The world spins.
Next thing I know we’re in his car and pulling away from the stadium.
I stare out the window, trying to breathe normally, but my heart is racing like I just sprinted the length of the field.
“Um… w-where are we going?”I ask.
“I have a house,” he says simply.
Right.
Of course he does.
I fiddle nervously with the hem of my skirt, watching the streetlights blur past the window.
Because this is happening.
Sexy, ridiculously hot rugby star Noah Walker is driving me to his house.
His house.
My stomach flips.
Then his hand settles on my thigh.
Big.Warm.
Heavy in the most distracting way possible.
When his fingers squeeze gently, I nearly moan out loud.
“Easy, love,” he murmurs, glancing at me with a small smile.“I got you.”
Christ.
I hope so.
His house turns out to be incredible—modern and spacious with huge windows and a wraparound porch—but honestly?
I barely notice any of it.
Because Noah barely puts the car in park before he’s already out of the driver’s seat.
He rounds the front of the car and opens my door like he’s been waiting his entire life to do exactly this.
Then he spins me to face him.
One hand curls around the back of my neck, firm but careful, and suddenly his mouth is on mine again.
Hot.
Possessive.
And I actually squeak when his other arm wraps around my waist and he lifts me clean off the seat.
“Hey!”I gasp between kisses.“You can’t carry me!I’m too big!”
The words fly out before I can stop them.
