I hold up my hands. “I know this is a one-night-only thing we’ve got going, but the offer stands. You know where to find me.”
Her lips twitch. “On the field, in the middle of it all … right?”
I nod. “You got it.”
“Thisisa one-night-only thing,” she says after a beat of silence.
Is it me, or does she not sound super happy about that? I mentally slap myself a couple times, trying to knock the wishful thinking from my brain.
“But,” she adds carefully.
The wishful thinking roars back, doubled in size.
But then the music cuts out from the party below, and Scott’s voice reaches us. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s that time! We’re going to get started on the live auction. If I could have my players up here.”
Just like that, the clock strikes midnight. My time with Cinderella is up.
Chapter 6
Lucy
“I’m guessing that’s you, Mr. Football?” I keep my tone light even as my heart sinks.
“Yeah, I gotta run.” He stands and holds out his hand. I take it and let him hoist me up.
“Go ahead. I can find my way back down.” My feet throw a hissy fit, pulsing with pain at the thought of taking all those stairs back down to the main level.
“Absolutely not. I’m not leaving you up here alone.” TJ’s tone leaves no room for argument. “But we do have to hurry. Come on.”
We retrace our steps to the landing. I bend down and start putting my shoes on, but his large hand settles on my lower back, and I add that to my mental list of things to include in a book, becausehello, the weight of his hand makes my stomach feel like it’s free-falling.
“No time for those death traps.”
I look over my shoulder, arching a brow. “You want me to go barefoot?”
He shakes his head. “Just hold them. I’ll hold you again.”
“I’m only going to slow you down,” I protest. “Go ahead without me.”
He looks torn, but then he steels his resolve. “I’ve got a better idea, as long as you’re okay with me carrying you a little less ladylike?”
“Uh, I guess.”
“Good.” In one smooth motion, he hoists me up and over his shoulder. He’s got his arm clamped around my knees and my head is staring at his perfectly formed butt. It’s like the peach emoji in real life.
“Thank you.” TJ’s low voice is smug.
My face flames. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?” I mutter.
“Sure did. Glad to know all my time in the weight room is paying off.”
He jogs down the steps, and I can’t help it. I start to laugh. If you would have told me at the beginning of tonight that I’d be carried fireman-style down a back staircase at the River Foxes Stadium by a handsome football player, I would have said there was a better chance of my nonexistent carriage turning into a pumpkin.
I can’t stop giggling.
“You okay back there? Is my derriere causing you to swoon?”
I laugh even harder. “Derriere? Who even says that?”
