He didn’t ease. We were spiraling. Climbing. The smell of sex mixed in the air with the fragrant flowers. “So fucking close,” I croaked. My voice was a broken mess of bliss.

Oakley shuddered, and soon both of us were exploding on the table. I cried out, not caring how loud I was. Oakley was nothing but a mess of moans and curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said while grabbing my hips. He dug his fingers into my skin, and I rode out my bliss along with him.

“Fuck, Oakley,” I said once the last bit of pleasure had passed. “That was…” I couldn’t even articulate what that was.

He pressed his forehead to mine. “You’re mine, Amanda Matthews,” Oakley said.

“Ditto, Problem.”

25

The California sunshine beat down on my shoulders as we waited for the charter bus that would take us to our hotel. The three hour flight was okay. The entire team sat together, so it smelled like I was breathing in filtered farts the entire time. Oakley held my hand, and I ended up falling asleep on his shoulder, earning us various curious stares and winks from Dale and his other teammates. We might not have been officially dating by conventional standards, but it was pretty well-known where we stood.

“Are you ready for your meetings?” Coach asked. He’d been standing nearby, eyeing Oakley’s hand laced with mind with scrutiny.

“I prepped him on possible questions. I also arranged for some journalists to be there to catch them going into a meeting to get some buzz,” I answered, looking up at the approaching charter bus. Our hotel was close to the stadium, and I was freaking out about possibly running into someone I knew.

“I’m ready,” Oakley added.

We got on the bus, and the moment I sat down, I started checking Oakley’s social media and articles featuring commentary about the upcoming game. Nearly everyone was mentioning how Oakley seemed to be taking this season seriously.

“I’ve emailed all of you the schedules for the weekend. I want each of you to go to your hotel rooms and lock yourselves inside for the duration of the evening. No partying. No canoodling. Nothing. I’ll have eyes all over the hotel. You can leave your room to eat. That’s it. Be smart, or I’ll make you run until you puke. This is a big game. Lots of important people are watching,” Coach Howard said while staring at me. “I’m putting Miss Matthews on watchdog duty. Since she’s done such a good job keeping Oakley in line, I’m promoting her to babysitter of all your sorry asses for the night. Her room is at the end of the hall, and I have it on good authority that she’ll kick you in the balls if you break the rules.”

What? That was news to me. The entire bus started whistling.