I kiss her one more time, then get off the bed. Walking to the end of the mattress, I grab my pants, fish out my phone, and see that I also have some texts from our group chat, including one from Archie. And one from Sabine. I’ll reply to everyone but her later. I’m not wasting time with my Vixen right now.
I set the phone down on the table between the two chairs at the end of the bed. “Be right back.” I walk into the bathroom and get a washcloth and wet it.
When I get back to the room, she’s sitting up against the headboard, watching me, smiling. Her hair has fallen out of her bun, and her cheeks are slightly pink. And she looks thoroughly fucked. Goddamn if that doesn’t make me proud.
I sit on the edge of the mattress and wipe my cum off her stomach and move up to her breasts. “You look so pretty, painted in my cum. I hate to wash it off.”
She starts to laugh. “Yeah, but it’ll dry soon, and no one likes that. Might be a little uncomfortable on my way home too.” She winks at me.
I finish cleaning her off and then fold the washcloth and set it near the foot of the bed. “Are you gonna tell me your namebefore you leave? If we’re planning to see where this goes, I can’t call you Vixen forever.” I take her hand in mine.
“Hmm … I guess you’re right. Besides, it’s not really fair, is it? Since I know your name.” She puts her finger on her chin.
“Exactly.” I lift our hands and kiss the back of hers.
“Alie. My name is Alie.” She leans forward, closer to me.
“Alie. That’s pretty.” I meet her in a quick kiss, then pull back. “I’d better get in the shower, or I might miss my flight. Give me five, and we can walk out together?”
“Let me use it before you get in.”
She scoots to the side and stands, then walks toward the bathroom. Once she closes the door, I stand and grab my bag from the closet that has my clothes. I pull out a pair of boxers, joggers, a T-shirt, and a sweatshirt. I hear my phone buzz on the table and walk over and pick it up again. This time, it’s my mom. I’ll answer her later too.
When Alie walks out of the bathroom, I nearly drop my clothes and take her to the bed again. She passes by me and starts to pick up her clothes off the floor.
“Hey, wait for me, yeah?” I lift my brows.
She nods. “I’ll wait for you, but hurry up, Liam.” A smile breaks out on her face.
“My name sure sounds good, coming from your lips.” I smile back at her and walk backward into the bathroom. I don’t bother shutting the door.
CHAPTER
NINE
Alie
I pull my red pantsuit over my hips, the fabric sliding into place as easily as the knot forming in my chest. If I didn’t already have plans today—and Liam didn’t have to get back to New Orleans—I would’ve stayed tangled up with him in that bed until the very last possible second. Being wrapped around him felt dangerously easy.
Through the open bathroom door, I watch him step into the shower. Steam billows around the shape of his broad shoulders, the water carving paths along his skin until he disappears behind the fog.
A smile tugs at my lips. Never in my life did I imagine I’d spend the night with him—Liam Pitz, one of the hottest new quarterbacks in the league.
Of course I knew who he was. I always know the players; it’s impossible not to when you work in the business and your father owns the New York Titans.
But I didn’t go to the wedding last night, searching for him. I went because Aaron needed a plus-one and also insisted I get out of my slump.
It’s been a rough few months. My ex blindsided me in the fall, breaking up with me after pretending to care for nearly a year. It turned out he wasn’t interested in me at all—just in getting close to my father. Another baller looking for a good time, as Dad put it. I learned the hard way that Grant girls need to tread carefully.
Dad made me promise, no more athletes. Not for a while. Not until my judgment wasn’t clouded by heartbreak or loneliness.
So, no, I didn’t walk into the wedding, plotting to fall headfirst into the arms of a rookie quarterback.
In fact, Dad’s warning has played in my head on repeat my whole life:Rookie athletes have terrible reputations. Money, women, partying, football—it’s their entire world.
And when Liam told me he wasn’t ready for a family, none of it surprised me. It fit exactly what Dad had drilled into us:Do not get mixed up with a man whose entire future depends on keeping his life uncomplicated.
But then Liam smiled at me. Really smiled. And once we started talking about ridiculous things, like being in a Christmas snow globe, something in me cracked open. He wasn’t trying to charm me because of my last name. He didn’t even know my last name. For the first time in a long time, someone saw me, not the Grant legacy or the Titans heiress. He looked at me like I was just a woman in red, making him laugh. And once we were talking, I didn’t want it to end.
