Page 30 of Rookie Move

“I promise. Now kiss me like you mean it, and then I have to go home.” He tucked her body under his and kissed the hell out of her.

Ten minutes later, she had cleaned up and was heading toward the elevator. He wanted her to stay, but he understood.

It still sucked climbing back into his empty bed, her scent on his sheets, but she’d promised she’d come over for dinner tomorrow night. He’d wear her down eventually. And he’d deal with Bugsy when the time came.

Chapter 8

It’d been twoweeks of dinners on non-game nights and sleepovers at his place whenever possible. She would sneak out early so none of his teammates would see her and so her dad wouldn’t wonder why she was stumbling across the backyard at seven in the morning while he was finishing his first cup of coffee.

The secrecy was not ideal, but she loved their little bubble. They were getting to know each other, and she was halfway in love with him already. And it wasn’t just the amazing sex. They’d spent hours talking about their families and how different their childhoods were. He’d grown up surrounded by family in Canada and Scotland and she’d had her mother and whatever guy of the moment Amber was dating.

And every time she would get sad or frustrated about that difference, he would squeeze her hand or kiss her lightly. She hadn’t even had to say a word, and he knew. It’d never been like that with anyone else she’d dated.

Everything was going way too fast, but she couldn’t stop herself from texting him during the day or showing up at his place with takeout or groceries so they could cook together. He was a much better cook than she was. The smell of the broccoli she’d burned the other night still haunted her.

“But you make a mean garlic bread,” he’d teased her as he’d dumped the broccoli—and the pot—in the trash. It’d been scorched beyond repair.

“It’s frozen garlic bread, Desmond.”

“You put it perfectly on that cookie sheet,” he’d said, with a grin and she’d rolled her eyes at him.

And then he’d tugged her into his body and kissed the hell out of her.

She loved nights like that. Just the two of them, learning about each other—falling in love.

And she’d finally grabbed a Strikers’ shirt with Desmond’s name and number on it. To wear under her generic Strikers’ hoodie, of course. She wasn’t ready to wear a jersey with his name across her shoulders for everyone to see.

She wasn’t sure that would ever be possible without her dad freaking out.

They still hadn’t talked about that.

But she couldn’t think about that now. She had to focus on making sure everything was set up for the season ticket holder meet and greet that was starting in an hour.

It was Saturday night and the team had gotten back from a four-day road trip yesterday afternoon. They didn’t have another game until tomorrow, so it worked out perfectly to have the meet and greet today.

She walked through the large space, making sure all the signage was up and the tables were in place. The players would arrive in the next forty-five minutes and she wanted everything to be perfect.

The players would be paired up two to a table. She double-checked all the name tents so the guys would know where to sit. She had a stack of team photos that the fans could get signed and Sharpies at every seat.

“Looks great,” Brenda said, taking a quick walk-through and stopping next to Rylie. “Thanks for overseeing all of this.”

“Of course. Edwin’s bringing Biscuit by so the fans can take pictures too.”

“Perfect. You are doing a great job, Rylie,” Brenda said.

“Thanks,” Rylie replied.

She truly loved her job. Every day—every event—was different. Yes, there were monotonous moments with paperwork and expense reports, but most of the time, she was helping out with events like this and assisting the media team with promotions.

It meant a lot that her coworkers still saw her as herself, and not who she was related to. It was another reason that she was hesitant to step out of her bubble with Desmond.

***

An hour later,when the guys were at their seats, she tried not to give any extra attention to Desmond, but she swore he had more questions than anyone else. He also looked delectable in his jersey and suit pants.

He leaned over to grab a pen he’d dropped on the floor, and she tried not to swallow her tongue.

There were a ton of great asses in the room right now, but there was only one Desmond.

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