“That’s—” My thought was cut off as the next pass was intended for Leo. I jumped to my feet, my hands clasped together as I held my breath. The ball went unerringly to him, but he couldn’t seem to control it, and it slipped out of his arms. I winced as he fell on top of the ball to prevent a recovery when a trio of Detroit players descended on him.
“Honey, I know you’re excited, but you’ve got to pace yourself.” Ellie pulled me back down. “It’s tough for those of us who love the gameandone of the players. The gals who come here to support their man and really don’t know—or care—much about the game itself are the happier ones, I think. But try to take it easy. You can’t live or die by the completed passes or touchdowns. You’ll make yourself crazy.”
Easy for her to say, I thought. But I took my seat and tried to tamp down the nerves inside me that were jumping for Leo.
The next pass was complete to a different receiver, and then Gideon ran for a first down. He completed a long pass for another first, moving the chains downfield to Detroit’s forty-five-yard line.
On the next play, the quarterback sent a spiral pass ten yards to Leo—and this time, he caught it easily, pivoted and ran another six yards. I couldn’t help myself; I leaped up again, clapping and shouting for Leo.
A few of the people in lower rows of the box turned to look up at me. Most of them were smiling, I was relieved to see, and a couple clapped along with me. I decided to embrace my newbie status and be myself, the girl who screamed herself hoarse at games. They’d deal with it, or I’d go sit somewhere else. Pretending that what was happening on the field didn’t affect me would be torture.
I remained standing to see what might happen next, and I grinned when Ellie rose to join me. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was excited, too, or if she was being supportive of me. Either way, I felt a swell of like for this classy Southern girl who’d been so kind to my Leo.
“Corey is an unbelievable player.” I tilted my head to speak to her as the team lined up again. “No one’s getting past him to even get near Gideon.”
She flushed with pride and smiled. “Oh, it happens now and then ... but yeah. My man is gifted. He’s a protector, you know? He protects his quarterback, his woman and his friends.”
The stadium joined me in standing as the Rebels made it into the red zone, and then when Gideon threw a touchdown pass, the place erupted into ear-splitting screams. Leo hadn’t been the receiver, but a touchdown was a touchdown, and no one was going to complain. Not even me.
By the second half, Leo seemed to have found his rhythm. He caught several more passes and ran for a decent amount of yardage. When the clock hit all zeros, Richmond had won by ten points.
I was ready to sprint down to the locker room, but Ellie caught my arm. “There’s no rush, honey. Look.” She pointed to the field, where the players were still milling around. “They’ll be out there for a bit, doing some on-field interviews, and then they’ll be in the locker room for a while before the post-game press conference. I doubt either Leo or Corey will be part of that today, but still—we don’t want to be hanging out in the hallway until right before they come out. It’s a mess. The press is there, and the jock junkies.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Okay.” I sat down again. “So we just ... stay up here?”
“Yeah.” Ellie lifted one shoulder. “Most of the wives take off and wait in the parking lot or meet their husbands at home. Corey and I have a tradition of meeting in the hall, so I don’t miss that. It’s part of our thing.” She quirked an eyebrow at me. “And today, it’s important for you to be there. Important to Leo and important to you. This is setting the standard for how you two handle post-game and everything that comes with it. Are you ready to deal with the press? They might not be in your face today, but we’ve always got to be prepared, just in case.”
“I feel like I’m not dressed right,” I confessed. “I didn’t even think about wearing something different. But all the wives are dressed up.” I flipped my hand toward Ellie herself. “You look perfect.”
“Honey,youlook adorable. And you’re not a wife. Yet.” She said it gently, with a smile, and I took the comment in the spirit Ellie meant it. “Hold your head high and be proud—of both yourself and your man.”
I tried to keep that in mind as we stood in the corridor outside the locker room. As Ellie had predicted, there were journalists, TV reporters and photographers crowding the space, along with a sprinkling of women and parents I’d seen upstairs. And then there was a small crowd of women who hadnotbeen sitting with us. They all seemed to be wearing an unofficial uniform of tight, low-cut shirts, short skirts or skinny jeans and heels that would’ve spelled a broken ankle to me.
“The jock junkies?” I murmured under my breath to Ellie.
She grimaced and nodded. “The sad thing is, these girls will probably all end up leaving with players. Some of the guys prefer mindless fun and a sure thing after a game. I don’t know who I feel sorrier for—the skanks or the jerks who take them home.”
I didn’t have time to answer, because the locker room door opened. The very first player to emerge was heart-stoppingly familiar, as his gray-blue eyes roamed the crowd searching for me. At least I hoped he was looking for me.Damn, he looked even more mouth-watering than he had last month in California. Dressed in a suit that conformed to his body, not even beginning to disguise the hard muscles beneath the fabric, the man was temptation and tantalization personified. And I was more than ready to succumb.
When he spotted us, Leo’s whole face lit up. His grin was broad, and he pushed through the people who separated us, not stopping once to answer the questions tossed his way or acknowledge the requests for pictures.
When he stood in front of me, he didn’t hesitate for a second. His arms were around me, and every inch of my body was pressed against six plus feet of solid football player.
“Mia,” he whispered. “God, I’m so glad you’re here.” Without any worry about Ellie or the rest of the crowd, Leo framed my face in his two hands and took my mouth, kissing me with such purpose and intensity that I was afraid I might melt into a puddle of desire right there in the hall.
His tongue plunged between my lips, searching for mine and then tracing every inch of my mouth. I clung to his shoulders, wishing that this moment would last forever.
Whistles and catcalls bounced against the walls as the rest of the team began to wander out.
“Taylor, you dog! Who’s the babe?”
Someone thumped Leo on the back, and he wrapped his arms around my ribs, protecting me from being jostled. He drew back just slightly, resting his forehead against mine, smiling into my eyes as if we were the only two people in the world.
“Hey, Leo, is this your girlfriend? Can we get a picture?” A man holding a small recorder, flanked by a photographer, tapped Leo on the arm.
Leo didn’t move, but his eyebrows rose, and I knew he was letting me make the decision. If I shook my head, he’d hustle me out of the stadium, making sure to keep me away from the press as much as he could. And he wouldn’t resent me for it, either. I knew that.
But this was Leo’s life. If I wanted the man—andGod, I did. I did, so much—then I had to take what came with him. I had to accept that football was more than the game he played. It was the life he lived, at least for now, and if I wanted to be part of that life, I had to figure out how to deal with it—on my own terms.
