Page 220 of Vegas Heat

“If anyone here is clingy, it’s me. I’m sticking to you like plastic wrap, baby, and you are not getting rid of me easily.”

I giggle at his comparison, and I decide to let it go as I head toward his house to let him prove to me how he really feels.

CHAPTER 9: COOPER

We both oversleep the next morning, unsurprising considering we were up late “making up” after our fake fight.

At least we’re both waking with smiles on our faces, but hers doesn’t last long when she spies the clock.

“Shit!” she yells, jumping out of bed and grabbing her clothes. “I’m late for class!”

“Take the day off,” I suggest sleepily. “You’re already missing your later class anyway for the parade. Besides, I’m going to need help corralling all the new players.”

She sets her hand on her hip. “And you thinkIcan help with that?”

I laugh. “No, but I do think seeing your sunshine face there will help make it easier on me.”

“You think it’s going to be rough?”

“Gabby, these are players coming toVegas. Imagine playing in, I don’t know, Minnesota or Cleveland or Milwaukee and getting called into a town like Vegas. You’re leaving cold, harsh winters for fucking Sin City. Some want to be here, and others won’t, but either way, they’re stepping immediately into a party. Somehow I’ve been tapped as the guy who’s supposed to keep them from getting arrested.” I shake my head. “It’s going to be an uphill climb.”

She blows out a breath and perches on the edge of the bed in serious contemplation, and I can tell she’s the type of student whonevermisses class unless it’s an absolute necessity. I reach over for her and pull her into my arms, toppling her over so she comes back down on top of me.

She giggles. “You really do have your way of convincing me to see things your way, don’t you?”

I press a kiss to the back of her hand and thrust my hips toward hers. “Did it work?”

She sighs. “Yeah, it worked.”

“Good. Now get that cute ass of yours naked again so I can work you over in the shower before we have to get to the stadium.”

“Yes sir,” she says, stripping out of her clothes again, and then I make good on my promise.

After pumpkin pancakes that she makes and I pretend to like, we head toward the stadium together in our separate cars. She goes up to the marketing department to make sure everything is lined up the way Joanie wants it while I move toward the clubhouse, and I’m met with Danny Brewer shotgunning a beer.

“Dude, it’s eight-fucking-thirty in the morning!” I say, and Rush stands beside him laughing.

“It’s parade day,” he says with a shrug, and as I glance around, I find a clubhouse full of guys who are starting their avenues toward being either drunk or high. Danny appears to be some sort of ringleader, which isn’t shocking, but I thought since the two of us had become so close in the last few weeks, maybe he’d err on the side of responsibility.

Turns out I was dead wrong.

I spot cans already filling the garbage can beside him, and the glassy look in his eyes tells me a bunch of them belong to him.

Add to that the fact that the league removed marijuana from its list of banned substances a couple years ago, and now it’s treated the same way as alcohol…that means it’s fairly commonplace among players.

And weed is legal here in Vegas.

The combination of that means players in the off-season are already taking advantage of all Vegas has to offer with little to noconcern as to what sort of impression they’re making with their new ball club, going so far as to actually drink beerinside oftheir new clubhouse.

“If Troy was here, he’d kick all your asses,” I say.

“Well he’s not,” Danny counters.

“No, but I am.” I grab the case of beer behind him and carry it with me out of the clubhouse despite the protests following in my wake.

Troy brought me in to be a leader. This is where it starts.

I hide the beer in the backseat of my truck, seething the entire way that this is somehow where I ended up. A few months ago, I was working happily with kids and living a fairly quiet, private existence.

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