Page 33 of Run the Play (Nashville Rampage #2)

Chapter Eighteen

R owan

Landry comes limping off the field, and I have to remind myself that he’s not my boyfriend right now.

He’s a colleague and a player on the Rampage who might need my help.

My eyes trail after him as he moves to the bench and plops down with a wince.

My boss, and the head physical therapist, is immediately at his side, addressing the situation.

He examines Landry’s thigh and nods, before his eyes scan around. When they land on me, he waves me over.

“I don’t think it’s a sprain, just gonna be a bad bruise,” John tells him.

“Rowan, take him to the locker room. Apply some ice and see how you feel. There are four minutes left on the clock before half-time. Give it a rest and we’ll see how you feel at the start of the third.

” With that, John walks off, his attention already back on the game.

“Do you need help?” I ask Landry. My eyes rake over him, looking for other injuries.

“Nah, just stay close,” he says, standing, helmet in hand, and limps off toward the locker room. A few of his teammates call out to him, and he waves them off. I don’t know who, because I’m too focused on my patient—on my man—while worry gnaws at me.

In the locker room, Landry moves to the treatment table and hops up. He winces just a little, but it’s enough that I catch it. “I’m going to need to see it,” I tell him. “Take off your pants.”

“Baby, we’re at work,” he teases.

I whip my head around to face him, from where I was getting an ice pack. “You’re hurt. I need to assess the damage myself,” I tell him.

“It’s fine. I took a cleat to the thigh. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. Just a bruise. That’s part of the job.” He shrugs.

“Then why did John send you back here?” I ask him. I stay rooted in my spot while he stands, pulls down his game pants, and hops back up on the table. I can see the bruise that’s already starting to form on his thigh.

“He’s just being cautious.”

Exhibiting my own caution, I approach him slowly, my eyes locked on his injury. Placing the ice pack on the table, I use a gentle touch to examine his leg. It is just a bruise, but damn, knowing he’s hurt does something to me.

Picking up the ice pack, I place it on his thigh, and finally peer up at him. His eyes are hooded as he watches me. “I’m okay,” he says softly.

“I don’t like you being hurt.” I’m fighting back tears, but you can still hear them in my voice.

“That’s part of the job, Roe,” he says gently.

“I know that,” I say, swallowing my feelings. I have no idea why I’m emotional, but here we are.

“Baby, it’s not that bad,” he says, resting his palm against my cheek.

“Then why are you in here and not out on the field?”

A slow smile tugs at his lips. “I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“What opportunity?” I ask, glancing down to ensure the ice is still in the right place. My eyes widen when I see he’s hard. “Landry?”

“You’re breathing,” he says.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“That’s all you, Rowan. It happens every single time I’m close to you. You just so happen to be up close and personal with my cock right now, and your hands are on me.”

“I’m holding an ice pack to your injury.”

“An injury that I made appear worse than it is. Yes, it hurt like a bitch. The limp off the field was legit, but I don’t need to be back here. Once the initial sting of the impact was gone, I was good to go. This is nothing.”

“I don’t understand.” John told me to ice it. Now he’s saying he’s not really hurt? And he’s hard because I’m breathing? My mind is swirling, trying to catch up to what he’s trying to tell me, but there’s too much all at once, along with the fear that gripped me when he limped off the field.

“Roe, baby, I’m fine. I took a cleat to the thigh.

It stung like a bitch. I limped off the sidelines, and it hit me that my girl is a part of the training staff.

I hoped you’d have to tend to me. It’s almost half-time and we’re up by three touchdowns.

I saw the opportunity to do this,” he says, sliding his hand behind my neck and pulling me closer.

His lips touch mine, unhurried. “Worth it,” he says, pulling away.

“You wanted to kiss me?”

He takes my free hand and places it over his hard cock. “I ache for you, Rowan—every damn day. So, yeah, I saw a chance to sneak a kiss, or two,” he says, leaning in and pecking my lips. “You having your hands on me, on my cock, that’s just a bonus.” He winks.

I grip his cock, and he hisses. My touch is firm yet gentle. “I was worried.”

“I’m sorry. This is nothing.” He nods to his thigh. “You know that, Roe. You’ve seen every guy on this team with this same injury. It happens.”

“But it’s never been you,” I murmur.

Tenderness fills his eyes as he leans in and kisses me again.

It’s just as slow as before, but this one feels like more.

“I'd better get dressed. The team will be in here any minute now, and the last thing I need is for them to see my cock hard for my girl. They already have wandering eyes,” he grumbles.

“They do not.” I laugh, releasing him, even though I could stand here with him forever.

“They do. You’re beautiful, and turn heads wherever we go. You just don’t see it. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

My heart stalls when he says love because I’ve completely fallen for this man. It’s different than anything I’ve ever felt before. I thought I was in love with Chaz, but this is more intense than anything I shared with him.

Landry hops off the table and pulls up his pants.

He’s back in his uniform in no time, grabbing the ice pack, and placing it over his crotch.

“Just for a second,” he says, winking. I can feel my face heat.

You’d think I’d be used to his boldness by now, but he still makes me blush.

Honestly, I hope that never goes away. It’s all a part of the chemistry that sparks between us.

“How’s your leg?” I ask him once we’re back at his place.

It’s starting to feel like our place. I’ve spent every night here the past few weeks.

Landry asks, and I can’t tell him no—not that I want to.

There’s nothing in this world that compares to the security and safety I feel falling asleep in his arms.

“I’m fine, Roe.” He drops down onto the couch and tilts his head back. “I’m beat.”

“Are you hungry?”

Slowly, he opens his eyes and hits me with his heated gaze. “Not for food.”

My body instantly heats, craving him and this intense connection we share. “No? You’re always hungry.”

“Didn’t say I wasn’t hungry, baby,” he replies.

“Well, you’re hurt, so I’ll help you get to bed, and then I’ll head to my place for the night.” I don’t know why I say it, because the last thing I want to do is leave.

“No.” His voice is firm. “It’s late, and you’re not driving back to your place on your own.”

“I’m a big girl, Landry.”

“You’re my girl. If you don’t want to sleep next to me, I’ll take the guest room.”

“Why would you take the guest room?” I ask. My heart is pounding in my chest at the way he’s looking at me, it’s as if he’s devastated that I’d want to go back to my place.

“Because that’s where you belong, Rowan. In my bed. In our bed,” he says, shaking his head. “And the mattress is better,” he mumbles.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I don’t want to leave. I just—I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I thought maybe you wanted a night to rest and not have to worry about me.”

“I’ll worry about you if you’re not here. I want you here, Rowan.” He reaches out and takes my hand in his. “This is where you belong. Wherever I am.”

“Including the locker room,” I tease, cutting through the tension. My body heats thinking about earlier.

“If I’m there, then yes.”

“I can’t stay attached to your hip,” I tell him. Partly because I don’t want to be controlled, and partly because it’s the truth. I can’t be next to him twenty-four hours a day.

“No, but if you’re able, I want you with me. Here, the stadium, at my sister's, at a restaurant, I don’t care. I just want to be with you, Rowan.”

I nod and smile, swallowing back the emotions that his words cause. “I guess we should get to bed then. It’s late.”

He stands without issue and offers me his hand.

I take it, lacing my fingers with his. He walks me to his bedroom door and kisses me softly.

“I’m going to go lock up. I’ll be right back.

” He kisses me again and heads back to turn out all the lights and lock up the house.

I was so engrossed in him, in us, I didn’t even notice.

That’s not like me, but I guess in a way it is.

It’s me with him, because he makes me feel safe.

Not just safe, but cherished and loved. I don’t need the words to feel the emotion in every touch, or with every glance my way.

In the bathroom, I brush my teeth and wash my face.

Stripping out of my clothes, I start to change into one of his T-shirts that I brought in here with me, but stop short.

I crave his touch and the feel of his skin against mine.

I keep the T-shirt folded on the counter, turn off the light, and step out of the bathroom.

I rush to what I now consider my side of the bed and dive under the covers, pulling them up to my chin, waiting in the dark of the bedroom for Landry to come back.

The door opens, but I don’t see him. Just a dark image as he slips into the bathroom to get ready for bed. A few minutes later, the bed dips, and he’s sliding beneath the covers.

“You’re too far away,” he grumbles, and we both move at the same time. He hisses out a breath when he feels my bare skin. “What’s this?”

“I wanted to be close to you too,” I confess. “What’s this?” I ask, reaching out and gripping his bare cock, which is already hard.