" He scrunched up his face. "Your dad?"
"Fuck."
Stubbs stopped what he was doing. "What?"
"I forgot to tell her about my fucking parents."
He started laughing so hard he snorted. "That's messed up. She's going to kill you."
I shook my head. "Lennon's not like that."
Or was she? Holy fuck. I'd told her that story about my dad and then stuck her in a box with him with no warning. I searched for my phone. I still had a chance to call her and give her a heads up. She could back out at the last minute and I'd get it. I wouldn't want to be up there with him either.
Shit. My phone wasn't in my bag. I pictured it in the bathroom, plugged into the charger. Double shit.
"Man, if you could see your fucking face right now." Stubbs pointed at me. "This is why I never have one woman. I don't want to deal with this shit."
"You have two girlfriends. How is that any better?"
"Well, if one gives me hell, I just go see the other one." He grinned.
The guys started to trickle in. Everyone patted me on the back and gave me grief about my hand. There were a few comments about Lennon too, but I bit my tongue. I didn't need to start punching out my own team before the game.
I'd never felt the need to protect someone before. But I didn't like the way they talked about her. How hot she was. How fucking awesome she probably was in bed. I focused on lacing up my ties and tried to ignore them.
"Blakefield, you ready for this?" Bruno stuck his chest out and walked through the crowd of linemen.
"Hell, yeah." I gave him a high five.
"Then let's huddle and get out there."
Eighteen
Lennon
I was taking being the quarterback's girlfriend to a whole new level. I was wearing Wes's jersey along with a pair of skinny jeans and a pair of gorgeous leather boots he had had embroidered for me with my initials inside. I knew the price tag on those alone was over a thousand dollars. He liked to spoil me, and I was starting to like it too. I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and slipped on silver hoops.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't look like a surgeon. I didn't look like the girl who had graduated at the top of her med school class. I looked like some girl so in love, she'd do anything to see her boyfriend play football.
I heard the knock on the door. Too late to undo this now, I reminded myself. I was in it. Totally in it.
The driver dropped me off under the stadium and showed me where the elevator was that I was supposed to use for Wes's private box. I wore the credentials tag he gave me around my neck and showed my ticket to the security guard at the elevator.
"Go Wranglers," he grunted as the elevator doors closed.
My first AFA game, and I was going to sit in the most elite player's box in the stadium. I'd seen the boxes on TV. But up close, I knew this would be a completely different experience.
Two weeks ago, I was on my couch, watching Wes walk the sidelines, and now I was here as his girlfriend. His number one fan.
I pushed open the door to the suite, and came face to face with a man with broad shoulders and an eerie resemblance to Wes.
"This is a private suite, ma'am. There's an usher in the hall that can help you find where you're supposed to be."
"Oh no, this is where I'm supposed to be. Wes Blakefield's box?"
The man looked at a woman, who was picking through a tray of fruit. "Gloria, did Wes mention this to you?"
She looked me over. "No. Honey, who are you?"
Oh God. This was embarrassing. Horrifying. I knew it even without them having to make the proper introductions. These were Wes's parents. How could he not tell me his parents were going to be in the box?
I stretched my hand forward. "Hi, I'm Lennon. Wes's, uh … Wes's friend."
Gloria dropped the strawberry in her hand and came over to meet me. "Honey, aren't you sweet? I'm Gloria and this is Bud. We're the parents." She smiled.
"It's so nice to meet you both." I wanted to tell them how great this was, but I'd heard nothing about Wes's mom, and the only thing I knew about Bud was how he drove his son to be a compulsive winner.
Bud scratched the back of his head, and I pretended not to notice that I'd seen Wes do that same exact thing when he was working through a problem.
"So, Wes invited you here? To our booth?"
I nodded. "Yes, sir." I held up my ticket as if I had to prove it to him.
Gloria tugged on his arm. "Bud, it's his box. Don't be an ass in front of the girl."
It was hard to smile. The tension was filling the deluxe stadium box. I didn't know if there were enough beers in that bar to lighten the mood or not.
"I'll just stay out of your way and you won't even know I'm here." I walked to the front of the glass and admired the field.
The cheerleaders were running with flags across the end zones. At least I had watched a few games with Wes, so I should be able to keep up. I didn't want his parents to know I was a complete football idiot.
Gloria sat next to me in a leather seat. "I'm glad Wes has a friend." She held a beer in her hand. "It's usually just Bud and me up here. This will be fun." She handed me a cold bottle.
"Thanks." I smiled at her. I could see where Wes got the green in his eyes.
"So what do you do, honey? Model?"
I choked. "Oh God, no … I mean, sorry. No, ma'am. I'm a surgeon at San Antonio Mission Hospital. In orthopedics."
"And you're with my son?"
I nodded. "Mmmhmm." I was going to need more than just this first beer.
"Well, isn't that something?" She turned over her shoulder. "Bud, did you hear that? Lennon is a surgeon."
"Surgeon? Not a cheerleader or a swimsuit model? Huh."
"Don't listen to him," Gloria whispered. "Once the game starts, you might as well cover your ears anyway. I bring these." She revealed a pair of earbuds from her pocket. "He curses so much I have to listen to the game on my phone. Can't stand to listen to him yell."
"Oh." I didn't know what to say, but I had a feeling I was getting ready to get a first-hand account of how Wes Blakefield became the man I knew.
She patted my hand. "Glad you're here, honey. I need a girl on my team." She winked and planted the earbuds in her ears.
I took another sip of beer and watched the introduction for the Volts while the San Antonio fans booed. I sat forward in my seat as they began to introduce the Wranglers. Every player's picture popped up on the jumbo screen, but when they announced Wes's name, the place went insane. It was deafening.