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TWENTY

LEXI

“I like road games more than I like home games.” Piper sits next to me on the charter plane and drops her purse on the floor. “It’s so exciting to play in enemy territory and see new cities.”

“Hearing away crowds boo me is one of my favorite things in the world,” Maverick says as he shuffles past us, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “I fucking love chirping with guys who think they’re better than us.”

He talks a big game, but the Florida Ospreys have a good chance at beating us tonight.

We’re nowhere near the team we were at this point last season. Our record is sitting around .500 as we head into the middle of November, while a year ago, we were on top of the league standings and riding a six-game win streak. The good news is the boys have started to adjust to Riley being out of the lineup. Coach changes his first line every game, and I can tell he’s close to figuring out the missing piece that will turn things around.

I’m a loyal gal, a proud Stars employee who hopes to finish out her career with the same club because she loves DC and everyone on the team, but there’s a secret part of me that is so damn happy the boys have been blown out three out of their last five matchups.

It’s for Riley’s sake. I know how much he wishes he was out there with them, and every loss shows him he’s not just a number. He’s someone the boys have chemistry with, someone they trust, and you can’t replicate that kind of compatibility easily in this sport.

“They’re probably booing you because you’re a show-off.” Liam drops a kiss on Piper’s head and makes his way to the back to sit with the guys. “And a pain in my ass.”

“Love you too, Goalie Daddy,” Maverick sings.

“Do you all want to get dinner tonight?” Maven files into the row behind us and yawns. “I could use a glass of wine. Or five.”

“Everything okay?” Piper asks, turning around to look at her. “Do I need to talk to Dallas? He might kick footballs for a living, but I’ll kick his ass.”

“No, my husband is wonderful, though I love how feisty you are for being all of five feet tall,” Maven says. “Coordinating kids’ schedules with school and extracurricular activities and careers in two professional sports leagues is exhausting. And I have help! My dad jumps in when he can, and everyone else in my family is willing to drop what they’re doing and lend a hand if need be. I don’t know how the single mothers do it. Remind me to buy Madeline a really nice Christmas present. She’s a damn superhero for solo parenting for as long as she did.”

“Mothers are incredible. I could never do what you all do,” I say, digging through my bag and pulling out my iPad so I can do some work on the flight. “I’m in for dinner, by the way. How about we buy a bottle of wine, order room service, and have a movie night in one of our rooms?”

“Music to my ears. What about you, Piper. Want to join, or do you and your husband have plans?” Maven asks.

“Please.” Piper snorts. “Liam is too superstitious for me to get more than five minutes with him before a game. He has a very strict pregame ritual.”

“Tell us more.” I grin at her. “Does he bite his shirt in the bedroom too?”

“I am not answering that.” She grabs her eye mask and tugs it down her forehead. “But I’ll say I haven’t been unsatisfied in years.”

“Well deserved after years with a shitty ex-husband.” I wave to the rest of the boys making their way on the plane. Ethan and Grant bring up the rear, stragglers like always, and I crane my neck. I haven’t seen Riley yet, and when I can’t find him, I frown. “Where’s Mitchy?”

“Did you miss me, Armstrong?” his deep voice says, and I jerk my chin to look up at him.

“Eavesdropping, Mitchell?” I toss back, and he grins.

“Hard not to when you’re practically shouting my name to the whole airplane.”

Oh , I like this version of him.

It’s the cocky, sarcastic side he doesn’t show too often, but when he does, it’s a sight. Fun, and definitely flirty. Light and carefree. I’m seeing more and more glimpses of this Riley, the guy he was before that night in June, shining through his personality recently, and it makes me match his grin.

“You’d know if I was shouting your name, Riley,” I say, and I’m glad when he drops his head back and laughs.

It’s fun to meet him toe-to-toe and give it back to him. Watching the blush crawl up his cheeks is an added bonus, and lately, I’m noticing more and more how goddamn cute he is.

“You know I shout yours when you give me those horrible exercises,” he says.

“And I love every minute of it.”

“Glad it makes you happy.” His eyes cut over to Piper and Maven, and he smiles. “Have a good flight, ladies. Don’t let Lex get you in too much trouble.”

“Don’t even say it,” I tell the girls when Riley takes the seat next to Ryan Seymour eight rows back.

“I knew about Riley’s crush, but yours is a new development,” Piper says.

“I do not have a crush on him. We tease each other. That’s what friends do.”

“Ah. I remember when Dallas and I were just friends,” Maven chimes in. “And all those times I thought about climbing him like a tree while claiming it was platonic .”

“Same with me and Liam,” Piper adds. “Those are famous last words.”

“Unlike you two, I can control myself.” I pop in a wireless headphone so I can block out whatever else they want to say. “And now you’re drinking alone.”

* * *

The guys play an unbelievable game the next night. They win by three goals, Liam has a shutout, and we celebrate by taking over the hotel bar and restaurant.

Everyone is rowdy and hungry, and I’m delegated to be on nacho duty. I finally get to the front of the line to order at the bar, and I’m cut off by a guy who towers over me.

“Um. Excuse me. I was next,” I say.

“Shit. I’m sorry.” He scoots to the side and motions me forward. I’m thrown off by the British accent, but I take the spot next to him and rest my elbows on the bar counter. “I was so determined to get a basket of chips, I didn’t notice you, and I apologize for jumping ahead in the queue.”

“Ah. See, in America, we call them fries. And lines.”

“Which is arse backward.”

I laugh. “Apology accepted, but I’m sorry too. I’m starving, and I can get snappy if I’m not fed every few hours. We’re coming up on six now, so the danger zone is near.”

“Oh, shit. Sounds like a matter of national security for you to order your food first.” He wipes his hand on his jeans and thrusts it my way. “I’m James.”

“Lexi,” I tell him, smiling at the warmth of his palm against mine. “What brings you to the Miami Marriott on a Wednesday night?”

“The french fries , obviously.” James pauses and gives me a shy smile. “And the beautiful women."

“At least you have your priorities right.” I put in three orders of nachos and spin so I can lean against the bar ledge. “But, really. Why Miami?”

“I’m a pilot. I’m on a layover, and the company thinks thirty hours near a Buffalo Wild Wings is exactly what we want to do with our free time.”

“It’s not?”

“Nah. I prefer The Cheesecake Factory.”

I laugh. “Who doesn’t love a thirty-page menu?”

“You get me, Lexi.”

“Where are you based?”

“London. Heathrow Airport is my second home,” James says.

“I’m jealous. You have the good Cadbury chocolate in the UK.” I spot Riley approaching us, and I wave. He lights up and waves back, the grin he’s wearing falling slightly when he sees the man next to me. “The best you can find in our airports is overpriced Skittles.”

“Works for me. I love tasting the rainbow.” His attention bounces to Riley, then back to me. “Why does this bloke look like he wants to punch me?”

“He’s probably also very hungry, and I’m spending too much time talking to you and not enough time delivering nachos to needy athletes.”

“I can help,” James offers.

“I can also help,” Riley interjects, glancing down at me. “You good, Lex?”

“Wow. Two men willing to help me? There’s a joke somewhere in there. I appreciate both of you offering, but I have the nachos covered. Single, independent woman reporting for duty.” I smile at Riley. “You didn’t have to come over here. The guys have been so excited to hang out with you, and they are way more interesting than me.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “You’re more fun.”

“I’m flattered.” I touch the curve of his elbow, and he looks down at where my fingers sit on his bare skin. “But I’m fine. Really. Go have fun, and I’ll see you on the bus in the morning.”

“Right.” Riley gives me a single nod. “I think I’m going to head upstairs. I’m not in a socializing mood. And I’m not very hungry.”

“Are you sure? I can bring up some food for when?—”

“I’m okay. Have a good night, Lex,” he says.

Riley pushes his way through the group of players congregating around tables. I watch him leave, and I don’t know if I should chase after him. The last thing I want to be is a bother when he wants some peace and quiet, and when he disappears around the corner toward the elevators, I sigh.

“Wow,” James says, and I jump. I forgot he was there. “Poor guy. I didn’t mean to cockblock him.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“Nacho Man. He was clearly hoping you’d kick me to the curb so he could have some time with you. Offering to carry the nachos was a bold move.”

“ You offered to carry the nachos,” I say.

“Yeah, but he offered to carry the nachos .” James smirks. “If you know what I mean.”

“No way. Riley is my friend,” I say, and I feel like a broken record. I need to tattoo it across my forehead so people stop fucking assuming the two of us are together because we spend five seconds interacting. “He would’ve come up if any of the other guys were talking to me at the bar.”

“They aren’t though, are they? They’re keeping their distance.”

“We’re friends,” I repeat, and James shrugs.

“Friends or not, that bloke wanted you all for himself.”

The bartender puts three large trays down on the bar, and I balance them on my arms. “I should go,” I say. “I have an important job.”

“I’ll say. Nice to meet you, Lexi.” James pretends to tip a hat in my direction. “Be good to your friend. He seems like a good one.”

I drop off one of the trays of nachos to the girls and the other to Grant’s table, keeping one for myself. I’m suddenly not in the mood to socialize either, and before anyone has a chance to ask where I’m going, I hightail it for the elevators.

I check my phone with the list of room numbers for the guys and find Riley’s, riding up to the fourth floor and knocking softly on his door.

He doesn’t answer at first, and I’m afraid I’ve made a mistake by coming here. Then the lock clicks. The handle turns, and Riley is there, shirtless with messy hair and glasses sliding down his nose, a pair of crutches in his hand.

“Hi,” I whisper, and he blinks at me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Can I come in?”

He hesitates, fingers wrapping around the door jamb before he nods once and steps back. I nudge my way into his room, and he closes the door behind me.

“Did you need something?”

“Are you in pain?” I point to the crutches. “You haven’t used those in a while.”

“I have to use them at night when I take my prosthetic off, which is what I was about to do.”

“Oh.” I clear my throat and hold out the tray of food to him. He looks down at it, but doesn’t take it. “I brought you nachos.”

“No thanks,” he mumbles.

“What the hell was that, Riley?”

“What was what?”

“Downstairs. You said you weren’t hungry when I know you haven’t eaten anything since the team lunch earlier today. And then you just left.”

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles again.

“I’m a good listener,” I offer.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then tell me so I can try.”

“Why do you care?” Riley sets down his crutches and closes the distance between us. I take a step back, caught off guard by his close proximity. My shoulders press into the door behind me, and I inhale sharply when he puts his palm flat on the door, next to my head. “Why did you bother coming up here?”

“Because I care about you.” I lift my chin, defiant. “I would check on any of the guys if they left abruptly, but it’s you . I’ve spent enough time with you over the last two and a half months to know something is bothering you. And I want to help.”

Riley stares at me, his chest heaving. I wait for him to yell at me. I wait for him to kick me out or tell me I’m overstepping, but he doesn’t.

He brings his left hand close to my face, just like he did that night on Maverick and Emmy’s terrace, and this time, he rests his palm against my cheek. His touch is shaky, gentle, and I inhale a sharp breath.

“That guy you were talking to downstairs was a waste of your fucking time,” he rasps. “I hate him.”

Understanding dawns, and my spine straightens. I wet my lips, and his eyes follow the path of my tongue. “You were jealous,” I whisper.

“Of course I was fucking jealous. He had your attention. And I’m fucking desperate for it.”

“I’m not down there with him. I’m up here with you. What are you going to do about it?”

“What do you want me to do about it?” Riley challenges, and my mouth parts.

His question hangs in the air, the ball in my court, and it’s like time stands still. I can think of a dozen things I want him to do about it, all of which I’ve never considered before.

This is a dangerous line I’m toeing. I’ve never stepped this close to the boundary with a player before. I’ve never even considered it, but it’s like I’m being physically pulled to him. I’m working against a force outside of my control, and when he moves his hand from my cheek to the back of my head, I realize I want him .

Maybe I’ve wanted him for a while now.

“I want you to kiss me,” I say, growing more confident in my decision with every word. Riley’s eyes widen, and I shove the tray of nachos onto the small table to my right. “And then I’d like you to make me come.”

I don’t have time to justify my ask.

One minute, we’re staring each other down.

The next, his mouth is on mine. His tongue is swiping across my bottom lip and I’m letting out a moan as my arms wrap around his neck.

Riley moves closer so his chest presses against mine. He’s warm and his lips are soft, but his kisses are rough. They’re hot and heavy and bordering on the point of aggressive, like he’s been waiting for this moment for years .

“ Fuck ,” he murmurs. The word is sinful. Both steady and unhinged. His mouth moves to my neck, kissing below my ear, and my back arches off the wall. “Are you?—”

“I’m fully aware of what I’m asking.” I put my hand on his chest. His heart is racing. His pulse is jumping. I did that . “And it’s not a mistake.”

“Tell me to stop,” he practically begs. “You have to tell me to stop, Lex, because otherwise, I’m not?—”

“I don’t want you to stop.” It rushes out of me, a tangle in my chest. “I want you to do everything but stop. Kissing. Coming. Both at the same time. Preferably sooner rather than later. Or I’ll go ask James if he can help instead.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Riley growls. He surprises me when he wraps my hair around his wrist and gives it a tug. I gasp when my chin tilts up, our eyes meeting. “You’re so fucking bossy. Is this how I get you to shut up? By giving your mouth something to do?”

Holy fuck.

None of this was on my bingo card for tonight.

I figured I’d eat some food with the team. I’d have a drink or two with the girls then head upstairs to get off with my vibrator after a long shower, but this is so much better .

Because Riley is looking at me like he’s a man starved, like he needs to kiss me again right this very second , and I’ve never been good at denying someone what they want.

“Come on.” I run my fingers through his hair. “Doesn’t it sound fun? It’s only one night,” I say.

“One night,” he repeats, weighing the words. “And then we?—”

“Pretend like it never happened.”

“Would that make things awkward between us?”

“I won’t be awkward if you won’t be awkward. We’re both adults, right?”

He stares at me again, and his attention is unnerving. It makes my nipples hard and my underwear wet. I wait with bated breath for his answer, and it comes in the form of a smile. With his thumb tracing down the curve of my jaw and his mouth against my ear.

“Fuck it,” he whispers, kissing me again. “One night. Let’s play, Lexi.”