“Remington . . .” My name on her lips makes me hot enough to blow.
“Honey, I’m home!” A slamming door and Pete’s sarcastic voice stuns us. “Just wanted to make sure you guys got here okay. Scorpion sure seems to have a hard-on to get your ass back in jail.”
The lights flare on, and the knowledge of what I’m doing slams into me like a sledgehammer. I drop her finger and stalk to the window, breathing hard as I struggle for control. What the hell am I doing? She has no idea about me.
“I’d better go,” she says.
Pete watches her leave, then he looks at me as I stand here, feeling tortured like it’s my last day. “I’ll just wait for you here, Rem,” Pete says calmly.
Burning inside my skin, I clamp my jaw in frustration, curl my fingers into my palms, and follow her to her room, so wound up I’m ready to burst through my jeans.
I want her so much I’m not even thinking of anything except the way she looks, the way she smells, the way she just f**king stuck her finger into my mouth.
As she slides the key into the slot, I let myself fantasize that this is our room. Or at least that it’s just hers. And she’d open up the door, and I’d follow her inside. I’d kiss her slowly. Set her down on the bed. I’d kiss her all over.
But it’s not just her room. I’ve been booking her with Diane, so I’d stay away. But maybe I don’t feel like staying the f**k away anymore!
She waits a moment and then finally turns.
“Good night,” she whispers, and looks up at me.
Before I can pull myself back, I grab her face and kiss her lips. “You look beautiful.” My thumb runs with desperation along her jaw. I tilt her chin and kiss her—softly, drily, quickly before I lose it. “So damn beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off you all evening.”
PRESENT
SEATTLE
Will You Marry Me” comes up on Pandora through the car’s speakers. Pete and Riley start to hoot like a couple of dipshits.
“Coincidence or what? Or what, man?” Pete punches my arm and I punch back with the same force. “Ouch!”
Okay, maybe a little more force than he used. “Don’t be a f**king pu**y.” I laugh.
We pull into the church’s parking lot, where we spot the team’s rented Escalade parked already in a spot.
“So what’s this about Melanie having some f**king boyfriend,” Riley says as he jumps off, lifting a box of chocolates from the back of the car and showing them to us. “The name of these is even fancier than Godiva.”
“She told us the boyfriend’s name’s Greyson, remember? And this doesn’t belong to you.” Pete grabs the box of chocolates and puts them in the back of the car, then waits behind the wheel as the top closes.
“Sounds like some ass**le. Nobody gives anybody chocolates these days—especially not someone you’re dating. Melanie’s ass is fine without those, I’ll tell you that.”
I punch Riley’s arm so he goes quiet when we walk into the church. People are finishing the touches on the floral arrangements. White. White for my bride.
Brooke.
“Still, I’ll bet he’s some sort of posh—”
I punch Riley lightly again. “Do you love her?” I demand.
“Hell no.” He looks affronted.
“Then stop complaining and let her be happy with this dude.”
“Amen,” Pete says.
I pull out my phone to check the time as Riley and Pete continue discussing the love life of Brooke’s best friend.
“There’s my boy!” Coach slaps my back. “You ready?”
“I was born ready.”
He laughs. “Season starts in two weeks, and we’re going to be ready.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Right now, I’m just ready to get f**king married to my wife.
PAST
TO MIAMI
We’re in the back of the plane the next day, our iPods in hand, my eyes devouring her and her eyes brazenly devouring me back.
“Put a song on for me,” I tell her.
Last night was a revelation. Maybe she’s more ready for me than I’d previously thought. Fuck, I can’t even think that without my hormones shooting crazy in me. As she ducks her head to choose my song, I want to brush her hair back and take her mouth, to tell her with that kiss she will be mine.
I’m playing her Survivor’s “High on You” and I’m fiercely impatient to find out what she plays me now. Another girl song? One that teases me with hints that she’s all right without a man?
The only woman I want.
I’m bursting the zipper of my jeans. I’ve had groupies in my rooms, naked, sliding their hands up my abs and my chest. Nothing hits me like seeing Brooke in my room, in her bouncy ponytail, looking excited and . . . happy.
She’s happy because she’s with you.
My heart kicks. I curl my hands into my palms and watch her peer nervously out the window, her teeth digging into her lower lip.
I have a fight tonight.