I suck my teeth, my blood pumping and his words echoing in my mind, but not the way he intended them to. I realize Dad's thoughts aren't relevant anymore—they're just noise. Because if there's anything I need to outrun, it's him.
"Yeah, I agree," I say, Brooke's playlist humming in my chest like a second heartbeat, her face at the forefront of my mind. "I definitely think a change would be good."
Dad looks at me satisfied, assuming that we're on the same page, and I don't bother correcting him before I clap him on the shoulder. "I'll see ya in there, Dad," is all I say before heading through the door.
I barely make it halfway down the hall toward the locker room in search of some sort of distance from him—some sort of relief in general—when my phone pings in my pocket. I groan, holding my breath as I pull it out, waiting for a follow-up text from Dad. Instead, Brooke's name flashes across my screen. I suck in a full breath for what feels like the first time since stepping off of my bike, and swipe it open immediately.
Mystery Girl
Good luck today!
I bite my lip, stifling a smirk as that ache to thank her creeps back in below my belt at full force. Without checking the time or overthinking it, I respond with my natural reaction.
I need her.
Where are you?
I bust through the locker room door, waiting for a response. A handful of guys throw me a,yoorwhat's up?,but I respectfully brush them off as I stride to my stall. I shrug off my backpack and suit jacket, hanging them up as my phone vibrates again.
Mystery Girl
Just leaving the social media office. Gonna head back toward the tunnel to prep.
I freeze, immediately searching my mental map of the facilities, calculating which rooms fall between where she is and where I am. I quickly unbutton my white shirt and pants as I figure out my answer. Everything's connected somehow, but there's one room I can get to in less than a minute, that would open up to exactly where she is. I slide out of my shirt and pants, tossing them carelessly into the stall, then grab my phone again.
Don't move.
I don't even bother putting my gitch on first. Instead, I dart toward the hall at the other end of the locker room, and right before I hit the showers, I step toward the room thatshouldseparate me from Brooke. Scanning my finger, I wait for the lock to click open like waiting for the final seconds of a penalty kill to wind down to zero. When it finally does, I dip inside, speed walking over the tile floor.
My heart rate quickens. I'm grateful my briefs are black and tight enough to do a half-decent job at concealing my body's reaction to the anticipation of seeing her. My breath grows heavy despite the short distance to the opposite door, but when I push it open, all of it stops.
She's here.
"Hey you," I say, my voice low. There shouldn't be a lot of traffic on this side of the facilities so close to a game, but the last thing I need today is anymore unwanted attention.
Her face brightens, a mixture of surprise and amusement, as she quickly glides toward me. "What are you—wait, why are you in your under—?"
"Would you just get in here?" I practically beg as I slide my hand behind her back and pull her past my body propping the door open. We both slink into the room, and I close the door behind me, turning back to see her, my mood instantly lifted.
"I thought you weren't much of a spa guy," she says as if it's a question.
I grab her hand and lead her to the sauna tucked in the corner of the room. Popping the glass door open, I pull her inside before shutting it again, my need for her growing more intense by the second now that she's in such close proximity.
"I'm whatever kind of guy gets to have you," I say, my voice huskier than before as we move toward the wall-to-wall, two-tiered benches at the back of the cedar box. When my shins hit the wood, I spin around, yanking her into my arms.
"I take it you liked the playlist then?" she asks, her voice laced with humor as she gives me an obvious once-over.
"Loved it," I say, mine dry with desire as I dip down to kiss her neck.
Brooke hums, and the vibration hits my lips, then shoots right to my cock sitting between us. "Mmm, good. Which song was your favorite?" I continue sucking at the skin just below her jaw, and she giggles as she continues. "Let me guess, the NF song."
"No," I growl, nipping her ear. "The last one."
Brooke gasps, maybe because of my answer, maybe because my hand is now gliding under her bra. "I'm obsessed with that song."
"You got a thing for broken blonde guys?" I ask, standing back up and looking her in the eyes, one brow arched high.
Her face falls slightly, her irises growing darker. She pauses, scanning my expression.
