He stayed in place for a moment, shuddering and groaning while my orgasm made sure that every inch of me had felt it before it finally went away.
Finally, Zeke rolled to his back and looked over at me. “Shit.”
I nodded. “Uh-huh. That’s what you miss when you’re drunk.”
He laughed. “I may never drink again.”
He stayed flat on his back next to me, so I curled around until I could lay back against his stomach. An arm cast over me and started to gently caress the skin of my stomach.
“I have never been with someone like you,” I admitted. “I don’t know why you’re so different.”
“If you figure it out, let me know,” Zeke replied. “I have a secret basement full of your pictures and red string.”
I laughed before asking, “What changed? When did we stop hating each other?”
“You know, I remember coming to your first game,” Zeke said. “You started to play, and I sat up straight. My whole body buzzed all over, and all I could think was, ‘Holy crap. This girl is awesome.’”
I hunched my brow. I put my hand against his hand on my stomach. “I was always a fan of yours. When you walked up to me, I was like, ‘Is that Zeke Matheson? Did he see me play?’ I was starstruck until you immediately turned into an ass.”
“I did turn into an ass.” He went quiet for a minute. “I don’t know. I take football so seriously, and I’d never been in a position where excellent plays took a backseat to teamwork. You guys worked so well together, but there were all these mistakes. You still won, and it pissed me off because I couldn’t figure out how a team that seemed so bad on the surface still pulled out a victory.” I couldn’t tell if he was insulting my team or not, but then he continued. “I’ve seen you play since then, and I’ve realized…you guys are good. Like, really good. We only beat you because we had, what, quadruple your team size? Maybe there was a part of me that felt threatened.”
“You thought we were going to cost you the pros?” I asked. I turned over onto my stomach so that I could look at Zeke’s face and read his expressions, but his eyes were closed, and he was totally calm.
“I still kind of think that,” he said. “I just don’t know that I care as much anymore.”
“Really?” I asked. “You don’t care?”
Zeke opened his eyes, and they landed right on mine. “Maybe there are better things to care about.”
I smiled. “Yeah, maybe.”
His warm smile faded into pensiveness. “Can I ask you a question?”
I tilted my head. “Of course.”
“Why did you go back on your word to withdraw your application?” he asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you did, but that’s always bothered me. Everything else about you seems so perfect.”
“I didn’t.” I sat up and crossed my legs so I could look down at him. “I was about to delete it. Actually, I already had, but then Wright showed up.”
Zeke sat up on the bed, shock reading in his eyes. “What?”
“Yeah. I told him I had to withdraw because I’d made a bet and lost. He told me he was giving me an excuse to back out, and I said that I didn’t want to. A deal was a deal. He said it wasn’t up to me anymore.” I rolled my eyes. “He’s kind of a smarmy guy. I thought he actually cared about the Widows, but now I think he wants to make us a gimmick.”
Zeke reached forward, put his hand on my neck, and gave me a kiss. “I knew you were perfect.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know about that.”
“What else did he say to you?” Zeke leaned in like I was about to drop a juicy secret.
“Well, he called you a washed-up pro wannabe,” I said, even hating let the words leave my mouth.
“He’s what changed,” Zeke said finally. “Wright fucking pitted us against each other on purpose.”
My jaw dropped. “What do you mean?”
“He invited me to a drink in a bar that he paid the owner to empty. He asked me about our game, acted like he didn’t even know that much about your team, and then called you amateurs and asked why I would play against your team. He even asked if one of you had cancer. I found out the whole thing was a setup. He cleared the bar so there would be no one to refute his story when he went on television to say that I agreed to your bid for semi-pro.”
I scoffed. “What! Fuck that guy!”
Zeke laughed and grabbed the side of my neck again, but he didn’t pull in for a kiss, just rubbed gently. “Yeah, fuck that guy.”
“Clearly, we’re gonna need to be more careful what we say to him.” I looked at Zeke. “No more letting him get between us.”
He nodded. “Yep. Now…” He pushed against me and laid me back against the bed. “Let’s forget about him.”
I smiled, my body already turning up the heat again. “Forget about who?”
22
Quinn
I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face, no matter how hard I tried. Dragging myself away from Zeke on Sunday was difficult enough, but then we spent the whole day texting each other like high schoolers. Stupid gifs, cheesy images—if it was a cliche thing for a new couple to do, we did it dozens of times, all day long. At one point, Zeke took a picture of himself shirtless and hanging out of his football pants, which sent me to the bathroom to take off everything but my jacket, and unzip it to a very low point and take a picture to send back. The naughty pictures turned into sexting before circling back to sending back and forth the pictures we’d each taken of one another asleep at different points after we finally wore ourselves out the night before. When we finally had to stop so we could both focus on football, it felt like I was a little kid and my mom was trying to drag me back home from the park.
“Looks”—Cal started to dance at my approach—“like someone”—he bobbed his head—“got…”
Kris and Hollie jumped over next to him, and they all did jazz hands. “Laid!”
“Glad to see you’re getting used to each other,” I replied. “Dorks.”
I continued past them, but Kris ran up to my side. “Are you really dating Zeke Matheson?”
I shrugged, my smile growing to a shit-eating magnitude. “A lot more than that.”
“Oh my god.” She punched my arm. “That’s crazy! Well, congratulations. If he makes you smile like this, I’m on board. Just as long as he doesn’t turn into a crazy jerk who wants to end your career again.”
“Oh.” I looked at her. “We need to talk about that. All of us.” I turned to face the team. “Hey guys, can you huddle up? I have some news.”
The team immediately responded, gathering around, and Cal came to stand next to me. I looked around and noticed someone was missing. “Where’s Lila?” She was never late. If anything, she was always early.
My gaze dropped to George, and she shook her head. “No idea. I haven’t heard from her.”
“I called her sister,” Max said. “She talked to her, but when I tried to call and text, no response.”