“Think about me while I’m gone?” I kiss her cheek, her jaw, and her neck.
“Like I’ll be able to think about anything else.” She smiles blissfully.
The last five days have been nothing but running drills, conditioning drills, and throwing sessions. Sixty-minute throw ins—deep, shallow, and combo—piled on top of agility training, followed by years and years of films.
I am wiped, but oh-so-fucking wired.
It’s midnight, and I’m supposed to be sleeping, but all I can think about is a game-winning touchdown and celebrating with Laney on my arm.
She was supposed to fly in this morning, but she got caught up at work and had to delay. Of all the days. I know her big project is important to her, and I want to be supportive, but I also want to be selfish and have her here with me.
Tomorrow. She’s hopping on a six a.m. flight, so she should be here by noon. Twelve hours. I have lasted five days without her, I can last twelve more hours. Hopefully. I grab my cock; he misses the hell out of her, too.
I roll over onto my side and hug one of the extra pillows, attempting to fall asleep once again. My body is exhausted, but my mind is stuck in overdrive.
After a few frustrating minutes of rocking and counting push-ups in my head, I finally begin to drift off.
I sink into the mattress as my muscles relax, and just as I submerge into sleep, a click startles me awake. My eyelids fly open, but I don’t move an inch. I’ve heard rumors of player pranks over the last few days. The guys blowing off steam after a grueling workout or practice. Practical jokers they think they are. Our team is young and ambitious and sometimes needs to be herded like cats. But when we play as a collective whole, we are nearly unstoppable. We’ve formed a special kind of bond that’s not easily achieved on any level, but our personalities mesh exceptionally well, and we all have the same goal. Win. That’s the endgame. Not fame or ego or popularity. That all comes with winning. It was one of the first things I told my team, and the statement surprisingly resonated. I’m ready to lead them. I’m ready to win.
I hear footsteps coming closer to the bed. They think they’re going to catch my off guard. Little do they know, they have another thing coming.
Just as the body hovers over me, I strike my hand out like a snake and grab behind their thigh. There’s a shriek, then a thud, then an, “Ouch, shit.”
I shoot out of bed. “Lemon?”
“Yeah?” Laney grumbles.
“What the hell were you doing?” I toss the covers, switch on the bed lamp, and reach for her.
“I was going to sneak into bed and surprise you. So much for that.” She rubs her ass. She hit the ground hard.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” I pull her up off the floor and into my arms. “I thought you were one of the guys fucking with me. They’ve been pulling pranks all week.”
“Well, remind me to thank them very much for my black and blue butt,” she whines adorably.
“You weren’t supposed to get in until tomorrow.”
“Surprise,” she drawls dryly. “I caught a red-eye. I missed you. And I wanted to be here for you. I figured you’d be out cold from all the training and practice. I wanted to be snuggled up against you when you woke up.”
“Good plan. Bad execution.” I laugh.
“Obviously.” She frowns, still rubbing her bum.
“Let me take care of that for you.” I take over rubbing her ass. Laney’s wearing a casual T-shirt and skin-tight yoga pants. I can feel the heat of her skin right through the stretchy material.
“I’ve been tossing and turning all night,” I share my snoozing dilemma.
“You’ve been having trouble sleeping?” She touches my face tenderly.
“Just tonight. I think all the pressure is finally catching up to me.”
“Only two nights before the biggest game of your life? Pansy,” she teases. Jesus, I missed her.
“I’m human.” I pin her to the mattress, biting her neck until she’s giggling and squirming.
“I forget sometimes.”
“Don’t be smart.” I bite then suck her skin, and she squeals.
