Sack: Eligible Receivers

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Sack: Eligible Receivers Page 12

by Sarah Curtis


  No one from her group won the costume contest. That honor had gone to an absolutely incredible Hulk—pun intended. If the guy’s muscles weren’t real, he did an amazing prosthetic job and one hundred percent deserved to win. But there was some good news, they’d gotten into the preview screening of the new Marvel movie not due out until next fall.

  It was after midnight before they made it back to their rooms.

  “I’m beat.” Tina tossed her staff to the floor and threw herself onto her bed. “I’m not as young as I used to be. These long hours are killing me.”

  Tina was the oldest of their group at thirty-two, but she was far from ancient.

  “You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll make it through another day.”

  Jessica was the planner of the group and an arduous task driver, wanting to make the most of their trip. “You can sleep in and miss Super Weird Heroes and meet up with us at Super Robot Wars.”

  Tina yawned. “Maybe I will.”

  Ivy went to her bag and pulled out her PJs, tossing them on her bed. “Use the bathroom first before you fall asleep in your makeup.”

  “Good idea.” Tina sluggishly stood and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Ivy stripped off her costume, hearing a thunk as her phone hit the carpeting. After slipping on her sleep shorts and tank, she bent to retrieve it from the pile of fabric and sat on the edge of the bed to power it on after having turned it off for the movie. She’d missed a text from Colt.

  Sorry I didn’t text earlier. Just getting in. Hope you’re having a good time.

  Ivy checked the time stamp and saw it came in about an hour ago. She wondered what he was doing that he was out so late. Not that she was his keeper or anything relationshipy like that. But… she still wanted to know. Not sure if he was already asleep and would fail to answer, she thought a minute about her response and typed—

  Was at a movie screening and needed to turn my phone off. Did you have a good night?

  Ivy paused before hitting send and reread what she wrote. Was that too subtle? She erased the second sentence and replaced it with—

  Late night for both of us. Did you go out?

  She hit send before she could change her mind again. Surprised to see dots appear, she waited while he typed.

  Went to a party with friends.

  Why did that make her stomach dip? Because she was a hypocrite, that’s why. But no matter how irrational and silly it was, she couldn’t get the image of him surrounded by a bevy of beautiful women out of her head. She knew way too much of the goings-on at celebrity parties thanks to TMZ. She tried for blasé and nonchalant.

  Oh, fun. Did you have a good time?

  Parts of it were enjoyable. Met some guys and played basketball then had to babysit some woman for over an hour while Linc hooked up with her friend.

  Ivy wondered which was the enjoyable part. Basketball or the woman. He sent another message while she pondered that for too long.

  What about you? How was your night?

  I didn’t win the costume contest, which was a bummer, but the movie made up for it.

  Let’s see it.

  See what?

  Your costume.

  Oh. I’ve changed into my PJs already. Let me check my photos. Hang on.

  The only photo she had in that outfit was the one where she was sandwiched between Han and Luke. It wasn’t the best shot of the complete getup, but it would have to do. She went back to her text convo, selected the photo, and hit send.

  A few seconds later her phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “What the fuck was that?”

  She pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it as though it would show her the angry person on the other end. And Colt was angry. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. Hell, it didn’t even take an elementary school graduate.

  “Um.” She didn’t get a chance to say more.

  “Never mind the fact you’re practically naked, who the fuck is that hanging all over you?”

  This was the Colt she’d first met at The Parting Glass. And in turn, she gave him that version of Ivy.

  “First of all, I’m not practically naked.” Well, maybe she was, but at the moment, she didn’t care. “I’m more covered than when I wear a bathing suit and most likely more covered than half the women who were at the party you went to tonight.” Yes, if he was going to go there, then so was she. “Second of all, I can wear whatever I damn well like.” Yes, it was a swearing moment. “If I want to parade around truly naked, you have no say. You’re not my father. Hell, you’re not even my boyfriend—your terms!”

  Tina came out of the bathroom, eyes round, and scurried into the other room. Ivy was too wrapped up in her rant to care her friends were probably hanging on her every word. “And third of all—”

  “Ivy,” Colt tried to interrupt but she was having none of it.

  “And third of all,” she stressed in a tone daring him to interrupt her again. “I don’t know who those guys were other than Han Solo and Luke Skywalker. Unlike you and the woman you were with tonight, I was with them less than five minutes.” She didn’t feel now was the time to bring up Lando, so left that part out. “And fourth of all—”

  “And fourth of all,” Colt yelled back, surprising her so much she shut up. “You’re right,” he said quieter now that he wasn’t competing with her. “I don’t have to like it, but you’re right. Of my choosing, I have no say and I’m sorry.”

  That took the wind out of her sails mighty fast. “Yeah, well, okay then.” She heard his deep, rich chuckle over the line. “What’s so funny?”

  “I was wondering when I was going to meet her again.”

  Thoroughly confused, Ivy said, “Meet who?”

  “The Ivy from the first time we met. And though I hate to admit it, I have to say, she makes my dick hard.”

  Ivy glanced at the door leading to the other room and lowered her voice. “Play your cards right and when I get home, I’ll model my Leia slave costume for you.”

  “Just as long as I don’t have to be Jabba.”

  That made her laugh.

  “We good now?”

  “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Oh, and just for the record, that woman I was with at the party.”

  “Yeah,” Ivy said apprehensively, the butterflies in her stomach coming back.

  “I bored her to tears talking about you the whole time.”

  “Now I know you’re lying.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Because there’s no way anyone could possibly be bored hearing all about me.”

  His laughter filled her ear.

  And she decided right then and there it was her new favorite sound.

  It was hard saying goodbye to her friends.

  “Promise you’ll send us weekly emails filling us in on all things you and Colt,” Tina said, giving her a big hug.

  Ivy squeezed back. “Promise.”

  She got into the taxi and waved until the trio was out of sight. Then she sat back in her seat, closed her eyes, and smiled. She was sad to leave but for the first time after one of her yearly trips, she was just as excited to go home.

  Chapter Twelve

  Colt

  Colt wasn’t sure what madness had him sitting in his car at ten o’clock at night waiting for Ivy to get home when he needed to be up at five the next morning for practice. He just knew he had to see her.

  Headlights blinded him for a second before he recognized Ivy’s car. He got out of his and made his way over to her assigned parking spot and watched her pull in. Her car door opened, and her leg appeared before the rest of her followed as she stepped out.

  “Hey. What are you doing here? Didn’t you get my text?”

  “I got it.” He moved forward, caging her in the open car door.

  She looked up at him, frown lines marring her brow. “I would’ve texted when I got home, too.�


  “I know.” He took another small step forward, crowding her in the small space.

  “Then why did you drive over here?”

  “To do this.” He cupped her face and brought his lips to hers. They were soft, yielding, and parted for him as he slipped his tongue inside. That right there—heaven. He missed it. Missed her.

  He ended the kiss slowly, capturing her bottom lip as he pulled back, reluctant to let it go.

  She blinked up at him, her hands, on his hips, moving up to rest on his chest. “My brother’s probably home so we won’t have complete privacy, but you’re welcome to come inside.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve got to go. Practice in the morning.”

  Her eyes widened. “You came all this way just for a kiss?”

  He brushed his thumbs along the silky-soft skin of her cheeks. “Worth it.”

  He took a few steps back, freeing her from the confined space. “Pop the trunk. I’ll help you up with your bags.”

  She pressed a button on her key fob, and he heard the car door slam as he made his way to the back of the car.

  At her front door, he said. “Busy week. Not sure when I’ll be able to see you again. We have our first game on Saturday. I won’t be playing in it, but I still need to travel to Pittsburgh with the team.”

  “Why won’t you be playing?” she asked, slipping her key in the deadbolt and turning the knob to open the door.

  “I don’t play in any of the preseason games. The risk of unnecessary injury is too great.”

  She stepped over the threshold, and he followed her in, dropping her bags in the entry but not going in any farther.

  “So, preseason games don’t count?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Then why play them?”

  “It gives us a chance to evaluate players fresh from the draft and new team dynamics. The next couple of weeks I’ll be watching a lot of game footage.”

  She cringed. “Sounds like fun.”

  He chuckled and grabbed her hand, pulling her to him until her front crashed into his. “What will you do with all your newfound free time?”

  She tipped her head back. “I got a call from Emerson, the owner of The Parting Glass. Remember I did their brand development?” At his nod, she continued, “Well, she referred my services to a frozen yogurt shop that just opened down the way from her. I got a call from the owner on Friday and set up an appointment to meet Tuesday morning.”

  “That’s fantastic. Why didn’t you mention it?”

  She shrugged. “Busy weekend. Slipped my mind.”

  The picture of Ivy wearing practically nothing and enveloped by two men flashed in his mind. That damn photo would haunt him for the rest of his days. He unlocked his jaw and forced a smile. “I’m happy for you. I hope the meeting goes well.”

  “Me, too.”

  Reluctantly, he said, “I better go. Early morning.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? My place is closer to the stadium than yours. You can sleep in an extra fifteen minutes.”

  The idea was tempting.

  Seeing his hesitance, she wheedled, “I’ve got an extra toothbrush.”

  “Okay, you twisted my arm.” He picked her bags back up. “Lead the way.”

  He’d never seen her room. If that’s what an open loft could be called. He was just thankful the bed was positioned far enough back it couldn’t be seen from the floor below.

  “You can set the bags down anywhere. I’ll unpack in the morning.”

  He eyed her suitcase. “I’d ask you to model that sexy costume, but I’m too wiped to take full advantage of it.”

  Ivy chuckled as she pulled a tee from a dresser drawer. “I’ll be sure to bring it with me the next time I visit you.”

  She disappeared into the bathroom and he looked around. A substantial portion of the space was used as a makeshift office. He felt a ping of satisfaction at the sight of the laptop he’d bought her sitting on the desk. A few vintage movie posters filled the available wall space and stacks of books lined the top of the dresser.

  He was still looking through the titles when she came back into the room. “Do you know, I’d never be able to tell your personality based solely on your reading preference.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “You have books ranging from romance to mystery to thriller. But no science fiction or fantasy. Why is that?”

  Holding up a finger, she went to her closet and slid open the mirrored door. “Voila! I like to keep these in some semblance of order.”

  Taking up half the closet space was a bookshelf crammed full of books. Most of the authors he’d never heard of, but he did recognize Tolkien, H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, and, of course, J. K. Rowling.

  She pulled back the flowered comforter to reveal light pink sheets. “I know it’s not quite what you’re used to, but I promise it’s more comfortable than it looks.”

  He eyed the queen-sized bed, worried he’d knock her out at some point in the middle of the night. “You climb in first so you’re against the wall.”

  Following her in, he tucked her back to his front, wrapping an arm around her waist. His fingers found the hem of her shirt and he rested his palm against the flat of her stomach.

  He closed his eyes, his body relaxing, and took Ivy in. The warmth of her soft skin. The scent of her shampoo. Her weight pressed into him. He’d missed all of that. Missed her.

  But it was probably for the best she’d been gone. Having Ivy close was something he couldn’t grow dependent on. Not with the season starting. For the next five months, he’d be living and breathing football. He wouldn’t have time for anything else.

  Not if he wanted to win.

  “Black twenty-two. Black twenty-two. Hut. Hut!”

  Colt watched from the sidelines as his second-string quarterback, cocked his arm and let the football fly. He was looking good. All the hours Colt had worked with him were starting to pay off. In another couple of years, he’d be ready for the spotlight, and Colt would be ready to pass the torch.

  It was their last preseason game, and they were in Philly. In one more week, he’d be out on the field. And he was ready. No, he was more than ready, he was itching for it.

  The last few weeks had been a blur of game prep and conditioning. His mind was sharp, body strong, and priorities focused. But all that had come at a cost.

  Ivy.

  Hers was the last voice he heard every night before falling into an exhausted sleep. But he could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen her. And that wouldn’t be changing for the next seventeen weeks. Longer if they went to the playoffs.

  He missed his time spent with Ivy. And not just the sex—though that continued to be phenomenal. But the way she made him laugh. Her eclectic bits of trivia. Watching the way her smile lit her eyes changing them from a pale gray to a shimmering light blue. Even her fiery temper when he stepped a toe out of line and the quick ease in which she returned to sweet with no lingering spitefulness.

  But the time he spent with her, he also forgot about football. And that was something he couldn’t allow to happen once the season officially started. He needed to stay focused.

  Colt glanced at the scoreboard. Two minutes left to play, and they were up by ten and still had possession of the ball. Even if the other team made a touchdown it was doubtful there’d be enough time left on the clock to score again. Looked like they had this one in the bag.

  Now if they could just keep that up, then the Super Bowl would be in their grasp.

  Ivy

  Ivy looked down onto the football field. Today was a first for both her and Colt. His first official game of the season. Her first live football game, ever.

  Workers, film crews, and cameras lined both sides of the field and Ivy counted seven officials in black and white striped shirts huddled in the center. The game would be starting soon, and she was excited to see Colt take the field.

  “I cannot believe the sweet seats we got.”

 
; Ivy looked at her brother, sitting next to her. Colt had arranged it. When he’d said he’d gotten her and Jason passes to the game, she assumed they’d be sitting in nose-bleed general seating. She never expected to be sitting on the fifty-yard line so close to the field she could practically touch it.

  “Colt explained the basics of the game, but I’m still a little fuzzy on the details.”

  “I’m here if you have any questions.” Jason reached into the bag of chips he held, popped one in his mouth, and crunched in her ear.

  Ivy gave him a shove, pushing him out of her personal bubble. “Do you have to chew so loud?”

  Jason’s eyes widened. “It’s a chip. They’re crunchy. So yeah, I do. Why are you so grumpy anyway? That time of the month?”

  Ivy rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the field. She knew why she was on edge and it had nothing to do with her period and everything to do with the anvil-sized weight of anxiety filling her stomach. She was stressed over the outcome of the game.

  This game—the first game—Colt said was important to win. Said it would set the mood for the whole season.

  So, if it was important to Colt, it was important to her.

  She was ignoring the fact that today’s grumpiness wasn’t a new development. She’d been growing increasingly short-tempered over the past few weeks. Ivy knew why that was, too. And it had everything to do with Colt. Or technically, the lack of Colt. Though they’d touched base every night, filling each other in on their days, she’d barely seen him. And when they did manage to get together, not a lot of talking was done during that time. If they kept up as they were, she wasn’t sure they would last until the end of the season.

  The thought of never seeing Colt again made the anvil in her stomach seem like child’s play compared to the crater-size hole his absence would leave in her chest. She had no one to blame but herself. She knew going in that her time with Colt had an expiration date. She was mad at herself for growing so attached. She should have been smart and protected her heart better. Or smarter yet, walking away before she’d lost it in the first place.

 

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