Page 45 of Teasing the Winger

“Yup. Tricia told me she’d swing by and grab the Kerrington costume in the morning, so I don’t even have to transport it anywhere,” he tells me with a goofy grin while mentioning one of the other mascot members.

“Perfect, that means I can actually rest after the game,” I joke.

Sasha gives me a playful shove while scoffing. “You don’t ever have to carry my costume after the games.”

“I know,” I say, wrapping my arm around his shoulder while we make our way to the parking lot. “But I also like doing that kind of stuff for you,” I remind him.

He smiles at me so brightly it makes my heart beat a little faster. Sasha is perfect for me, and sometimes I want to kick myself for not seeing it sooner. For not allowing him to get closer sooner. Maybe if I hadn’t written him off as an annoying flirt and saw who he really was in our first year of knowing each other, I might have noticed my other feelings for him sooner. But playing the game of ‘what ifs’ is pointless because we can’t change the past. The only thing I can do is cherish my time with him now and continue to build a future with him.

“Do your teammates know how much of a softie you are?” he asks me.

I narrow my eyes at him, but the grin that has almost become a permanent part of my face remains. “If you tell anyone about my sweet side, I’ll have to kill you.”

Sasha throws his head back, laughing, and it fills me with a warmth I’ve never experienced before. I can’t put my finger on what the feeling means. Is it love? No. It can’t possibly be. It’s far too soon, isn’t it? I mean, I’ve never been in love before, so I don’t know exactly what that feels like. At this point in time, I don’t think it matters what exactly this feeling means. I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually. Until then, I’ll just revel in how good it feels.

“Rio!” someone shouts as we enter the parking lot.

Some of my teammates are standing around a woman with bright red curly hair who’s holding her phone out and looks like she’s interviewing them. Behind her is a guy with a camera who might also be recording what’s going on or taking pictures, which isn’t unusual since there are quite a few college blogs and such. BooBoo is amongst the guys and waves me over, so I guide Sasha in their direction.

“What’s up?” I question them once we’re close enough that I don’t have to shout.

“Lyla here is interviewing us about our games so far this season,” BooBoo tells me.

“I’m currently live on our GSU sports page,” she tells me, pointing her phone in my direction. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

I shrug while keeping my arm around Sasha’s shoulder. His eyes meet mine, and he subtly tilts his head to the side, silently asking if he should step out of the frame, but I don’t let him go. I’m not ashamed of him, and I don’t care if the whole world knows we’re dating. But I do pay attention to his body language to make sure he’s okay with being here because I don’t want to pressure him into staying. When he melts into my side and beams at me, I know we’re on the same page.

Lyla begins asking questions about the team and brings up stats about me that I’m impressed she’s memorized. I answer the questions easily, loving to have the chance to talk about the sport I love so much.

We’re on our third or fourth question when a bunch of whistling, cheering, and catcalling happens, and I turn around to find a few of my teammates mooning the camera. BooBoo is in the middle shaking his ass like he’s at a club which has both me and Sasha doubling over in laughter.

“Fuck,” Lyla cusses, and I turn back around to find a very angry redhead.

Does this woman not have a sense of humor at all? I mean, yeah it disturbed the interview, but it is funny.

“Are you okay?” I ask her, and she damn near growls.

Sasha and I take a step back at the exact same time and share a look that says, “what the fuck is going on?”

“Your teammates just got our lives banned. Not only was this broadcast shutdown, but we probably won’t be able to go live again for who knows how long.”

Shit. I didn’t think about that. I guess I see why she’s angry now.

“Sorry,” I apologize on behalf of my teammates, but that doesn’t seem to appease her.

She huffs out a breath and rolls her eyes. “Whatever.” With those parting words, she turns on her heels and stomps away.

“Don’t worry about her,” the guy who was also recording says. “She might be pissed that we can’t go live for a while, but her attitude will change when we go viral, thanks to your friends there.” He waves at us before following his friend, coworker, or whatever they are to each other.

“You guys pissed off Lyla,” I shout out at the guys who shrug.

“She just needs a sense of humor,” BooBoo shouts back.

“Ready for me to take you home?” I check with Sasha who’s still snickering.

“I guess so,” he says once he’s composed himself. “I wish I didn’t have classes first thing in the morning so we could spend more time together tonight.”

“A couple of evenings apart isn’t going to kill us,” I remind him as we make our way to my car, but a pang of disappointment flutters in my chest. I’d like to spend as much time together with Sasha as possible. “It’s not like we’re going weeks without seeing each other.”

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