Love on the Sidelines: A Quick Snap Novella

by Tarrah Anders

  We finally get inside and we’re ushered immediately to the back of the bar.

  “I apologize for that, sir. We weren’t alerted that you were coming, I’m not sure how they found out you were coming here.” The bartender apologizes. “What can I get you guys to drink?”

  “I’ll take just a glass of merlot.” I say politely.

  “I’ll have a whatever dark ale you have on tap.” Randy replies.

  “Should you even be drinking?” I pin him with a look.

  “I shouldn’t, but it’s rare that my baby sister will agree to be out with me in public. So I’m kind of celebrating.”

  “Yeah, people are going to think that we’re dating now.” I tell him.

  “Ew, gross. But at least you came out for a drink.” He grins, “the interviews going good?”

  “Yup, they’re going fantastic.”

  “Nice. So you’ve been interviewing both players and the coaches?” He asks.

  “And the team owner. Just a brief perspective from them.” I say as he nods.

  “Did you get a chance to interview Wilkens?” He asks.

  I can feel my body react to his name. I look down at the napkin on my lap and avoid eye contact until I can feel my face not overheating.

  “Mila?” Randy asks. “Hey, did you hear me?”

  I look up at him and he looks confused.

  “Are you okay? Did you hear me?”

  “Huh? No, sorry. Just thinking about how people are going to perceive us being out in public together. Sorry.” I lie.

  “Don’t worry about shit people may make up. Anyway, I asked if you’ve interviewed Wilkens. You know, Topher?”

  “Oh, yeah. Him. Yup.” I nod and look everywhere but him. “I interviewed him back in Seattle and have run into him a few times. I’m staying at the same hotel as the coaches for Seattle.”

  “I think I still have his number, maybe we should invite him to join us for drinks?” Randy suggests.

  “I’m pretty sure he’s busy right now.” I tell him, knowing that he’s not done for another hour.

  Randy scrolls through his phone and I’m not sure what I should do.

  There are no nearby windows for me to grab his phone and throw out of. He would definitely think something is up if I did that. Instead, I sit stoically and hope to God that he doesn’t answer.

  “Hey man, long time no talk. It’s Randy. What are you up to?”

  I lean my head back in the booth and silently groan.

  “Yeah, I know. I play for LA now.” I can hear Topher on the other end say; ‘no shit’.

  “So, my sister and I are just chilling at a nearby bar. You want to join us for drinks?” He pauses, looks at me. “Yeah, she’s old enough to drink, man. We’re at Matthews on Green Street if you want to stroll by after your meeting.” Pause. “Ah, a date? Nice. Glad to see that you aren’t wallowing in misery after that chick dumped you for Collins.” Pause. “Anyway, we should grab at least a drink while we’re in the same town.” Pause. “Well, you’ve got my number.” He laughs. “Later man.”

  “How old does he think I am?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, knowing that he knows that Mila Rossi is of-age.

  “Probably just as old as you feel pouting like a little baby.” He laughs.

  Chapter 8

  TOPHER

  I’m standing outside Mila’s door for our first official date. Even after a day full of meetings, I’m feeling energized.

  I raise my fist to knock, I hear her footsteps as she approaches. When she opens the heavy door, all my nerves go away when I see her.

  Her hair is draped over her right shoulder with curls at the end. She’s wearing a lavender dress that stops just below her knees.

  She looks beautiful.

  “Hi,” she says lightly.

  “Hey,” I lean in and kiss her cheek. I notice the light blush to her cheeks as I pull back, “you ready?”

  “Let me get my shoes on.” She turns back into the room and sits at the edge of the bed to slide her heels on. When she stands, her hands adjust her skirt, and she struts forward, knowing that she’s got my attention. I step back into the hallway as she closes the door and then faces me.

  “So, where are you taking me?” She asks.

  “We’re going to a steakhouse in downtown Minneapolis. The front desk wouldn’t stop talking about it when I asked for a suggestion.”

  We took a cab to the restaurant and the hotel staff weren’t kidding. By the time we left, we were both a little tired and while the walk along the busy downtown streets was nice, both of us just wanted to relax and made it back to the hotel.

  “Should we change and then watch a movie?” She asks as we get in the elevator.

  “I would love that. I was hoping we didn’t have to end the night.” I reply.

  “Cool, so your room or mine?” She tilts her head.

  “Up to you?” I say putting the ball in her court.

  “What room number are you? I’ll go change and meet you there.”

  “You sure?” I ask.

  “Yeah, why not?”

  “I’m in room six-ten.”

  The elevator dings on the fourth floor, I prepare to exit and she places her hand on my forearm.

  “I’ll see you up there, you can walk me to my room later.” She winks and with a sway of her hips walks down the hallway to her room. Before she gets to her door, the elevator doors close and I press for my floor.

  Once in my room, I throw my loose clothes on the chair by the window into the closet and close it. I arrange my stuff on the bathroom counter into a neater appearance and then disrobe.

  What does one wear for a relaxed date with an attractive woman?

  It’s been a while since I’ve done this dating thing and I’m not on the up and up on what people do?

  I settle on a t-shirt and a pair of jersey shorts just as a soft knock comes from the front of the room.

  My heart is pounding as I walk up to the door. I think I’m more nervous now than I was earlier in the evening.

  Her hair is in a messy bun, the makeup she was wearing earlier is no longer on her face, and she’s dressed in a V-neck shirt and capri sweats. She’s breathtaking. She’s comfortable and not feeling the need to impress, only to be herself, and I’m even more enamored with her.

  “On our next date, we should order takeout and just hang out in front of the television.” She smiles at me as she walks further into my room and sits on the edge of my bed.

  “So that’s a ‘no’ to the nice dinners and romantic walks?” I ask with a smile sitting on the chair opposite her.

  “No, not entirely, it’s nice sometimes. But I’m more of flip-flop and beer kind of gal—it’s kind of how I grew up.”

  “Is that why you are a sports newscaster?” I ask.

  “Well, I grew up in a football house. I wanted to be a journalist. So, I majored in broadcasting, worked my way up and now here I am. Talking on camera about something that I’m passionate about. I don’t know too many people who could agree with me, in that they love their jobs.”

  “I love my job,” I tell her.

  “As you should,” she returns my smile, scooting up to the head of the bed. “Do you ever feel jealous though, of the players?”

  “Nah. I knew that one day my playing career would end and that I would likely do something with a team or even broadcasting after that. My time just ended sooner than expected, but it was always inevitable.”

  “How hard was it to switch gears?” She asks.

  “At first, I had a tough time. But I knew that I was still living the dream. I would work on plays and watch the players on the field run them. I felt accomplished.”

  “That’s outstanding.” She grins, patting the bed beside her. “Come on, I don’t bite. So, what are we watching?”

  I move from the chair and sit beside her at the head of the bed.

  I grab the remote and search the menu to get to the Pay-Per-View channels.

  We
settle in on a comedy with Will Ferrell, and she moves in closer to me. I wrap my arm around her and from head to toe, we’re connected.

  We watch the movie like this, then once we’ve watched it, she turns to me, grabs me by the back of my neck and brings my face to hers.

  My tongue lashes against hers mid-kiss as she opens her lips for a quick breath. She braces herself as she moves from beside me to sitting astride me. My hands fit to her hips with her breasts against my chest and as her fingers intertwine with the back of my short hair the kiss increases. She presses against my strained cock, lightly at first. Testing everything out, and then she deliberately moves against my erection. I’m letting her take the lead, but the pressure of my fingertips biting into the flesh of her hips is all I need to do to convey the intense feelings that I am having right now.

  She pulls back and with fire in her eyes, she bites her lower lip.

  “Is this okay?” she whispers.

  “What wouldn’t be okay with this?” I ask her huskily.

  “Good. And I hope you don’t mind me doing this.” She crosses her arms over her chest, reaches for the hem of her shirt and lifts it over her head. She’s wearing a light pink lace bra that barely covers her breasts and my mouth salivates. My eyes look to hers and she smiles. I lean into her with my hand lightly gripping the underside of her breast as my lips close around the flesh just above the lace. I look up to her again, as my fingertips play with the fabric as she sits up and moves behind her back, releasing her breasts.

  They’re perfect—dew drop satiny skin with rose-colored nipples—they’re absolutely perfect. I lean up and with my tongue trace the shape of her nipples before suckling one of her breasts into my mouth.

  Mila’s back arches and a low guttural moan comes from her mouth. My hands pull her body against me as her hips move against my cock.

  It’s been a while since I’ve made out with a girl. It’s been even longer since I’ve been dry humped, but there're no complaints coming from me.

  No complaints when she lifts off of me and reaches for the waistband of my shorts and reaches in with her fingers brushing against my shaft.

  No complaints from me when her fist palms me, and she strokes me.

  MILA

  I’m going for it. I will not leave this room without being fully satisfied.

  And everything that is happening right now leads down that path.

  Sure, it’s our official first date, and while some may think it’s slutty sleeping with someone on the first date, I’m looking at it as going after what I want.

  And I want Topher Wilkens.

  I wanted him when I was in middle school and he in high school. And I want him now, even more that we’re both adults.

  He groans as I stroke his cock. He’s released my breast and is leaning back against the headboard with his mouth open.

  “I want you.” I say. “Do you want me?”

  He whips his head forward with a lazy smile.

  “You ask with my erect cock in your hand.” He gasps as my palm glides up his length and strokes the crown.

  “I need you to say it,” I tell him.

  “Yes.” He hisses through his clenched teeth. “Yes, I definitely want you.”

  “I’m so glad that you said that.” I release his dick and lean further back on his thighs and pull his shorts with me. His dick springs out of the confines of his shorts and I move to sit back even further. With one hand on the side of his thigh and his dick begging for me, I wrap my lips around him and lower. My other hand grasps his shaft and I move it up and down, chasing my mouth.

  Topher pulls me off of him a minute later and leans over and grabs his wallet on the nightstand. He thumbs through it and pulls out a condom.

  “Please tell me that you haven’t had that in there for years?” I ask.

  “No, it’s relatively new,” he replies, pulling open the wrapper.

  He offers it to me and I roll it over his dick and pinch the tip. I lift onto my knees and position myself over him, then slowly lower myself with him filling me to the hilt as our hips press together.

  I rock back and forth as my body gets accustomed to his size, then I pull up slowly and press back down. My motions repeat over and over as I feel a flurry in my stomach. Pure pleasure races through my veins as I move against Topher. I pull and he pushes; I circle my hips, and he presses deeper into me. His fingertips grip my ass as we use one another to get off.

  My orgasm rips through my body unexpectedly as I grind my clit against him. My heart pounds, my breath catches in my throat and I’m just getting started.

  Chapter 9

  TOPHER

  It’s Thursday morning and I’m standing around nervously waiting for my last interview with Mila.

  I promised myself that I would remain professional, but as soon as she enters the room, thoughts from last night and this morning creep into my mind, and I’m instantly fighting a hard-on in a room full of people that work with her.

  She stayed in my room last night, and we barely slept. Hence, why makeup is covering circles underneath my eyes.

  Mila smiles as she sets her garment bag down. She walks over to my chair and asks for makeup to give us a moment.

  “Hey,” she breathes.

  “Hey,” I reply.

  “So, I know I probably don’t need to say this but—”

  “This interview will be professional, don’t worry.” I blurt.

  “No, well, I mean yes. Of course. I was going to say, that last night, and well this morning—okay, the past twelve or so hours—was incredible. But I rarely sleep with a guy on the first date.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m not complaining.” I say, holding my hands up.

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure you’re not.” She grins and winks, “but yeah, professional and shit.”

  “I really want to touch you,” I whisper.

  “You didn’t get your fill yet?”

  “Oh man, you do not understand. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.”

  “Is that a warning?”

  “That’s a promise.”

  The door to the suite slams and whoever walks in claps their hands. I look around Mila and see a giant of a man, dressed in a suit. Who the hell is that?

  “That’s my boss,” Mila whispers, answering my thoughts.

  “Ladies and Gents, we’re on a tight schedule for today. I want these interviews today to go smoothly, but quickly.” He looks around the room and see’s Mila and me. He walks in our direction, his footsteps echoing through the space.

  “Ms. Rossi, a word?” He asks sternly.

  She nods and follows him out of the suite. The makeup person comes back and begins double checking my complexion before the hair person comes and sprays some hairspray and styles my short hair.

  Moments later, Mila comes into the room with the behemoth of a man following behind her. Her complexion looks ashen, but she shakes it off as she walks further in the room. She grabs her garmet bag and escapes into the adjoining bathroom. When she emerges, I see a tinge of pinkness around her eyes, and I feel my blood boil.

  What the hell could he have said to make her upset?

  Her boss is still in the room, talking with the two cameramen are here. I make my way over to him and smile once he notices me.

  “Topher Wilkens, offensive line coach for Seattle. How are you doing, sir?”

  “I thought that was you. Nice to meet you, Coach Wilkens. Dale Lancaster, Sideline Sports. I trust that Ms. Rossi and my team here have been treating you and your team well?” his deep baritone voice asks as he shakes my hand.

  “She’s been a pleasure to work with. We’re honored to have your station covering the teams.” I say, milking his ego.

  “We were thrilled when the concept idea was imagined. It seemed like a perfect addition to add to our schedule with the big game. Hoping that once we piece everything together it will be quite the segment.” He explains.

  “I agree, Seattle h
as enjoyed working with Mila the past few weeks. She really knows her stuff.” I acknowledge.

  “That she does.” He turns as Mila steps up beside us.

  “My ears are ringing,” she grins.

  “Nothing bad, just Coach Wilkens here was complimenting the magnificent job that you’ve been doing.”

  She blushes and looks at me, then back to him. “Thank you. Both of you. For this opportunity, sir, and to you Coach Wilkens for your kind words.”

  “Five minutes!” the producer announces from behind Mr. Lancaster.

  Mr. Lancaster excuses himself to speak to the producer and I take the opportunity of having her alone.

  “Are you okay?” I ask with concern.

  “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” she holds her chin up and asks.

  “You walked back into the suite looking like you got reprimanded.” I say.

  “Oh no, I was—um—just shocked that he came here and he was complimenting me. He—um—doesn’t do that much.”

  She’s lying. But I can’t call her out on it. I know she is upset.

  MILA

  I didn’t think that Topher would notice my being upset, but I should have known that he would. Our eyes seem to find one another when we’re in the same space.

  Mr. Lancaster came to Minneapolis specifically because he was going to pull me from the rest of the interviews. The paparazzi capturing photos of Randy and I out to dinner the other night surfaced, and Mr. Lancaster thought my interviews would be tarnished by a relationship that was newly cast into the public.

  Once he scolded me for getting involved with players, my stomach dropped. I knew that my secret and my relation to Randy Harris would now have to become public. Which also means that Topher will find out.

  I told Mr. Lancaster the truth, and at first, he didn’t buy it. But once I pulled out my phone and showed him family photos that were in one of my gallery albums, he took a step away and a deep breath. I told him why I didn’t want anyone to know, which he understood. Then we returned to the room.