Santo smirks before he kisses me, making sure to push his tongue into my mouth so he can suck hard on it before he releases me. There’s no press at this exit as they’re not allowed here. I’d gladly kiss him in front of the cameras any day, and grin as my teammates whoop and make noises as they disappear onto the bus.
“You know, something to think about until you see me later,” he says, his hand ghosting down my pants.
“Fuck, I fully expect you to do something with that when… fuck me…”
Santo is squeezing my cock and my eyes roll back, his back shielding me from everyone else.
“Be a good boy,” he croons, making me gasp.
“What do I get if I am?” I hiss.
“Me,” he winks, letting me go and stepping back.
“Baby, that ship has sailed. I have you,” I wink.
“That’s true, I’ll have to figure something else out,” Santo chuckles, walking away as I board the bus.
“Blue knot! Blue knot!” The chant begins as my cheeks heat and I can’t stop grinning as I find a seat.
“To be continued!” I yell, laughing as the bus cheers. Fuck, I do love my team.
I may be difficult to be around at times, but none of them blinked when Santo and I essentially announced we were dating. I pinched his ass when he walked past, and the team congratulated us. It wasn’t overly complicated, there wasn’t a press release, and I don’t plan for there to be one unless it becomes necessary.
I try to hold onto my privacy whenever possible. That’s another reason why I hate Marilyn’s idea so much. If I wanted to date women, I would.
Deciding to grab a beer while I wait for Santo once we arrive at a bar called Martin’s, I walk inside and orient myself.
“Hey, did Marilyn tell you?” Coach Miles asks, stopping beside me.
“No,” I groan. “What is the wretched woman torturing me with now?”
“Remember the girl she wanted you to meet?” he asks. At my tenuous nod, he inclines his head in the direction of a booth. “She’s here.”
Carefully leaning forward, I see a girl with pitch black hair pulled up into a messy bun, beautiful hazel eyes, wearing a long sleeved striped shirt under a band tee and ripped jeans.
I know who that is.
“Seriously?” I croak out. “Fuck, she’s beautiful, but we both know who her father is. How is this possible?”
“We’re both playing teams in Atlanta,” he shrugs. “We can play this however you want. It’s your call.”
“I shouldn’twantto go over there,” I say. I have Santo to think about, and I know Marilyn has me by a different set of balls, which puts me in an awkward position. “I want to wait until Santo gets here so I can explain this to him. When you told me last night that Marilyn wanted to set up a meeting, I didn’t think it would be this soon.”
“Of course,” Coach says amicably. “Let’s grab a beer while we wait.”
Deciding to go with it, I let him buy a beer before asking him a question. I’m not a fool, I remember that he was stalking her last night on social media. I don’t trust this.
“Is this really just a coincidence?” I ask him. “Did youdoanything?—”
“I am not omniscient,” Coach laughs. “I’ll pull a string here and there, but the weight of consent still remains in her court. She’s aware that we are going to be here, and she said she was willing to say hello. Anything more is up to you.”
“You have to go with me,” I hiss, taking a sip from my bottled beer. It’s not terrible, but I don’t plan to drink much.
“I’ll go, but I’m not her favorite person,” he says.
“What’s your deal with her, Coach?” I ask.
“Ha. It’s really complicated,” he admits. “I need to get her to talk to me to fix it.”
