Page 80 of Fumble

Chapter Twenty-Two

FAITH

It’s finally arrived.The reason my world collided with Hunter Vaughn. The reason my whole world changed. Today is the day we leave for Ohio and the Hall of Famecelebrations!

I can’t believe how far we’ve come from that first night in the hotel lobby bar. I’m still a bumbling idiot, but I rock that shit. Last night was the last piece of the puzzle for me. I took my story into my own hands and stood up for my truth. It was empowering. I know that I’m lucky. So many women are treated far worse than me, and no one takes them seriously. I’m just hoping that if there’s one person out there dealing with something similar, they can read my interview and maybe feel less alone in the darkness.

That interview definitely earned me some special attention from Hunter when we got back to his place last night. That man has a wicked, dirty, heavenly tongue. Now, I’m slightly regretting staying up into the early hours of this morning. Who am I kidding, plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead.

“I don’t suit gold. The title is great, but the jacket is ugly as fuck. Am I allowed to say that?” Hunter shouts from the closet. I wander in, excited to see him in dress slacks and very little else.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and tell you not to repeat that sentence today.” I love the sound of his laugh.

“Can I whisper it to you?”

“What if we have a code word? So, every time you look down at the jacket, and you’re ruing the color decision made back in 1963, you can say it, and I’ll know what you’re thinking?”

“This is why I love you! What will our word be?”

“What about… fumble?”

“Perfect! But what if one of your adoring fans calls you Lady Fumble?”

“Doesn’t matter what anyone else says. It only counts when you say the word.”

“Got it.” Snaking my hands around his naked torso, I kiss a line down his spine.

“You know you suit every color. This is my favorite, though. A perfect shade of naked.”

“Well, we could just skip this whole shindig and go straight to dessert.” Scooping me up into his arms with a panty-melting kiss, I’m almost tempted.

“You’re not missing today. You’ve missed way too much of the build-up because of me.”

“I don’t care. I’ve got you. So, we had some hospital time and a few weeks forced vacation, we still got here in the end.”

“True, and that’s exactly why we’re going. You have busted your ass your entire career, and this summer has been tough on everyone involved. Today is a day to celebrate. Plus, how many people get a bust of themselves? Have you seen it yet?”

“I know what my face looks like.” Relaxing against his chest, I inhale the sultry scent of his cologne.

“And the ring. It’s pretty flashy.” His body tenses beneath me.

“What?” The furrow of his brow has me a little unsettled.

“Not a jewelry guy? You don’t need to wear it. Maybe just tonight, for me. I wouldn’t mind fucking a Hall of Fame god, naked except for the ring.” A wry smile tugs at the corners of his lips, flashing me that killer grin.

“Now, that can be arranged.” I wriggle my way out of his arms, steadying my feet on the floor before I let go. Pulling his right hand up to my lips, I press a gentle kiss to each surgical scar. I hate that this happened because of me, but whenever I look at them from this moment forward, I’m going to remember the emotion blooming in my chest—love. Hunter loves fiercely, and with that comes a protective, primal nature. I get it, I love it, and I feel the same way about him. Just the thought of someone wanting to harm Hunter makes me angry.

I want today to be all positive memories for Hunter. He’s upset that my father won’t be there to celebrate with him, but he won’t admit it. I know he’s worried about how I’m dealing with the lack of communication with my family, but I can say, hand on heart, that today my only concern is for Hunter. No matter what has transpired over the past few months, they have decades of experiences and friendship that shaped both of their careers. Make no mistake, Hunter’s achievements helped my dad become the legendary coach he is today. It wasn’t a one-way street. I can’t help but think that my dad is going to look back on this in years to come and regret his decision not to attend this major moment.

When the doorbell rings, I leave Hunter to finish getting ready. Coop is here and looking sharp.

“Where’s Zoey?”

“I know she’s your best friend, but can we not talk about her today.” Fuck. She hasn’t text or called, which means whatever has gone down between them is really bad. I want to probe him for details, but the pleading exhaustion in his eyes tells me to leave it be, for now.

“Come in. Can I get you a drink?”

“Scotch neat.”

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