“No. I don’t want you anywhere near this stadium.” He looked over at Emmie. “Make sure he gets home and keeps that ice on.” His voice left no room for argument. With that, he turned on his heel and left.
“Do you need help getting up?” Emmie asked, her voice soft.
I didn’t know how to act. All I wanted to do was pull her into me and breathe in the smell of her perfume. A smell that slowly started to disappear from my bed sheets. I wanted to kiss her until I forgot the pain, but her words of us being a mistake still rang in my head.
She was only here because I got hurt, not because she wanted to fix things. Or maybe she did want to fix things.
I didn’t know. All of it felt overwhelming. I needed to change and get out of here, the rest could wait.
“I think I got it.”
Knowing it would hurt, I heaved myself out of the bed in one motion, a pained grunt leaving my lips as my hand reached out to steady myself. Instantly, Emmie was there, a hand gently on my stomach.
“Please let me help.”
I was weak when it came to her. All she had to do was look at me, and I’d fall to my knees begging. Even after what happened a week ago, I’d still do anything for her.
I gave her a nod, letting her drape my left arm over her shoulders, that hand still on my stomach and careful of the ice on my right side. I always towered over her, but more so now with my cleats on. Despite that, she fit perfectly under my arm, like she belonged there.
The two of us made our way to the locker room, my cleats clicking against the pavement as we stepped through the doors to an empty room. Even though we were a good distance from the field, I could hear the fans cheering. It pissed me off that I wasn’t out there doing my job, but I also knew I was too distracted today. If I hadn’t gotten hurt, I probably would still have lost us the game with how I was playing.
I headed for my cubby, hoping the pain meds kicked in soon since every step sent a shock wave of pain up my side.Emmie slipped out from under my arm as I glanced down at my cleats and pants, wondering how I was going to get them off.
“Okay, I know things are awkward and tense between us, and we have a lot to talk about, but I need you to let me help you change. Can you do that?” Emmie stood there, hands on her hips, that no nonsense attitude I love about her coming out.
I was hurt and angry, but right now wasn’t the time to talk about it. Not when she looked at me like that. Because no matter where we stood, if she asked, I’d always say yes.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I can do that.”
“Good,” she said, already stepping closer. “Because I’m not asking nicely twice.”
Before I could argue, her hands were at my waistband.
“Easy,” I huffed, wincing. “Buy me dinner first.”
“Don’t make this weird.” She warned as her fingers wedged my pants down my hips.
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one taking my pants off, Em.”
“Want me to leave and have you do this on your own?” She squatted down between my knees and glanced up at me. The sight of her was enough to make heat stir in my bones.Do. Not. Get. Hard.
“N-No,” I stuttered, earning a smirk.
I took as deep of a breath as I could, willing my cock to not get hard with her right there. I tried to stay as still as possible as she tugged and yanked my football pants down my thighs. It wasn’t an easy task, thanks to the pads underneath. The uniform pants were meant to keep the pads in place, but it made them a bitch to get off.
I leaned forward, bracing my hands on the metal border of the cubby. Anything to keep my hands occupied so they didn’t reach down on their own and touch her head.
“Lift,” Emmie murmured, tapping my left calf. I did as instructed and lifted my foot so she could slide my cleat off. She repeated the process on the other before working on my pants.
When she reached for the pads strapped to my thighs and waist, I should have been a gentleman and done it myself, but instead, I just stood there. I blamed the pain for messing with my head.
I caught the tips of her ears turning pink, and I knew if she shuffled back a little I’d see her face flushed. I bit my tongue to stop any retort from leaving my mouth. I was with it enough to know making a dirty remark would not go over well.
Thankfully, Emmie was quick. In no time, I was in my boxer briefs. Before it could get any more tense, Emmie twisted on her heels to my locker, rifling through for my pants. I stood there, looming over her. A different image came to mind, one way dirtier than what was before me now. One where Emmie dug her nails into my ass as she took me in her throat.
I willed my cock to behave, praying to anyone who would listen to make sure I didn’t pop a boner. I had no idea where we stood, and the last thing either of us needed was me being turned on. That wouldnothelp the situation.
In no time, Emmie had my athletic pants around my ankles and pulled them up. I couldn’t help but feel smug, noticing her eyes lingering on my crotch before she pulled the pants all the way up to my hips.
