Page 22 of Virgin Pass

Chapter Eleven

Lori

Three weeksafter I restarted my career as Austin’s agent, I’m about to come out of my skin with excitement. Today is about more than the last pre-season game of the year…it’s about Austin. Brad King tweaked his hamstring in the last game—a minor injury, thank god—but that means Austin will get his chance to play like the future Hall of Famer he is.

Since Austin’s owning his awesome on the field, it’s my job to own mine in the club box.

I catch myself turning heads as I breeze past the coaches’ wives, all of them with their hair piled back in conservative pony tails and their casual-not casual clothes draping their bodies with the perfect amount of conservatism and classiness that Coach Connor prides himself on.

But I’m not Coach Connor’s daughter today. I’m the sports agent girlfriend to a hard-bodied gladiator who’s giving it all on the field in just a few short minutes.

And I’m dressed like an angel, his angel.

“Lori,” Austin’s startled voice reaches me down the corridor and I pivot. I’d hoped to see him, but of course I wasn’t sure he’d have time before he ran out on the field. The moment our eyes meet I know it was the right thing to do to seek him out. His gaze rakes over my dress, tight, low-cut, and accentuated by killer heels, all of it as white as an angel’s wings. My hair is down around my shoulders the way I know he likes it, and I’m even wearing the little angel wing necklace he gave me last night, when the coaching staff confirmed he’d be playing today. My heart is overflowing with joy as a broad smile spreads across his face, and he holds out his arms, ignoring the urging of the offensive coordinator for him to get out on the field.

I don’t hesitate.

In five short strides I’m down the corridor and hopping up for Austin to catch me in his arms, the bulkiness of his pads making it seem like he’s a third bigger than I know him to be, but I don’t care. His mouth covers mine in a soul searing kiss that melts away everything around us. He’s smart enough not to grab my ass and haul me up against him, not with all the coaches and cameras watching, but I can feel his hand trembling with the effort not to grind his erection against me, even through the thick groin padding of his uniform.

“Oh, for god’s sake. Striker!”

Dad’s voice is probably the only thing that could rip us apart, and this time, I don’t even mind. Striker sets me down to the floor like I’m spun glass, then dusts the top of my head with his lips. “Pray hard for me, lucky angel,” he says. “I’m counting on you.”

“You’ll do great.” I can barely get the words out, my voice is all choked up in my throat, and I watch him with my hands clenched to my heart as he turns and jogs out to where the rest of the team is assembling to take the field. It takes me a second to realize that my dad is still standing there, glaring at me.

I turn to him, still so caught up in my joy that I don’t even mind his gruff disapproval. “Good luck, Daddy!” I cry, sounding so much like the little girl I once was that his bushy eyebrows shoot high, his face a mask of surprise as I fling my arms around him and hug him tight. “I love you, but you gotta win!” I continue, completing the mantra I used to recite to him before every game, all the way up until I hit puberty and he suddenly started treating me like I was some sort of alien he didn’t know what to do with.

“I—stop it,” he finally says, but his words are all wobbly, and as I stand away from him, his eyes are a little shinier too. I straighten my dress and step quickly away, not wanting to ruin the moment. He doesn’t stop me as I rush up to the club box, where the wives and girlfriends of the players get to sit. For this game, I’m Austin’s girlfriend first, his agent second. Heck, for the rest of my days, I’ll be thrilled to be Austin’s girlfriend first, his agent second. He’s made me the happiest woman on the planet.

The game starts, and I know the cameras are on me more than anyone else, because I catch glimpses of myself on the JumboTron, my hands clasped to my mouth, my eyes wide and worried when Austin is sacked. They also catch my jubilant touchdown celebration when Austin tosses his first perfect pass to Bro Silverton. I calm down after that, but I don’t really mind that my heart is on my sleeve. It’s for Austin, and I’m his lucky angel.

The game winds down to the fourth quarter, but for once with the Warriors, the ending isn’t in contention. It’s a pre-season game, and I know it doesn’t mean anything to the thousands of fans in the stands, the thousands more watching…but to Austin, it’s as if he’s back on the field his very first year as a college player. He’s laughing, he’s happy, and he’s throwing Lucky Strikes.

Life just couldn’t possibly get any better than this.

“Well, are you going to go down there?”

I turn and see the wife of the Warriors’ star wide receiver grinning at me. She’s easily in her third trimester, judging from the size of her belly, and I find myself staring at her rounded tummy with unexpected longing. Then I focus on her words. “What?”

“You should go down there and be with your man!” she says, laughing. “I promised mine I wouldn’t storm the field anymore now that I’m so close to popping, but you should go. Be there with him! These are the kind of moments that make all the rest worth it.”

She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I’m out of the club box and down the stairs so quickly, I might as well be an angel flying back to earth. And then I’m out onto the field, where interviews are being held on the sidelines, and I easily spot Austin. He looms over a third string TV reporter I don’t recognize—it is the pre-season after all—but when he looks up and sees me, Austin’s entire face lights up.

Then he’s…summoning me over to him? And why is he up on the JumboTron?

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