Page 30 of Gridlocked on the Gridiron

She couldn’t believe she was sitting on a bed with Colton Beaumont. Watching a movie. Sharing snacks. Not wanting to murder him. Sometimes even laughing with him.

A few months earlier, if someone had told her she would find herself in this situation with him, she would’ve thought they were on all kinds of drugs. Lucia Moretti and Colton Beaumont did not mix. And if they did, it was for an MMA fight to the death.

This new, fragile alliance was confusing. He was being nice to her. Gone was the douchebag with a stick up his ass. He’d been replaced with someone kind enough to kneel in front of her as she sobbed, wiping away her tears and offering to make a serious change to his life to save her the embarrassment of the press shitting on her. Someone who, despite harboring a very serious vendetta against her ex, had spent his free time being her only acquaintance in a city that hadn’t been the kindest to her. Maybe even a friend.

She actually liked this Colton. He was goofy and made her laugh, at least internally (she couldn’t show all her cards, after all). He showed her how good a boyfriend he could be to someone—someone who would one day enjoy his love and attention.

That was a weird thought. Once they broke up in January, he might find someone who he could love. He might show the new woman Charleston the way he had Lucia. He might stow her away on the plane and have her join him in his hotel room, watching a romcom with her two days before a big game. Lucia wasn’t sure why that bothered her, but it did a little. At least the part of her that could acknowledge how attracted to him she was and how much she enjoyed his company.

She turned to look at his profile, taking in the strong nose, chin, and hardly-there stubble. The angled cheekbones and dark hair. The full lips that were twitching into a smile.

“What?” he asked, his eyes still on the movie.

“Huh?”

“Are you ogling me again?”

“No.” Yes. “It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“Look at us. Being friendly.” She paused, remembering something that’d flitted through her mind during their first dinner date. “Do you finally believe that I’m not trying to screw you out of your season?”

He finally turned to her, eyes holding hers. “I stopped believing that the day you and Coop talked on the plane on the way back from our first regular season game.”

“Really? What changed your mind?”

“Coop just talked some sense into me. And, really, I should apologize for the way I acted when you first came to Charleston. I know the move must’ve been hard on you after everything, and I’m sure I didn’t make it any easier.”

“Mm. You know, saying that you should apologize isn’t the same as apologizing.”

“You want me to get on my knees and beg you to forgive me?” Her breath hitched, and he must’ve noticed it, his eyes falling to her parted lips. “Because I will. Just give me the word.”

She rolled her eyes to ease the tension between them, turning back to the movie. “No, that’s not necessary. But I will take a ‘sorry I made your life miserable and your job difficult during the worst weeks of your life.’”

“Lucia Moretti, I’m sorry I made your life miserable and your job difficult during the worst weeks of your life.”

She nodded once, a small smile on her face. “Better.”

She didn’t realize until the movie was over that he hadn’t touched the snacks she’d brought him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you asking me to bring you snacks was a ruse to trick me into coming to see you.”

He grinned as he stood. “Good thing you know better.” When she started to take the sweatshirt off, he pulled it back down, holding firmly onto the fabric. “I said you could keep it, and I meant it. I have a thousand of these. And I never wanna see you in a Vipers shirt again.”

“Noted.”

He grabbed a keycard from the coffee table as they walked to his door. She raised an eyebrow.

“Wasn’t the whole point of me bringing you food so that I could leave and fix the tape for you? Coach’ll be pissed.”

“I don’t give a damn. I care far more about making sure you get to your room safely.”

Were those…were those butterflies in her stomach? Fucking butterflies. She was going to have to have a serious talk with herself. And maybe Isa. Isa would talk sense into her. This was getting out of hand.

They stood on opposite sides of the elevator, Lucia looking everywhere but at him, though she could feel his eyes on her. When they finally reached her floor, she walked to her door quickly.

She felt him move behind her as she dug around in her little purse for her key card. His chest was nearly pressed to her back, his arm beside her head, resting against the door, caging her in. Gentle fingers found her waist, and Lucia dropped her purse, every muscle in her body coming to a standstill. She could feel his breath tickling her neck, and her eyes closed involuntarily.

There was something intimate about the closeness, his front nearly touching her back, his fingers just a whisper in the dip above her left hip. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but she couldn’t find it in herself to push away, or even to bend down to grab the purse and keycard.

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