by Max Monroe
“Uh…Well… Quinn is actually 2A.”
“What?” she asked on a shout, and I held my index finger up to my lips to shush her.
“I’d prefer to keep this conversation between us, not the entire plane.”
“Quinn is 2A? You mean Quinn Bailey? The flipping quarterback for the Mavericks?”
I nodded once in confirmation.
“Shut the fuck up!” she shouted again and proceeded to go Elaine Benes on me, shoving my chest with both hands until my ass bounced into one of the galley cabinets.
So much for keeping this conversation between us…
“Ow,” I muttered and rubbed at the cheek of my ass. “No need to resort to violence.”
But she didn’t give a shit. She was too amped up over the news I’d just delivered.
“So, what is going on with you guys, then?” she asked, her eyes wide and inquisitive. “Wait…are you, like, dating?” Her eyes grew even wider at her own words. “Oh my God, if you tell me you’re dating Quinn Bailey, I might have a stroke.”
“Take a breath, girl. We’re not dating,” I responded honestly. “We just met.”
I didn’t really know what the fuck we were doing, but I knew we weren’t dating. At least, we’d yet to go on an actual date. I was pretty sure him stalking my flights didn’t really count…
Nikki stayed quiet for a long moment until her face brightened up like a light bulb. “Oh my God, I’ve got the best idea ever.”
“What?”
“You need to date him.”
“That’s your brilliant idea?” I asked on a laugh. “Pretty sure I can’t just decide something like that on my own. It takes two willing participants to equal a date.”
“Believe me, Cat. He wants to date you.”
“How in the heck would you know that?” I asked. “You literally just found out that I knew him. Not to mention, you’re not the most observant. You didn’t even recognize him the last time he was on our flight.”
“Again, I was having a period rage moment. I was just trying not to strangle passengers during that flight. But I know what I’m talking about here.” Nikki held open the curtain until both of our eyes could see directly down the center aisle of the plane. “And I know it because of that.”
“Because of what?”
“The fact that I can literally see the back of Quinn Bailey’s head on our plane,” she responded and shut the curtain again. “A man doesn’t fly to Birmingham and back to NYC in the same fucking day because he just felt like flying. There is only one reason a man would purposely take a woman’s flight without any need to go to the intended destination.”
“And what reason is that?”
“Because he totally wants you,” Nikki answered and clapped her hands together. “Holy hell, Quinn Bailey wants you. This is like one of those Lifetime Cinderella movies. Oh my God! I can’t fucking wait to go to your wedding. Mr. Miller is going to lose his fucking shit when he finds out we’re going to Quinn Bailey’s wedding!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I muttered and placed a hand over her mouth before the entire plane started listening to our conversation. “First of all, stop being so fucking loud. And secondly, slow your roll, Nik.”
She pulled my hand off her mouth and just grinned.
“Seriously,” I stated firmly. “I barely know the guy. I’m definitely not Cinderella, and no one is getting married.”
“No one is getting married…yet,” she answered with a wink and then headed back toward the front of the plane without another word or giving me the chance to refute her ridiculous prediction.
My friend had lost her freaking mind. Quinn Bailey wanted me?
That sounded a bit crazy…right?
It sounds crazy, but the proof is right in front of your eyes, sitting on your flight again, Cat…
Instead of driving myself crazy analyzing Quinn Bailey’s motives, I busied myself with getting both galleys ready while Nikki did final checks before takeoff.
Maybe by the time we landed in NYC, I’d find the confidence to just straight up ask him what the deal was…
Oh, hey, Quinn. How are you? This might sound weird, but it kind of feels like you’re stalking me, and I’d really like to understand why…
Jesus. Yeah. I’d definitely need to work on my approach.
Besides the fact that everyone on the plane realized Quinn Bailey and Sean Phillips were on our flight, and an impromptu autograph and selfie session had taken place in the middle of first class, the ride back to JFK had been otherwise uneventful.
Kidding. It had been a bit of a whirlwind assisting Quinn and Sean with keeping passengers—and apparent superfans—from trying to take over the plane with their Mavericks mania.
But Nikki and I had been a good team, and the guys had been nothing but generous and patient toward their fans.
It was still pretty weird, though. Seeing Quinn signing autographs and being adored by his fans…again.
Even when you weren’t the actual person, but the outsider watching situations like that unfold, I wasn’t sure it was something someone could ever get used to.
I mean, how did he deal with it on a daily basis? How did his non-famous friends and family deal with it? How did someone like Quinn Bailey ever have a relationship when his life was surrounded by the constant potential for chaotic situations like the one I’d just witnessed on the plane, and before that, when he’d gotten off the train in Birmingham?
I honestly didn’t know the answers to those questions.
All I knew was that we were nearly to the point in the flight where I’d have to tell everyone to strap in, do final checks, and clean the lingering trash from refreshments as we started our descent into New York.
I knew I was working and he was being watched by just about everyone on the plane, but it felt painfully anticlimactic that he’d gone to all the trouble of flying to Alabama and back and we hadn’t even had a chance to talk.
I was pushing the coffee maker back into its cabinet and locking the door into place, my face a pout full of sad thoughts, when big hands grabbed on to my hips from behind and squeezed.
“Holy shit!” I whisper-yelled, my hair flying out in an arc as I spun around. Quinn’s smile was downright roguish as he leaned forward and put his lips to my cheek.
His breath fanned warmth across my skin as he spoke. “So good to see you, kitten.” My eyes widened, wondering if someone might be watching us, but Nikki pulled the curtain shut to the galley and gave me a thumbs up over Quinn’s shoulder.
Minty notes flirted with my nose as Quinn shifted the gum in his mouth to the other side. “Five hours of seeing you I’ve gotten,” he murmured softly. “Still, it’s even better to be able to touch you.”
Yeah, I agreed. My cheek still pulsed where his lips had touched.
“You took these flights just to see me,” I said. It was fact, pure and simple, but still, I expected an answer to my non-question.
He had no problem taking the hint.
“Yep.”
The captain sounded the bell to signal the beginning of our descent, and without prompting, my lips turned down into a small frown.
Quinn smiled and lifted a hand, smoothing the unhappy line in my cheek with his thumb. “That sound means I have to leave you alone, huh?”
I bit my lip and nodded, and he tucked my loose hair behind my ear, gave my hip a gentle squeeze, and disappeared back behind the curtain..
Good God, I’m fucked.
By the time Sean and Quinn had been safely escorted off the plane by airport security, and the last passenger had exited the main doors, Nikki and I had quickly finished up our final tasks before calling it a day.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
“Girl, I’m more than ready.”
Grabbing both of our carry-ons from the flight attendant closet, I handed hers off and wrapped my fingers tightly around the handle of mine.
“It’s a shame the guys got noticed on our flight and needed the assi
stance of airport security to leave the plane.”
“What do you mean?” I looked at her curiously as we walked the long hallway toward the gate doors.
She shrugged one bony shoulder. “I was just kind of hoping you two would get to chat for a little bit longer than the half a freaking minute on the plane. Maybe grab a bite to eat after the flight. Get naked at his place.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes at the same time. “You’re such a romantic.”
“I know, right?” Nikki grinned. “It should come as no mystery that Mr. Miller and I know how to keep things spicy in our marriage.”
“And how exactly do you two manage that?”
She pushed open the gate doors. “A lot of Chinese takeout and Netflix and chill.”
Soft giggles left my lips. “That sounds surprisingly amazing.”
To be honest, it did. One day, I hoped to find that perfect someone to just spend nights in wearing sweats and eating Chinese without a care in the world.
“Well…” She paused, her words and her feet. “Maybe you should see if he’s interested in something like that?”
I stopped and looked back at her. “Huh?”
Nikki nodded in the opposite direction, and I followed her eyes across the main aisle of the terminal until they landed smack-dab on Quinn.
There he stood, waiting for me outside my gate. Again.
I was starting to see a pattern here…
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” She patted my shoulder and leaned in to whisper into my ear. “And you better tell me every-fucking-thing.”
“Deal. Although, I’m not sure my reality can live up to your fantasies of marriage and Lifetime Cinderellas.” I grinned, and she just rolled her eyes as she started to walk away. “Oh, and have a nice night with Mr. Miller!” I called toward her departing back.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to find us watching season two of Stranger Things!” She waved over her shoulder. “Night, Cat!”
I watched her walk away for a brief moment, before bringing my eyes back to Quinn. He still stood in the same spot, but this time, the smile on his face was what I noticed the most. It was infectious and seemed to make its way from his lips, across the tiled terminal floor, all the way to my lips.
Damn, he was good.
“You waited for me,” I said once I made my way over to his tall frame. “Again.”
“I did.”
“And you stalked me today.”
He smirked. “I did that too.”
“Is there a reason for the stalking?”
Quinn’s eyes sparkled, and instead of actually answering my question, he asked, “So, how about that date, Kitty Cat?”
I was lost for words as I wandered in the blue pools of his eyes, and he waited in silence as I stared at him mutely.
Quinn leaned forward, done waiting for the silence to break on my end, pressed a soft kiss to my cheek—the second of the fucking day!—and whispered into my ear, “Say yes.”
Goose bumps rolled up my spine in delicious waves.
I couldn’t hold back my answer any longer.
“Yes.” One word. But a definitive one at that. I smiled as it left my lips, and his answering expression mirrored mine.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, grabbed my carry-on, and led us in the direction of the exit.
“Tonight work for you?” he asked, and a soft, amused laugh rasped out of my throat.
“Uh… It’s like midnight, Quinn,” I stated the obvious truth. “I’ve been on a plane all day. You’ve been on a plane for half the day. I’d prefer to go on our date not smelling like stale airplane air and peanuts…”
“Okay. You’ve got a point.” He smirked. “How about tomorrow night?”
Thank everything, I’m off tomorrow.
“That sounds perfect.”
“Any special requests?”
“Nope,” I answered honestly. Just you.
The only thing I needed and wanted out of our date was more time with him.
“Don’t worry, Kitty Cat. We’re going to have fun tomorrow.”
When it came to Quinn Bailey, I was pretty certain he could have taken us to an electric chair and it would have been fun, but I chose to keep that little remark to myself.
There was nothing wrong with making a man work for it, right?
“Take a water break!” Coach Bennett yelled just after the sound of the whistle.
Sweat ran like a river over ninety percent of my body, so I didn’t fucking argue.
Practice in the summertime heat reminded me why we played the regular season in the fall, and it made me a little less resentful at playing in the occasional snowstorm.
At a jog, I moved toward the side of the field, the rest of my team a flock behind me. Sean ran up close, slapping me on the back of the helmet before I could get it pulled off, and cut in front of me to grab one of the water bottles support staff had ready on the sidelines to pass out.
Cam Mitchell followed his lead and went to cut ahead of me, but Sean elbowed him back. “Hey, whoa,” he said to Cam. “I earned this. Sacrifices were made for the greater QB good. You go behind him.”
I rolled my eyes, but unfortunately, Sean’s little speech got some of the guys inquisitive. “Oh yeah, Li’l Sean?” Jimmy Thompson, the kicker, asked. “What you’d do to earn the privilege?”
All of it was talk, a bunch of ballbusters flapping their gums about a pecking order that didn’t exist. But once again, Sean played right into the game, outing me to everyone. “Bailey is a fucking legend, and I paid witness, that’s what.”
I bit my lip and tried to blend into the crowd, but several of the guys started shoving me from behind, trapping me in a churning semicircle as Sean continued with his grand tale.
“Two flights, down and back, we flew to Alabama yesterday, all so QB here could mack on the stewardess.”
“Ohh,” Teeny yelled dramatically, stirring the pot.
I shook my head, muttering under my breath, “They’re called flight attendants now.”
“Uh-huh,” Sean hummed. “Little hot chocolate cutie with soulful brown eyes.”
“Sean,” I warned.
He just smirked. “Kitten, as he calls her.”
The whole team crooned, catcalled, and hollered, and I worked hard not to blush.
“Wait,” Cam said, pausing just long enough to smirk. “Is this the fucking kitten everyone on Instagram has been asking all of us about?” He raised his voice to mimic a female fan. “Oh my God, Quinn got a kitten? What’s its name, Cam? Have you met it? Have you had to cat sit?”
“Holy shit!” Teeny yelled. “QB’s been getting a little something something and keeping it to himself!”
“Cut it out!” I ordered, but I allowed my lips to curve into a smile to take some of the harshness out of it. “You’re supposed to be hydrating, not gossiping. Unless you think gabbing about my love life is going to keep you from collapsing on the field?”
Sam Sheffield’s smirk was ornery. “I don’t know, QB. I’m pretty sure a little dirt on you could keep me going for a while.”
I laughed and gave my mouthy center a shove in the shoulder. “How about two hours?” I asked. “That’s how long you have left out here. And I know you’ve been losing water,” I noted. “Every time you bend over in front of me to snap the ball, I see the line of sweat between the cheeks of your ass.”
“Ohh,” Teeny yelled. “QB got jokes today, fellas!”
In truth, what I had today was desperation. Time ticked like molasses as I tried not to think about my date with Catharine tonight. Of course, it wasn’t that I didn’t actually want to think about it so much as, if I let myself, it would be the only thing on my mind.
I wasn’t really looking for that kind of physical pain. Because, trust me, any time spent on the field with the guys mocking me endlessly best be done with a whole fucking boatload of concentration. One misstep, one flicker of mental uncertainty, and I’d be flat on my back, trying to extricate my lu
ngs from the back of my ribcage.
Plus, crutches wouldn’t really match the outfit I had planned.
So I had to change the subject, and I had to do it fast, before I lost myself to thoughts about her and ended up showing up on her doorstep via stretcher.
Just in time, Coach Bennett blew three sharp bleeps on the whistle, and I didn’t have to try to get my team’s asses in gear anymore.
They moved all on their own, turning their bottles of water upside down and hosing their mouths like animals.
Empties littered the ground as players dropped them and took off toward the center of the field again at a jog. Just like during a game, when the whistle blew, time waited for no man.
That’s why the team had people they paid to collect all the bottles, haul them in for cleaning, and come back promptly with an entirely new set.
Precision playing took over soon enough as we set up again, running hard and slamming bodies all in the name of getting a ball from one end of a field to another.
Sean was on fire today, picking balls out of the air like he was predestined by God himself to do so.
I hoped like fuck he’d keep playing like that as we headed into the season. After last year, a season where we’d found ourselves in the play-offs with the potential to go all the way—but come up painfully short—I was hungry for it all this year.
An undefeated season, flawless play-offs, and a win in the ultimate championship—the Super Bowl—at the end of it all.
With all that in mind, I pushed myself harder than I had in weeks, using speed I didn’t know I had and putting everything and then some into the strength of my arm.
Coach Bennett pulled me aside as the rest of the team filed into the tunnel, heading to the locker room to shower up, when we finally finished a couple of hours later.
“Fucking outstanding performance today, Bailey.” He looked me up and down, from the top of my sweat-drenched head to the shake in my tired thighs. “I see you’re spent, so make sure you get good rest tonight, okay?”
I swallowed hard before reciting my lie. “Sure, Coach.” I hoped to God I wouldn’t be spending my date with Cat resting.
He gave me a hard smack on my shoulder pad. “Shower up.”