Page 27

Chapter twenty-six

Hudson

She came. She’s actually here at my game.

A part of me thought she might back out, might have decided at the last minute that it wasn’t worth it, that the risk of her dad possibly connecting dots between us would be too much. But there she is, in the stands, watching. Even from here, I can pick her out, sitting among the crowd like a beacon. Her hair’s pulled back, and she’s wearing the hoodie I gave her the other day. It’s big on her, but damn, does it look better on her than it ever did on me.

I can’t quite explain the warmth running through my veins at the sight. It’s like someone lit a fire in my chest, and it’s burning brighter every time I glance her way. Daphne came to my game. Daphne’s here for me. Friend, my ass.

And luckily, I’m playing my ass off. Every snap, every tackle, every read. It’s like my body’s moving on instinct, the adrenaline mixing with something else. I want to show her I’m a damn good player who can make a career from this and support her and the baby in every way she’ll let me.

When I sack the quarterback in the second quarter, the roar of the crowd barely registers. My eyes dart up to where she’s sitting, and I catch the faintest glimpse of her cheering, clapping, smiling. That smile? I’d trade every stat on the board just to keep seeing it.

The game’s a blur after that, but in the best way. I don’t screw up; I don’t overthink. It’s one of the best games I’ve played all season, and when the clock runs out and the final whistle blows, a sensation I’ve never felt before washes over me. The game feels different now. Winning still matters, but not in the same way it used to. Now, it isn’t just about me. It’s about proving I can be someone worth looking up to. The thought nearly puts me on my ass right here in the middle of the field.

I barely wait to celebrate with the guys before my eyes are back on the stands, searching for her.

But she’s not there. The spot where she sat is empty now, the hoodie-clad figure gone. My stomach twists. Did she leave already? I scan the crowd again, hoping I just missed her, but there’s no sign of her.

Back in the locker room, I try to shake it off. The guys are hyped, music blaring, everyone shouting and celebrating the win. I should be riding the high with them, but my phone buzzes on the bench beside me, and I grab it, my heart skipping a beat when I see her name.

Daphne

You played amazing tonight x

A smile tugs at my lips as I reread the message.

“Yo, Hudson!” Benny calls out, slapping me on the back. “Party at mine tonight. You coming?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I say, an idea forming in my head before I can overthink it. Typing quickly, I send her another text.

Hudson

Thanks for coming. It meant a lot. Hey, some of the guys are throwing a party tonight. Just a small one, nothing rowdy. Would you want to come? It’d be great to have you there…you know, as my newest friend.

I hit send before I can second-guess myself. Whatever happens, I’m glad she was here, but I know I’m pushing my luck. She’s texted me a few times this week, saying she’s feeling sick in classes, so chances are she doesn’t want to hang around with a bunch of adrenaline-filled athletes. And honestly, I’d be just as happy if she wanted to watch more trash TV together instead.

Two minutes later, my phone buzzes again.

Daphne

Are you sure it’s okay? Like am I allowed to party with a secret baby on board? Obviously no drinking, but… I don’t know what I’m even saying…

A grin spreads across my face, and I fire off a quick reply.

Hudson

I’ll protect you both. I’m not drinking tonight, so I’ll come get you. Be at your place in fifteen x

When I pull up outside her dorm, I send her a quick text to let her know I’m here. Moments later, the door opens, and she steps out, her black fuzzy soft jacket thing snug around her. I get out of the car to meet her halfway.

“Hey,” I say, smiling as I open the passenger door for her. “You look great.”

Her legs look endless in those black pants, and I can’t wait to see how perfect her butt looks.

She laughs softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and a flash of pink catches my eye on her wrist. A scrunchie, I think. I want to steal it, to have something of hers. “Thanks. I’m still not sure this is a good idea, though.”

“If it’s not, and you’re uncomfortable, we’ll leave. Deal?”

Nodding, she climbs into the car. As I settle into the driver’s seat, I glance over at her. “You’ll be fine. I’ve got you.”

The drive is short, which is a good thing, because she’s wearing that same perfume she wore the night we met, and it’s messing with my head and my body.

When we get to Benny’s, the crowd is going strong. I park and walk her inside, keeping a hand on the small of her back to guide her through the throng. Miles spots us first, his eyes flicking to Daphne, and then to me, his grin widening.

“Look who finally showed up,” he teases, clapping me on the shoulder. “And you brought the real MVP.”

Daphne chuckles, a little color rising into her cheeks. “I don’t know about that,” she says as she glances up at me.

“Trust me, you are,” I say quietly.

“Yay, you’re here!” Quinn says, pulling Daphne into a hug, which she reciprocates despite the surprise.

“I couldn’t miss a party after that win,” Daphne says.

“Will you dance with me later? Indie never dances and Miles has two left feet. I love the man, but seriously.”

I’m about to throw in a joke about Miles, but the thought of Daphne on the dance floor, surrounded by my teammates, along with strangers hands that don’t belong anywhere near her, hits me sideways. The idea of someone else’s fingers on her waist, even accidentally, sets my jaw tight.

“We’re gonna get a drink,” I say, forcing my voice to stay even.

Daphne looks at me, then back at Quinn. “Find me later.”

When I tug her hand, she follows. There’s zero chance of that dance floor being graced by Daphne tonight.

Making our way to grab drinks, a group of girls crosses our path. One of them steps closer, her hand lightly touching my arm as she leans in. “Hey, great game tonight,” she says, her smile lingering just a little too long.

“Thanks,” I reply politely, stepping slightly to the side so I’m closer to Daphne. She watches the interaction with raised eyebrows but says nothing.

Another girl chimes in, laughing as she brushes her hair over her shoulder. “I swear, you were unstoppable out there. Seriously, do you ever take a break from being amazing?”

I chuckle awkwardly and glance at Daphne. “I think you might be exaggerating a little.” Keeping my tone light, I’m hopeful they can read how uninterested I am.

One of the girls leans in a little too close as she laughs. “You’re so funny,” she says, though I can’t remember actually saying anything particularly funny. Stepping back, I turn just enough to angle toward Daphne.

“So, uh, you ready to grab those drinks?” I ask her directly, ignoring the girls still standing there.

Daphne raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained, and moves toward the kitchen. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to interrupt all…this,” she says, gesturing vaguely.

“You’re not.” I give the girls a polite smile before walking away with Daphne. The group murmurs something behind us, but I don’t bother listening.

As we head toward the drinks, Daphne finally lets out a quiet laugh. “Wow, you really are a magnet, aren’t you?”

“Not really,” I reply. “They’re just…friendly.”

“Friendly,” she echoes. “Sure.”

We grab our drinks, soda for me, but I notice she just gets water. “You don’t like soda?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I don’t like the bubbles.”

I file that away as we head back to the living area. There’re tons of people around us, but she’s quiet, her gaze flicking over to me, as if she’s thinking something through. I’ve never been good at reading people and guessing what they’re thinking, but trying to figure out what women, in particular, are thinking feels like a totally different language.

“You okay over there?”

She nods, but it’s entirely unconvincing.

“Once more with feeling?” I smile, nudging her.

She fully turns to face me, a set in her shoulders and her lips in a line that tells me she’s annoyed, maybe? I’m trying so hard to learn her here.

Her suddenly fired-up eyes flick to the cap on my head, and her nostrils flare. Okay, this is her annoyed, for sure. Note to self: she’s quiet when she’s annoyed about something. “You know why all the girls throw themselves at you, right? It’s because you’re wearing a backwards hat”

I almost spit out my drink. “What?”

She nods, resolute in her words. Is she really annoyed over the cap? Or is this like a baby hormone thing? I don’t dare ask. “Yeah, it’s literal kryptonite for girls. That’s probably why they’re throwing themselves at you. That and your pretty face.”

Then it all clicks. I smirk, leaning closer, looking at the way those dark lashes fan out so perfectly, highlighting her eyes as I run my hand over my covered head. I think Daphne might be jealous…and I like that way more than I thought I would. “Does the hat have you feeling some kinda way, Daph?”

“Please.” With a scoff, she beings inspecting her nails, not meeting my eyes.

“Or is it that you’re wanting my attention instead of other girls having it?”

Her cheeks darken, and she lifts her chin defiantly, never breaking our connection. I decide right here and now that she’s kidding herself about us being friends. If she’s this riled up over a little conversation with other girls, I know she’s feeling something for me. “I’m just saying, if you want less attention, lose the hat. It probably won’t help, but it might.”

Grinning wider, I can see she’s trying to brush me off, to ignore the rising heat between us, but there’s no way I’m letting her get away that easily. I step closer, setting my cup down on the side without breaking eye contact. Slowly and intentionally, I watch her lips part before I reach up and pull the hat off my head, giving it a playful twirl between my fingers before gently placing it on hers.

The moment it settles, she freezes. Her breath hitches, her hand instinctively rising to adjust it, but she doesn’t pull it off.

Damn, she looks cute. No—scratch that. She looks downright edible.

Her wide baby blue eyes meet mine, and for a second, it’s like the air between us disappears. I lean in just enough for my voice to be low, meant only for her, my lips brushing her ear. “Now, I’m no cowboy,” I murmur, “but I know the rules. Wear the hat, ride the football player.”

A quiet, almost inaudible gasp escapes her parted lips as her cheeks flush the prettiest shade of pink again. I pull back slightly and don’t miss the way her gaze flicks to my mouth, hesitation and desire warring in her expression.

“That’s not how that goes,” she finally manages, her voice barely above a whisper, but the way her fingers brush the brim of the hat tells me she’s not so sure.

“I think it should be,” I reply, placing my finger under her chin to tilt her head higher to me. “I like you in my clothes…but I remember very clearly how much I liked you naked, too.” Her breath hitches, and I swear my dick jumps at the sound.

Looking down at her chest rising and falling in quick succession, I can’t help the smirk pulling at my lips. I grab her wrist, the one with the pink scrunchie, and slip it off with ease, placing it on my own. She doesn’t stop me, doesn’t do much except gape at me, but there’s a definite fire in her eyes, like she wants this but won’t let herself have it.

I don’t want anyone else, and I know I wouldn’t be okay with anyone else wanting her either, but that feels like a weighted confession, so I keep that to myself for now. I’m new to relationships. I’m new to being the guy she’d want to spend more than one night with. But since this is a permanent situation, and I like the girl more than I’ve ever liked anyone, I’m struggling to want to stay away.

“I know you said no dating, princess, but I’m going to wear you down.”

That sweet tasting tongue darts out to wet her lips, but she doesn’t take the hat off.

“That scrunchie doesn’t come with magical powers,” she says as her eyes flick to the fabric around my wrist. That stubbornness is very attractive right now.

I lift my arm, inspecting it, flexing just for good measure. “No? Huh, I’m keeping it anyway.”

Her gaze lingers a beat too long on my arm before she catches herself and looks away, biting her lip.

“I don’t think you get how hard I’m trying not to let you wear me down.” Her words are nearly swallowed by the music and noise around us. Maybe that admission was meant for her and not me, just an escaped thought before she could rein it in.

But it’s too late. Now I know she’s fighting it, us. And that knowledge feels powerful. It makes me even more determined to win her over.