Page 27

In the backseat, Joss chatters about her favorite parts of the game, which aren’t really part of the game at all.

Next to the uniforms, she says the touchdown celebration dances were her favorite part.

I smile in response to Joss's rambling quips, and Lena does the same, but there’s something distant about her expression.

I can’t help but notice she’s a little stiff.

I can feel it in the way her shoulder brushes mine.

Joss is too tipsy to notice anything, like the fact that Lena hasn’t made eye contact with me since we climbed in.

Which is pretty typical for her, but this time it’s different.

Normally, I feel like she’s off somewhere else, wishing she could be anywhere but with me.

This time, though, it’s like she’s too nervous to look my way.

Her eyes are darting, catching glimpses of me every so often, but nothing sticks.

As Ives pulls up to my place, I reach over and squeeze her hand.

For a split second I think she might pull it away, but finally, she turns to face me.

“Ready?” I ask.

She takes a deep breath, bites her bottom lip, and nods.

“Born ready, baby. Let’s go!” Joss shuffles across the seats, barreling over me to get out of the SUV.

Lena calls after her as she stumbles across the pavement, but Joss doesn’t slow down.

We both watch as she rushes toward the open elevator and dives in with a group of people carrying a cooler and a couple bottles of wine.

I assume they’re headed to my place. Which means Lena and I have no time together before we come face to face with another crowd.

Lena calls after her again, but the elevator doors close, leaving Lena with a few choice words about her drunk bff and a hard roll of the eyes.

I hang back, helping her maneuver out as she slides across, careful to keep a hand on the hem of her skirt to anchor it in place.

As much as I want to peek at her smooth, tan legs, I keep my eyes locked on her face.

Her lips are red tonight, my favorite shade, and one that makes her blue eyes pop even more than they typically do.

“Ives, I’ll pay you double if you park and come up to take Princess out. I’ve got something to show Lena before the night gets crazy,” I call to him just before I shut the door.

His lips part into a smile that’s all teeth as he watches me grab her hand. “Say no more.”

After Ives pulls away, Lena drops my hand, but leans closer, her voice a whisper. “You have something to show me?”

“No. I just… I figured we should make a game plan real quick or something. Take a few minutes to get comfortable together before we’re on display again. Collect ourselves or whatever.”

I glance down at her, a little ashamed of my lie. Did I disappoint her? The notion is scrubbed away when her cherry red lips split into a grin.

“Smart boy,” she coos, walking ahead to press the elevator button.

It’s like every urge from the moment I saw her in that skirt consumes me, and my eyes dip down her back.

Each sway of her hips is more mesmerizing than the last. And because apparently I have no self-control, I scan down her legs.

They’re smooth and tan, their length ending in a pair of sexy black boots.

My eyes trail back up, landing on their target.

Lena is gorgeous, anyone can see that. She has the face of an angel, but this is the first time I’ve allowed myself to fully indulge in every curvy aspect of her.

And let me be honest, everything about her is an asset.

Suddenly, I’m staring at a pair of knees. I shift my gaze to focus on a crack splitting the ground below, wishing I could fall into it and disappear.

“Were you checking me out?” she asks, amused.

The elevator pings and opens, and I rush ahead of her as though there’s anywhere to hide inside. “I just thought I should know what my favorite part of my girlfriend is.”

“And have you decided?”

I swallow my embarrassment and turn to face her. “Her personality, of course.”

She laughs and rolls her eyes.

We make it up to my landing and find Joss in the middle of a very tense phone call.

“Everything okay?” Lena asks when Joss finally hangs up.

“Since Graham moved in, nothing has been okay,” Joss says through gritted teeth.

“I told you he sucks. He doesn’t deserve you,” Lena says with no mercy.

Joss slumps forward, defeated.

I don’t know what to say, so I start toward my door, hoping they will follow, and they do, chattering about whoever this Graham is the whole way.

When I get to the door of my condo, it’s cracked.

This is exactly why I don’t throw parties.

First, I check for Princess, who is happily perched on the couch, a group of girls scratching her head and fawning over her.

She’s in heaven, and thank God she’s not out wandering the halls or worse.

Lena drifts past me, making her way through the crowd, acknowledging everyone in her path with a smile or a wave.

It never ceases to amaze me how gracious she is.

This isn’t for show. This is her. For the most part, everyone ignores her like she’s any other party goer.

Most of the guys on the team are pretty high profile themselves.

They aren’t as starstruck as the handful of “plus ones” that have been dragged in tonight.

Despite my profession, I’ve managed to mostly stay out of the public eye, though my dating life recently has kind of destroyed the low profile I’d worked hard to keep.

Being associated with a big name like Ada Lane decimated that completely.

In hindsight, I now realize it’s my fault.

I threw myself into the spotlight. Which means to right the balance of the world, I have to be associated with someone who has an even bigger name.

That’s how it works, right? I watch as Lena weaves through the jam-packed hall and disappears into my room.

That pre-game wobble emerges in my stomach again.

She’s in my bedroom.

Instead of continuing on to the kitchen, I take a detour. My heart thuds in my chest as I approach my room. Taking a deep breath, I ease open the door and spot Lena sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at her toes.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

She inhales deeply, releases it, then pops up to face me with a smile. “Your mom told me you painted the sidelines with your puke before your debut game.”

“That’s what you want to talk about?”

She shrugs. “I thought it was funny. And it made me feel like I know you better than I do. Which is important since we’re supposed to be falling in love.”

My stomach tightens.

“Well, pretending to fall in love,” she amends.

I step closer, standing over her and crossing my arms. “And that’s what does it for you? You’re gonna tell people you fell in love with me when my mom told you embarrassing stories about my younger years?”

“I mean, that does sound a bit romantic, doesn’t it? Kinda like flipping through photo albums together and telling stories about all the years I’ve missed out on not knowing you.”

“You’re pretty nostalgic, you know.”

“I know.” Finally, she lifts her eyes so they meet mine. “If anyone asked, I think I’d tell them I fell in love with you when you took me to the candy store.”

An unexpected laugh explodes from my lips. “You like candy that much?”

“It was just really thoughtful.” She pushes to her feet so her nose is almost brushing my chest. “You better come up with a story, too.”

A story. All of this is fabrication, I remind myself. “I guess I’d tell people that I fell for you the minute you made such a big deal over sour gummy worms.”

She rolls her eyes.

“It shows you have passion.” I grin.

“Yeah, right. You need to know. People will ask.” She stares up at me, a challenge in her eyes. “When did you fall for me, Decker?”

Her skin looks buttery soft in the dim light of my room.

I want to reach up and touch it, but I refrain.

It feels too… intimate. I don’t know if she’d let me, but I want to.

Every time she opens her mouth—even when it’s to insult me—I learn a little more about her, like her a little more.

If I were to answer her question, I think it would be kind of like that.

I fell for her little by little until it was so completely undeniable, I had to confess.

She watches me expectantly, her eyes dipping to my mouth.

I chew my lip, wondering if I should tell her my newest piece to add to our fabrication.

A knock on the door pulls our attention, and before I know what’s happening, Lena’s hands are fisting the hem of my shirt, a rush of chilled air shocking my bare skin.

“Quick! Come here,” she whispers.

Her warm fingers graze my obliques as she pushes to her tiptoes, bringing our faces just inches away.

Without a second thought, I take her lead, closing the space between us and letting my mouth find hers.

For a split second, she hesitates, her lips stiff against mine.

And then they soften, parting ever so slightly to pull my bottom lip between hers.

It takes me by surprise, finally awakening my rigid arms. They wrap around her waist, pulling her in as she tugs the edge of my shirt tighter.

She sinks further into me, and all I can taste, smell, and feel is Lena.

I can’t deny how easy this feels. How real .

And then she stops. And steps back. Leaving me slack-jawed and wanting more.

“Sorry, sorry.” Maleko’s big hands flatten over his eyes like he truly interrupted something.

Lena giggles, stepping closer again and reaching to my face. She draws a thumb across my bottom lip, and my jaw snaps shut. “Sorry about the lipstick. Been waiting to do that all night. I couldn’t hold back anymore.” She turns toward Maleko. “It’s okay. You can look.”

He peeks between his fingers before shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I didn’t know you were… that you were both in here… I didn’t mean to—I'm sorry," he fumbles.

“Chill, Maleko. It’s fine,” I say.

“It’s just that there’s a girl standing on your island threatening to show everyone her backflip? And that it’s just as good as it used to be? I don’t know. She won’t get down.”

"Joss,” Lena groans. She bolts toward Maleko, stopping in the doorway to flash him a quick smile. “Thanks. I’m Lena, by the way.”

“Maleko.” He inclines his head.

And then she’s off to rescue her friend—or everyone else from her friend—like nothing ever happened. Like she didn’t just kind of make out with me.