Page 26 of Personal Foul

There was a little apprehension in her eyes as she looked around the sparse room. She had a desk and chest of drawers, and the twin bed was going to be hell to sleep on. He was six foot five and weighed two hundred forty pounds of muscle. He was going to break that damn bed.

“Maybe I should just go back to the hotel.”

“No, because I have an idea,” she said suddenly lighting up. “You can sleep in my bed. It’s a queen, so it’s better for you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And where will you be sleeping?”

“I can sleep in here.”

“No,” he said. “I can’t kick you out of your own bed. I’ll go back to the hotel before I do that.”

She waved away that statement. “It’s just sleep. Until you find out if you’re staying here in St. Louis.”

It wasn’t often he was rendered speechless, but Romilly did that with one simple gesture. Come to think about it, she did that a lot. Willing to uproot her life to accommodate him, and while he was used to a certain amount of people bending over backward when he was around, this was something entirely different.

Shewas someone entirely different.

Romilly was beautiful without it going to her head. She was caring, by the way she took an animal that wasn’t even her own pet to a dog park. She was generous to everyone she met. Maybe a little too generous. The woman needed a keeper sopeople couldn’t take advantage of her.

With that thought came the guilt he was good at ignoring. The paparazzi had already started following them. There’d been a few snapped photos of their dates posted on social media. If—when—he made the team, it would get more intense for her. He did have a certain level of celebrity status, thanks to his father, and the fact he had dated a few high-profile actresses and models, including the daughter of his last coach. Truthfully, it had been only a matter of time before everything exploded. Or maybe “imploded” would be a better phase. Was he doing the right thing? Could Romilly hold up under the pressure of being in the spotlight.

He fucking hoped so, because he liked being with her. The initial plan had been to break it off when the season started, but now he wondered if they could have a real relationship. If that was the case, then he didn’t have to worry about the motives behind his actions. She would never need to know he planned to use her because it would be a moot point.

Feeling infinitely better about his deception, he put his arms around her and squeezed. She felt so damn good in his arms.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she murmured, snuggling into his chest.

“I should know by the end of this coming week if they decided to buy my contract.” God, he fucking hoped so. “If they do, I’m pretty much a sure thing to be on the team. But, there’s always that small amount of doubt lingering. I feel like an anvil is on my chest. Hard to even breathe.”

She tightened her arms around him. “They will. I know it. I don’t know much about football, so I had to watch a few videos of you on the field.”

“And?”

She grinned up at him. “Even I understood how good youare. You got this in the bag.”

Something hit him in the chest, in the region of his heart. Something … all consuming. Like he just stepped off into a bottomless pit and was free-falling. It unsettled him.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Anytime.”

Just then his cell phone rang and he dug it out of his pocket. His mom’s name lit up and he answered the call.

“Hey, Mom. I was just thinking I had to call you.”

Romilly left him in the room, giving him a bit of privacy.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said. “I just wanted to check in. See how you’re doing.”

“I haven’t heard anything from the coaches or the general manager, but I have a good feeling.”

“I have my fingers and toes crossed.”

“Toes?”

“I figured more things crossed the better.”

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