Page 74 of The Check Down

When those dark depths are locked on me, they’re focused. Trusting.

Fuck.

I’m in deep.

I swallow and fill my lungs. Exhale. Push down my nerves like I do on game day.

“This is my life.” I pop a shoulder. “It’s crazy and big and loud. Much like this place on Sundays.”

The dawn of a smile graces her lips.

“But I’d like to share it with you, if you’re willing to put up with all this.”

She surveys the field again, then zeroes in on me.

“You know this game demands a lot,” I say, ignoring the way my heart rate picks up. “And dating a professional athlete comes with a heap of bullshit.” I pull her hands to my chest and hold them against my heart, hoping she can tell that it’s thrumming with optimism. Then I say the words I’ve been keeping like a secret for weeks: “Just be mine. We’ll figure out the rest as we go.”

Eyes glittering, she bobs her head and gives me a smile so brilliant it rivals the fucking sun. She launches herself at me and twines her arms around my neck, sealing the deal with a scorching kiss. As she rains sweet kisses down all over my beard and lips, a laugh breaks free from my chest.

“Can we order in tonight?” Her voice is breathless as I lower her to the turf.

“Whatever you want, professor.”

“I want this. I wantyou.” She gives me a thorough once-over, the look causing my dick to sit up and pay attention.

“Fuck. Let’s go.” I hoist her over my non-surgically-repaired shoulder, pulling a squeal from her, and cart her off the field.

By the time we’re home, the last of the sun’s rays are losing their hold in the sky. As we trudge upstairs, I do my best to ignore the zing of anticipation between us.

Once we’re inside and we’ve removed our coats, Brynn pulls up the food delivery app and waves her phone my way. “Let’s order Chinese.”

“Sounds good, baby.”

With her elbows on the bar in the kitchen, she taps on her phone. The position puts her delectable ass on display, making it impossible to fight the urge to grab a fistful of it and fold my body over hers. I brace my forearms on the counter, caging her between them, and press into her, my hardening cock resting against the swell of her ass, then pull her hair off her neck. Nuzzling into the fabric of her turtleneck, I give her a light bite in the space where her neck and shoulder meet.

“Griff.”

She arches her back, which only helps my dick become better acquainted with her ass. If only these damn clothes weren’t separating them.

I grind against her, placing love bites to her shoulder and neck through the fabric of her shirt, until one heavy jerk of my hips makes her gasp.

She pushes off the counter and twists in the space between my body and the bar. With her hands splayed on my abs, she pushes up for a kiss. “The food’s been picked up at the restaurant. I’m going to change really quick. Do you mind going down to get it?”

I nip at her bottom lip, then pull back. “Nope.”

“’Kay.” After one more kiss that leaves us panting, she pats my chest and ducks under my arms. Then she scurries up the stairs.

Head hung, I smooth a hand over my hair. “Fuck.” I’m so goddamn revved up I might not make it through Mongolian beef and fried rice.

With one deep breath after another, I pace the length of the apartment, giving myself a take-it-slow pep talk. I want nothing more than to make this night perfect for Brynn. Once I’ve reined in a modicum of control, I do a little prep work to set the mood. I turn on a Teskey Brothers record, volume set low and turn off all but the two lamps in the living room. Then I rummage in a kitchen drawer for the lighter to set flames to Brynn’s favorite candles. I’m finishing up my preparations in the bedroom when the doorbell chimes downstairs.

As I return, arms loaded, I peek inside the bag and count the containers. “Baby,” I say as I clear the top step and look up, “did you order extra egg—” My words stick in my throat at the sight before me.

Brynn Nelson, wearing nothing but my jersey.

Chapter sixteen

Griffin

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