Oakley froze and reached out to grab my knee. I wasn’t surprised that he’d already forgotten her name. “Cassandra Kitchen, wife of Hall of Fame recipient, Albert Kitchen!” I interjected on his behalf. “I think it’ll be a really fun experience for everyone.” Oakley squeezed my leg in appreciation and drifted his fingers teasingly toward my inner thigh. My breath hitched at the heated contact. What the actual fuck was he doing? I kept waiting for him to move his hand, but he didn’t.

“And what do you have planned with Cassandra?”

“We’re going to watch some old football footage,” Oakley replied, running his middle finger along the inseam of my jeans. I chewed on my bottom lip to stop from screaming at him. “I thought she might like that.”

Thought who might like what?

Brooke smiled with dreamy eyes that made me want to push away the table and show off Oakley’s hand. He was like, maybe three inches from nature’s Rubik’s Cube. Maybe closer. Maybe I had no idea why I was suddenly obsessed with his fucking large ass hands. Why was he touching me?

I reached under the table and shoved him away, making his body jerk. The asshole covered his laugh with a cough, then brought his full attention back to Brooke, the pen biter. She hadn’t even noticed; she was too busy tracing the lines of her collarbone and giving him a bedroom stare.

“Are you excited about the upcoming game this weekend?” she asked.

I turned to look at Oakley. His face turned serious, and he immediately threaded his hands together on the table top. It was the most intense I’d seen him since we’d met. “I think we have a solid team this year. We’re bringing our all to practice, and I’m really looking forward to seeing that hard work in a game scenario. I think we are stronger than ever and ready to bring a championship home.”

Brooke quickly jotted down notes. His answer was good. Encouraging. Everything that a publicist would want to hear. I was mentally high-fiving myself and playing out the scene where Coach was telling me how amazing I am and that he’s sorry he was ever rude to me.

My phone buzzed, and I looked down to see a message from Nick.

Nick: Here

Some people might be put off by Nick’s style, but I actually appreciated it. Short and to the point, no flowery chitchat to try and decipher. He walked through the door of the facility, and I immediately recognized him because of all the camera equipment he was carrying. I waved Nick over to the table and made all of the introductions.