Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
My heart was pounding under his hand.
“What are you afraid of, Delilah?”
He stared into my eyes, so open and vulnerable, and like a coward, I closed mine. Neither of us moved for a long time.
The door to the locker room creaked open. “Easton. Interviews are starting, and the shift is changing. Time’s up,” Henry yelled, and then the door closed again.
I opened my eyes. My words were barely audible. “I’m sorry.”
He pushed my hair back, and his thumb stroked my cheek. His smile was real, but sad. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You’ll figure it out.”
He let go of me and took a few steps toward the door before turning around. The cocky smile I hated to love was back now. “Oh, and Delilah? Now it’s your turn. You’ll come around. But when you do, I think I’ll make you beg for another chance.”
I felt like a twelve-year-old boy again. In two days, I would play in the motherfucking Super Bowl, there would be an arena half full of women wearing my name on their backs, and here I was jerking myself off in the shower. To say I was frustrated was an understatement.
When I’d told Delilah last week that the ball was in her court, I hadn’t been thinking of how often I would see her. Super Bowl week was a media frenzy, and I saw her beautiful face every day. After our locker room understanding, something changed—the anger and hard feelings between us were gone. We were friendly even. Which made it exceedingly harder to keep my hands to myself.
Last night, she’d been at the practice field for a coach’s interview. I’d waited around like a damn puppy just to walk her to her car after she was done. When we got to her Volkswagen, she stood with her back against the door, and I knew if I had leaned in and claimed her mouth, she wouldn’t have objected. I was more certain than ever that she wanted me; what I needed now was for her to be certain it was what she wanted. She needed to push past whatever was holding her back and make the decision to be with me. So I’d intentionally brought up Marlene and how Grouper had cleaned out the last of her things before I brought him and the guppies to Media Day. I casually mentioned that I’d mailed Marlene’s cross to Willow, who now lived upstate. She had said that she believed nothing happened between Willow and me, but I needed her to know that Willow wouldn’t be part of our lives going forward.
That night at the hotel, after Marlene’s service, Willow and I had a long talk. She admitted she had come to my suite hoping for us to get back together. As much as I hated that I hurt Delilah, the conversation between the two of us needed to happen. I needed to say goodbye to her once and for all, and she needed to hear me tell her to move on. It was a long time coming for both of us. While I wished her luck, there was no connection holding us together anymore. And I was good with that. Whatever crack of the door that I had left open for Willow, it was finally shut once and for all.
I had offered to pick Delilah up to drive her to the stadium today for the final press conference since we were both attending, and I was shocked as shit when she agreed. She’d told me to text her when I arrived so I wouldn’t have to park, but a car ride to the stadium wasn’t enough time with her. So I showed up an hour before our planned departure time and rang the buzzer, pretending that she had gotten the times mixed up.
“I’m sorry. I thought you said eleven.”
I did. “Nope. Ten.”
When she opened the door, it was obvious she had just gotten out of the shower. Her hair was wet, and she was dressed in a pair of logoed Steel sweats and a pink ribbed tank top—sans bra.
“Nice sweats.” Nice tits. The damn things were saluting me.
She stepped aside for me to enter. “I’m not ready. But I’m fast. I can get done quick.”
I quirked an eyebrow. Good thing I took care of myself not an hour ago.
Delilah chuckled. “Such a perv.” She waved toward the living room. “Make yourself comfortable.”
I watched the sway of her hips until she was out of sight, and then made myself at home. The entire place smelled like her perfume. I sat down on the couch with the remote and flicked on the TV. Every station was talking about the upcoming game. Athletes were superstitious—I didn’t like to know the odds before a game, so I hit the off button and looked around. The end table held a photo album that I’d never seen before. Not thinking twice, I grabbed it and started to flip through.