Page 2 of Game Day

The man who taught me to believe in myself no matter what.

I’ve loved him since the moment I laid eyes on his huge, stoic gorgeousness, and if he’s telling the truth, he fell pretty damn fast himself.

I miss the hell out of him. A few days without his growly presence, and I’m starting to feel like the grumpy one.

Brooke: If those Kodashians come at you, I'll come for them.

Nova: Don’t go down for murder on my account.

Brooke: Justifiable homicide. That’s what friends are for.

A shriek splits the arrivals lounge.

"They're here!!! For real!" The first woman bounces on her toes.

More tall men emerge from the arrivals doors, and I don't need to recognize their faces to know it's them.

The crowd surges toward the Kodiaks team, security overwhelmed trying to hold them off.

The "Marry Me, Clay!" sign was abandoned the moment the first woman caught sight of her dream guy.

Another woman is saying, “Oh my God,” over and over.

Still another is stripping off her shirt.

Oh boy.

I will not die in a pile of high-heeled boots and clutch bags.

Self-preservation kicks in. I grab Waffles and hug him to me as we're pushed toward the doors with the wave.

I catch glimpses over the crowd.

Atlas first. The tallest of the guys, with his buzzed head and Beats headphones.

Then Miles, his trademark cocky grin flashing as he says something over his shoulder to Jay, who’s laughing reluctantly.

Then I see him.

He's wearing a backward hat and gray hoodie, the black LV bag I picked out for him to match mine draped over one shoulder.My breath sticks in my chest. Not only because there’s barely enough room to breathe, but because his presence and intensity sucks the oxygen from the entire arrivals lounge.

The grumpy player I met and fell for on an airplane two years ago.

I had a panic attack on my way to my sister’s wedding, and he saved me.

I’d thought we’d never see each other again, but it turned out he was on my brother-in-law’s team.

We had to keep it a secret, but every second was thrilling. Sexy. Unbelievable.

Kind of like Clay himself.

He scans the crowd, searching for something.

Or someone.

"Clay!" I shout, but a hundred other fans are doing exactly the same.

I take a step backward, not for my own sake, but because Waffles has tiny bones and I'll never forgive myself if he gets hurt.

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