by Skye Warren
“It’s okay,” I said with a sigh as she hugged me, engulfing me in a cloud of floral perfume.
This time last year, I didn’t catch Mommy kissing Santa Claus, I caught my boyfriend fucking Stacy Cortes, my old neighbor. Merry friggin’ Christmas, huh? That boyfriend was the aforementioned Ben, who was now firmly in the ‘ex’ category. I wanted nothing to do with him ever again, despite his pleas for us to get back together, and while I was proud of myself for stepping away from that situation, it still stung to know that I’d be spending Christmas day alone this year. My sister was out of state with her husband for the celebrations, and my parents had decided to get out of the snow and jet off to Bermuda for a sunny vacation.
“Ooh, the players are coming out,” Tiana said.
I craned my neck to get a better view of the field, and my stomach began to do nervous flip-flops as my eyes came to rest on one of Minnesota’s players. He was tall and oh-so muscular with scruffy light brown hair, and his face was mouth-wateringly handsome with its chiseled features and mesmerizing blue eyes. He was so hot that he could probably render the most devout of nuns senseless with their panties on the floor in a puddle, and I felt a pulsing warmth growing in my core as I stared.
My mouth was desert dry as his gaze came to rest on me a second later, wicked blue eyes dancing over my face and the curves of my upper body, and I gave him a shy smile and waved.
He grinned at me and waved back, immediately sending my heart into overdrive. Everything about this man screamed sex appeal and there were thousands of other women here, yet he was waving at me.
“See, I told you flashing your tits would get his attention,” said a feminine voice from behind me.
I turned to see two pretty young blonde women sitting there, braving the cold by unzipping their jackets and flashing their bare chests at the players down on the field as they trudged out and got into a huddle. My heart sank as I realized that was who the sexy guy had been smiling and waving at. Not me, but the girl directly behind me with her pebbled pink nipples on full display as she jiggled her boobs in her hands.
Oh well. I really should’ve known better.
But just because he wasn’t looking at me didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate that fine body of his, so I continued to stare.
“Something caught your eye?” Tiana asked, nudging me a second later. “Or someone?”
I flushed. “Uh, no, that guy seems familiar, that’s all. Number 17,” I said hurriedly, pointing to the blue-eyed Adonis. “Where have I seen him before?”
“That’s Dane Christensen,” she replied. “Someone at your news site has probably written about him. Apparently he’s a bit of a playboy, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh. I see,” I said, my shoulders slumping slightly. Of course he was. What gorgeous twenty-something pro footballer wasn’t a man-whore these days?
“I think this is his first game with Minnesota after getting traded here from an L.A. team. He was an awesome prospect when he first got drafted out of college so it was pretty shocking that he got traded so quickly,” she continued.
“Oh, that sucks. Has he ever done an interview about the trade?” I asked, my journalistic side sneakily worming its way to the surface, as it tended to do.
Tiana shook her head. “No. I heard people have been desperately trying to get interviews from him for weeks, but he hasn’t said yes to anyone yet. He even refused Jason Foster from the Sports Channel.”
“So it wouldn’t even be worth a shot to ask?”
“Probably not.”
“Damn.”
She turned to me with a sly smile. “Since when do you write about sports, anyway? I thought your column on the site was more about events in the city. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you had a little crush on Mr. Christensen.”
“I don’t,” I said defensively. “I just know my boss would love a scoop no one else has been able to get, and he mentioned that there might be some promotions soon. An interview like that could help me get in the running for one of them.”
Tiana’s grin grew wider. “Okay, fine. After the game, we’ll try to get you that interview. And maybe if you get lucky enough, you’ll get his number too.”
I laughed and jokingly elbowed her, and as I did so, I looked back down at the field to see Dane putting on his helmet. Even with his head covered, it was still obvious that he was the hottest guy on the field, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Before he joined the rest of the players as they walked farther out onto the field to get into the offensive lineup, he glanced back at the crowd, and this time, I swear to god he looked right at me, not the girl behind me. So maybe getting that interview from him wasn’t going to be as impossible as I thought.
I knew it probably wouldn’t end up happening in the end, but I guess a girl can dream, right? Or maybe I was really going to get a Christmas miracle this year…
Chapter 2
Dane
“Jesus, there are some hotties here tonight.”
My friend and teammate Jackson Gedei grinned as he filled me in on tonight’s crowd. He’d just gone out to speak to one of our coaches who was already out on the field while the team got ready in the locker rooms and psyched ourselves up.
“How long do we have?” I asked, ignoring his comment about all the supposedly hot women who’d come to watch the Christmas Eve game. This really wasn’t the time to care.
“Ten minutes or so. You’ll be all right, man,” he said, patting me on the back. “Seriously, though, these chicks…you’ve gotta see ‘em.”
Usually I’d be down to hear about all the sexy ladies who attended my games, but I didn’t have time to care about that kind of stuff right at this moment, not when my entire career could be at stake.
I’d been a machine back in college, leading my team to victory after victory. It seemed like a no-brainer that I’d be drafted to an NFL team when I graduated, and the offers had poured in as expected. I’d ended up signing a contract with the L.A. Brawlers in my home state, and I expected to be with the team for a long time. I’d pictured a steadfast career, clad in the blue and gold gear which I’d dreamed of since I was just a little kid, kicking around a pigskin in my backyard.
Instead I’d tanked. I’d thrown more interceptions than anyone else in the league in my first year, contributing to the team’s shittiest season in twenty years, and by the time my contract was up, it was clear where I was headed. No player ever really wants to be traded, but I knew it was coming.
I guess I’d grown cocky about my abilities over the years. Maybe I wasn’t as good as I thought I was, at least not when it came to the pro level stuff. Or maybe I’d just been nervous about finally making it to the big leagues, and that was the reason I fucked up so badly. That was no excuse for playing so terribly though, and when I was traded to the Minnesota North Stars and forced to move to freezing Minneapolis, I vowed to make the best of it. I wasn’t happy about leaving my sunny home state to trudge around in snow and ice, but I was going to play my heart out anyway and prove myself to my new teammates.
I was also going to ignore all the shit the media said about me. Nothing good could come out of having my words twisted by overly-ambitious sports reporters, so I’d been giving all of them a wide berth lately, and I didn’t intend on changing that anytime soon.
“C’mon, man, let’s head out,” Jackson said, nodding to the door. “And don’t worry, buddy, I’m pulling for you.”
I grinned and nodded back. Then I followed him out of the players’ entrance, taking in the crisp winter air and the dull roar of the home crowd as they waited for things to kick off.
This was my first proper game with the North Stars. I’d been moved down to second-string QB when I was initially traded, so I hadn’t yet been out on the field during a game, but I’d been bumped up after our starting QB got injured last week during a training session. If I played badly in tonight’s game, then it would only be a downward spiral from there, so I needed to get my shit together and
guide us to a serious victory.
I guess anything could happen at Christmas, though.
Jackson was right about our spectators tonight. Seeing as it was Christmas Eve, most families were at home getting ready for tomorrow and enjoying their fruit mince pies and eggnog as they waited for Santa’s arrival. That meant there were hardly any kids here right now; the crowd was mostly made up of hardcore adult fans. That included a lot of gorgeous women, and a few caught my eye as I glanced over the crowd.
One in particular stood out to me. She was sitting next to a redhead in a Santa hat, and even from this distance, her sparkling eyes caught my attention. She had thick dark hair and plump red lips that made my cock throb as they curled into a smile, and for a moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was the kind of rare beauty who clearly had no idea about the effect she had on men, but I was willing to bet she could command the attention of an entire room if she simply walked in and stood still in the center.
She saw me looking and gave me a shy wave, and I grinned and waved back. As I did so, I noticed two women directly behind her, undoing their coats and lifting their sweaters. Their lips were painted a garish cotton-candy pink, and their platinum hair flipped around in the cold wind as they grinned and waved, flashing me their obviously-fake tits.
My dark-haired beauty’s smile faded. Damn. She probably thought I’d been staring at the blondes, not her.
“All right, come on!”
After we broke our pre-game huddle, our team’s head coach shouted for us to take to the field for the start of the game, and we trudged out to take our positions in the lineup. I turned my head and caught one more glimpse of the brunette beauty before turning my attention to the game, and my heart began to race. This was it. My chance to prove myself.
My eyes shifted to the right, then the left, and I called out a series of plays. The crowd cheered as the ball was snapped, and I searched for an open receiver, dancing around the turf to keep myself out of the defense’s way. My teammate Cameron was open, and I let go of the ball, watching with bated breath as it sailed through the air. He caught the ball easily as it sailed into his open arms, and he turned and ran, ducking and weaving to dodge the defense as they tried to catch up.
The crowd went wild as we scored our first easy touchdown only seconds later, and my spirits lifted immeasurably. So far, so good.
The rest of the game went just as well. By the time we reached the last few minutes of the fourth quarter, we were ahead by six points, and the home crowd was whooping and cheering its appreciation. I didn’t get too comfortable yet, though. I knew things could turn around in any number of ways, and I wasn’t going to make the same cocky mistakes I had back in California.
The opposing team managed to score a touchdown two minutes later, and with only a minute left on the clock, our offense lined up again. When I had the ball a few seconds later, I searched for an open receiver again, and when I saw Jackson open to my left, I threw it. The entire stadium watched as it sailed thirty yards and into his arms, and I grinned as he took it over the line just as the clock ticked down to zero.
Fuck, yeah!
The crowd erupted. The sound of their approval almost vibrated in the chilly air, their excitement proclaimed as loudly as possible as they screamed and cheered. I jogged down to the end zone, grinning as I yanked off my helmet and pulled Jackson into a hug, lifting him into the air.
“Fuckin’ told you so, man!” he said. “I knew you’d make a good comeback.”
“Hey, you’re the one who scored that touchdown,” I replied with a grin.
“Yeah, yeah. Christmas miracle, huh?”
I chuckled. “You coming to the after-game party?” I asked.
“Definitely.”
Our fans launched confetti and streamers all over the field just as a light snow began to fall, and I closed my eyes and savored the tiny little flakes as they fell on my face, cooling me off.
“Quick, the vultures are descending,” Jackson said, nodding toward the sidelines a moment later. “You better get out of here unless you’ve changed your mind about avoiding interviews.”
I followed his gaze to see a number of sports reporters clamoring to get on the field, and before I could get off it, I found myself surrounded by seven or eight of them as even more rushed toward me.
“Can you talk to us for just a second, Dane?” one said.
“Your throwing arm has really improved since you were with the Brawlers, can we discuss that?” another shouted almost right in my ear, as if I were completely deaf.
I was about to put my hand up and walk away when I saw who was standing amongst the reporters. It was my elegant dark-haired beauty from earlier. She was giving me a very obvious once-over, and her eyes traveled from my crotch up to my face, obviously not realizing that I’d caught her checking me out.
When her gaze met mine, I grinned and arched an eyebrow, and her eyes darted away in embarrassment. I noticed her redheaded friend standing behind her, and she pushed her toward me. “Are you doing any interviews?” the redhead asked. “My friend works for the Minnesota Daily Star. She’d love to talk to you.”
“Daily Star, hey?” I said, giving the brunette a cheeky wink. I’d heard of that site. It wasn’t one of the biggest media sites in the city—it bordered more on entertainment news rather than serious news—but if there was any chance for me to get to know this woman better, then I wasn’t going to turn it down. “I think I could be convinced to let you interview me.”
“Shit, really?” the gorgeous brunette blurted out before blushing and catching herself. “I mean, that’d be…er…that’d be really good.”
The other reporters around us didn’t look too happy to see me offering a possible interview to someone from an entertainment site, but I ignored them. “What’s your name?” I asked.
“Lara,” she replied, her blush deepening. She was fidgeting, no longer looking right at me, and heat rushed to my groin as I stared. I loved how flustered she was. It was fucking adorable.
“Well, Lara, how about this? I’ll give you an exclusive interview in return for one thing.”
“What?”
“I want you to come to a Christmas Eve party with me later tonight,” I said. “Our team’s having one here at the stadium as a sort of after-game celebration crossed with a holiday party. So we can talk there. What do you say to that?”
“She says yes, obviously,” the redhead said, nudging Lara, whose face now rivaled a fire engine in terms of redness.
I smiled. “I’d like to hear it from her,” I said. “So, Lara…yes or no?”
Chapter 3
Lara
Dane looked at me expectantly, lips curled into a smile, and I stared back, unable to speak for a moment. Up close, he was even hotter than I’d originally assessed from my seat above the sidelines. His dazzling blue eyes made me want to melt despite the freezing temperature, and the longer he stared at me, the more my knees weakened.
“Yes,” I finally managed to choke out as the other journalists grumbled around me. “That would be amazing.”
I heard Tiana breathe a sigh of relief from behind me. “About damn time,” she muttered. “So when’s this party? Right now?”
“Soon,” Dane replied, his eyes not leaving my face for a second. If my cheeks heated any more, I was probably going to spontaneously combust, so I dropped my gaze to the turf, trying to ignore how damn sexy he was. “We all need to go and shower first. Wouldn’t want a party full of sweaty football players, would we?”
“Oh, I would,” Tiana said with a snicker.
I couldn’t help but giggle at her brazen attitude, and it gave me the confidence I needed to look back up at Dane. “Okay, just give me the details, like where it is and where we should meet, and I’ll see you then. I’ll have to dash home and get changed first,” I said, gesturing down to my old jacket and faded jeans. “I’m not really dressed for a party.”
“I think you look great already,” Dane replied. �
��But anyway, here’s the details.”
He told me where to meet him in an hour, and I nodded as I took down the information on my cell phone. “I guess I’ll see you soon,” I said, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thank you so much, Mr. Christensen.”
“No worries. And call me Dane,” he replied with a wink before saying goodbye and heading off the field, trailed by an angry mob of spurned reporters.
“Oh my god,” I said breathlessly, turning to Tiana a second later. “Did that really just happen? Did I really just get an exclusive with him?”
She nodded. “Yep. You look like you’re about to have a heart attack.”
“I think I need a drink. Or ten.”
She waggled her index finger at me. “No, you need to stay sober until you’ve done your interview with him. You wouldn’t want to get wasted and forget to ask him important questions, would you?”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“You can always have a drink with Dane after the interview, anyway. Get some Dutch courage in you so you can invite him home.”
I smiled. “Oh, shh. He won’t want to come home with me. I bet he only picked me for the interview because I work for the Daily Star, so he knows I won’t ride him as hard as a proper sports reporter.”
“No, I think he picked you because he wants you to ride him hard.”
“You’re incorrigible,” I said, laughing.
She grinned and put her arm in mine, leading me off the field. “C’mon, let’s get you into a little black dress and high heels. He won’t know what hit him.”
“You look perfect,” Tiana said, appraising me as I stepped out of the bathroom forty minutes later.
“You don’t think this dress is too much?” I replied, anxiously patting the dark fabric down. “I want him to take me seriously so I can get some good quotes for the interview. I’m not sure this amount of cleavage says ‘serious reporter’.”