“You good?” she asks as Pittsburgh takes the field.
“Yep, just fine and dandy.” We smile at each other as music blares throughout the stadium.
Everyone turns to the big screen as an animated video begins. A single tarpon swims along and is then joined by others, creating a school that moves and acts as a single unit. With each twist and turn, the music gets louder, more daunting, and it increases in tempo, my heart matching it beat for beat. The fish approach a boat, and in it are the Pittsburgh Steelers mascot and several of its players. Underneath them, the fish start swimming in a circle until the boat spins so much it loses control, capsizes, and sinks. The crowd roars, fireworks shoot off from the top of the stadium, and our team runs out onto the field. I easily spot Bryan, and my excitement leaps in my throat.
As he runs toward the sideline, he glances up in our direction, and my heart thumps hard in my chest. I give him a small wave knowing that will be the only time he acknowledges I’m here, and it was enough.
A large flag spreads out across the field, the national anthem plays, the Blue Angels fly over, and then it’s time for the coin toss. I track his every step as he makes his way to the center of the field, my eyes glued to his broad shoulders and long legs underneath those tight pants. The flip goes to the opponent, they choose to receive after the half, and then the game begins.
I’d forgotten how exciting it is to watch Bryan play in person. He never looks frazzled, just calm and collected, and this bleeds out to his team. They follow his cues, make the plays, and like that swarm of fish, together they go in for the kill over and over and over again. The opposing team today doesn’t even have a chance, and I feel lucky that I’m here for Bryan.
Of course, all of these people are here to see him play too, to watch him lead this team to another victory, but at the end of the day, I’m the one he wants. They might be here watching him, but he’s going to be looking just for me. That’s a heady feeling, one I welcome, one that instills a bit of possessiveness and makes me completely anxious, but in a good way.
They win the game twenty-eight to three.
“Well, that was exciting,” Camille says. “I swear, it doesn’t matter how many games I watch him play—I still get nervous and find myself holding my breath until the last second clicks away on the clock.”
“I know exactly what you mean. That’s been me for years, but from the middle of my couch.”
She glances over at me, smiles knowingly, and then goes about collecting her things.
Together we walk down to the family room. I’m grateful she’s here, because I’d never be able to find my way alone.
I look around at all the people. I can feel eyes on me, and I’m certain people know who I am and why I’m here. It makes me want to both stand taller and shrink away.
It doesn’t take long before the players start wandering out, and my eyes widen as Bryan is one of the first. His face is expressionless as he looks at the ground, placing one foot in front of the other. He knows I’m here, knows I’m going to be waiting for him, and it’s as if he can feel me in the room. He looks up, and his blue eyes flare as his gaze lands on me, those achingly familiar, electric blue eyes.
He inhales, very slowly, his chest expanding underneath his white button-down and suit jacket. His free hand, the one not holding his bag, curls a little at his side as he looks at me, and my insides follow suit.
Holy moly, he looks so freaking good.
Everyone in the room disappears as we stare at each other, heat rolls through me, and I remind myself I have to breathe.
This guy, what he does to me . . . I feel like I’m going to burst through my skin. It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen him, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he looks even better than he did before. He’s larger than life, and definitely more irresistible than ever.
I can’t wait to get my hands on him.
Approaching slowly, he stops in front of me and bends down to kiss my cheek. The smell of his body wash flirts with my senses, and as his warm lips brush my cheek, my head tilts an infinitesimally small degree toward him.
“Thank you for coming,” he says, just low enough so no one else hears him.
“Thank you for inviting me. You were incredible today.” We aren’t touching, but we may as well be for as close as he’s standing next to me.
Bryan pulls back just a little to get a better look at my face. He’s so familiar and so close I can see the individual hairs in the stubble across his jawline, the silver flecks in his eyes.
“You ready to go?” he asks.
“Yes.” Right this moment, I would go anywhere with him if he asked.
“Good. I’m riding with you.” He turns us toward the exit, and as we start walking, his free arm drapes over my shoulders, pulling me close. I wrap my arm around his waist and together, as one, we leave. A few people call out to him and he nods in response, but not once does he let go. Neither do I.
“What about your truck?” I ask as we make our way into the secure parking lot.
“Jack picked me up.” His voice rumbles through his chest and I feel it. I feel it and him everywhere.
“Convenient,” I say, glancing up at him and smiling.
He grins down at me, and that one little dimple that drives me crazy comes out as he says, “Very.”
Honey Balsamic Blueberry Pie
SHE’S WEARING MY jersey.
Lots of people wear my jersey—lots of girls, even—but for some reason, seeing it on her, standing in the family room . . . it was a really big moment for me. I feel proud. So proud.
I knew people were going to be staring at us, but that didn’t stop me from trying to get to her as fast as possible. Other than James, I’ve never had anyone on the other side of that door waiting for me, and damn did it feel so good. I needed to get us both out of there before I caused a scene.
I’ve also never had a girl over to my house before, at least not one who’s there for me.
One time I hosted our offensive dinner, but other than that, only a few times have Coach or any of the other players stopped by. Mostly, it’s just been James, Jack, and Reid and Camille, and those times are few and far between.
“So, this is where you live,” she states more than asks as I direct her to drive through the private gate, which I’ve opened with an app on my phone.
“Yep.”
She parks the car and we get out silently. Most of the trip to the house was silent, the air between us so thick it felt combustible.
I take her hand, we walk to the front door, and I unlock it then usher us inside. I’d like to say I’m a complete gentleman to her, but again, she’s in my jersey, in my house, it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her, and I need to taste her more than I need air.
Closing the door, I turn to face her, push her up against it, and without waiting any longer, my mouth lands on hers.
A tiny noise escapes her, and the sound shoots straight below the belt.
We’re alone.
We’re finally alone, and she’s one hundred percent on board with this kiss as her hands instantly reach around my neck and her fingers dig into my hair. Tilting her head, I open my mouth wider and consume her. This kiss is urgent, wet, and I don’t leave any aspect unexplored.
Bending down, I reach behind her thighs and lift her up. She wraps her legs tightly around my waist, and I lean into her, flattening her against the door. Her body is now flush with mine, and I try to slow my breathing so I don’t miss any of this, any of her.
Time passes, and it’s time well spent. We make out like we are starved for each other. Hell, maybe we are. This kiss . . . it’s got years and years of aching and longing wrapped up in it, and I never want it to stop. She tastes sweet, like mine, and I plan on keeping her that way.
“Hi, Bryan,” she eventually mumbles against my lips, hers tipping into a smile.
“Hey, you,” I reply, sucking her bottom lip between my teeth and then letting go with a pop. I love
her bottom lip.
She sighs, and my heart swells in my chest. Groaning, I move to bury my face in her neck and just breathe. Her arms and legs squeeze tight as she hugs me. It’s the best hug I’ve ever received.
“It took everything in me to not devour you in front of my teammates, their families—hell, the world,” I murmur against her skin.
She laughs, and it’s the best sound I’ve heard in . . . maybe ever. “I could tell. Everything about you was tense and tight, plus you looked at me as if I was your prey. I wondered how long it would take you to pounce. In fact, I’m surprised you made it all the way home.”
“Trust me, I almost didn’t.”
Pulling back, I rest my forehead against hers and let my heart settle. I’ve been so excited to see her, the apprehension of it and where tonight might lead, I’ve felt overworked the last couple of days.
“I enjoyed watching you today. Thank you for the ticket,” she says, blinking, her eyelashes brushing against my skin.
“You’re welcome. I felt different knowing you were there. I don’t know why. It’s not as if you haven’t seen me play before, but I don’t know. It was just different.”
“I hope it was a good different.”
“It was.”
Leaning forward, I kiss her again, softer and slower this time.
“Thank you for coming home with me,” I tell her.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
That feeling of pride settles in again.
Letting her down, a sigh escapes me as I kiss her forehead.
Grabbing our bags, we move into the house, and I drop them by the stairs. Tucking my hands into the pockets of my pants, I watch as she slowly takes a turn around the living room, looking at my things.
This house isn’t large; after all, what do I need a lot of space for? It’s a simple three-bedroom, old Florida bungalow-style home. It’s a new construction so the kitchen, bathrooms, and floor are updated, but outside of that, what really sold me was the backyard and the river.
The house is set on two lots, giving it more space and more privacy. There is a large white fence that runs down the side edges of the property, and a brick wall shields the front. The gate keeps people out, which is great because the fewer people who know where I live, the better.
“It’s not what I was expecting.” She frowns, and my stomach dips. It never occurred to me that she wouldn’t like it here, and I find that I really want her to. I come from nothing, and I’ve worked really hard to be something. Of all the people in the world, she’s the one I feel the need to impress the most.
“What were you expecting?” My voice is low, and I cross my arms over my chest.
She walks into the living room and runs her fingers across the top of the couch. Yes, my home looks like a guy lives here, but the furniture comes from a respectable company and Camille came in and completed the decorations earlier in the year, adding different shades of grays and blues.
“I don’t know. Something a little more flashy, modern, glamorous.”
“Why?”
“Well, for starters, you make a ton of money now. You’re living high on the hog, so you can afford a certain lifestyle.” She makes a round through the kitchen and then trails off and walks over to the sliding glass doors that lead outside.
“What else?”
“It’s just . . . I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Tell me.”
She doesn’t turn to face me. “It’s been so long, and I guess I had just built up your life to be something else, anything else that was as far away from how you grew up as possible. This house is charming and . . . well, warm, homey.”
Tilting my head, I try to see things from her perspective and think about what she’s said. “You thought I was cold?”
“Distance does that.”
Swallowing, I remain quiet; I don’t know what to say. This is poking into territory I don’t want to visit with her, but I also know this is where her insecurities with me lie. It was definitely easier not having a vision of how she lives day to day, because now I want to be a part of it, but for her, this vision is a hard reality of a life I didn’t include her in.
Watching her get lost in her own thoughts, I walk into the kitchen, over to the refrigerator, and pull out the grouper I picked up early this morning.
“I think I also thought you would have a roommate. It’s very quiet here.”
I hear what she’s not saying: lonely. Sometimes it is, but I’ve always been focused and disciplined. Noise distracts me from doing what I need to do.
“Well, I sort of do have a roommate.” I rinse the fish and then pat it down.
“What do you mean?” She turns to face me.
I wash my hands, walk out of the kitchen, and turn to go up the stairs, knowing she’s following. At the top, there is a small landing and then two doors, one for my room, which is open, and the other for his. Opening the second door, we walk in together, and I hear her gasp.
“James has his own bedroom here?”
“Yep.”
James and I lived together all through college. When he left for the Air Force, we saw no reason for him to part with his things, and I wanted him to always feel like he had a home with me.
“I knew he stayed with you when he’s home on leave, but I didn’t expect this.” She glances back at me, and I shrug my shoulders.
“It was just as easy to have the movers pack his stuff up along with mine instead of worrying about an alternative.”
She walks into the room and picks up a photo he keeps of the two of them and GiGi. It was taken right before he left for the Air Force, and I’m embarrassed to admit how often I’ve stared at grown-up Lexi in the photo.
“Why didn’t he tell me?” she asks without looking at me.
“I don’t think it was intentional. He enlisted, and I offered.”
She nods to acknowledge she heard me.
James and I both felt the same when we were eighteen. Neither one of us wanted to live in the small town of Oakwood, and we were adamant about getting out. He wanted to see the world, and he is, from the sky as a pilot.
“Thank you . . .” She trails off. Her tone is a little sad. I worried she would feel that way, but she’s so selfless that I know deep down she’s happy for James, and for me.
Leaving her with her thoughts, I quickly dip into my room to change out of the suit and into something more casual. When I return, she walks over as I stand in the doorway, steps into me, and wraps her arms around my waist to hug me. I hold on to her for a second longer than needed, because I’m desperate to be near her. Between us, her stomach growls, and I chuckle.
“Let’s go. I need to feed you.” I kiss the top of her head and loosen my hold.
“I won’t say no to that,” she replies as she pulls away. There is a little bit of emotion left on her face, around the corners of her eyes when she smiles, but she’s reconciling with herself, and I love her resiliency. “Are you cooking?”
“Of course I’m cooking.” Taking her hand, I walk her back down the stairs and into the kitchen. “You just wait. You’re going to be amazed by my grilling skills.”
“Grilling skills.” She laughs.
I nod as I open the refrigerator and pull out a platter of vegetables I’ve already chopped, placing it on the counter next to the fish.
“Wow, look at that.” She beams.
“See? You’re not the only one with a talent for food.”
“I’m happy to see this. It looks delicious.” She leans down to smell the fish. It’s fresh off the boat, so it shouldn’t have a strong odor.
“Well, let’s just hope I don’t burn it.”
“You won’t.” She smiles.
Pushing open the sliding glass door, I lead Lexi outside so I can fire up the grill. Taking a glass of wine I poured for her, she walks down to the water’s edge and stops at the small dock. Most of my neighbors have boats, but all I keep tied up down there is a kayak and a paddle
board.
This yard was the main reason I bought this home, and there are two trees close to the water that I hung a hammock between so I can watch the sunlight as it peeks through the branches. I spent most of my life growing up under and in a tree, so it only seemed fitting, and all around the outskirts of the property there is tall grass, the perfect type for fireflies. I’ve never seen any here, this close to the city, but I like to imagine they’re there.
Grilled Grouper Marinade
DINNER WAS AMAZING.
I’ve always liked fish, but what he made for us was out of this world, and the dessert, a grilled summer fruit cobbler—I was in awe when he put that on the grill to cook while we ate dinner. He thought of everything, and whether he realizes it or not, he’s made me feel special.
What’s also made me feel special is that Bryan hasn’t stopped staring at me, not since the moment we walked in the door.
Trust me, I don’t mind, not one bit, but all it’s doing is making me burn. I’m burning for him. I know what’s coming later, and so does he. If anything, this time now is like the longest unspoken foreplay ever. In fact, it’s quite possible that the moment he touches me, I will explode and disintegrate into a pile of sparkly glitter.
After rinsing the last dish, he hands it to me, and I load it into the dishwasher. Other than the faint music in the background, it’s so silent between us, and I’m certain he can hear my heart pounding in my chest as I turn to face him.
Blue eyes stare down at me, asking for permission but not at the same time. There’s a promise in them, one I’m very welcome to receiving.
I’m done waiting. I’ve waited long enough.
Stepping closer, I move into his personal space. He turns us so my back is pressed against the edge of the counter, and my eyes fall to his lips as he wets his full bottom one with his tongue.
“I’m happy you’re here tonight,” he says, his lips barely moving. I’m mesmerized by their shape and the color.
“So am I.”
Last Slice of Pie (Starving for Southern Book 2) Page 13