Page 45 of Dirty Player

“Touchdown! For the Philadelphia Hawkes and they take the game,” the announcer cries.

Both Kaylee and I leap up at the same time and bounce off each other. I grab her, as she grabs me, and my shoulder hurts like a motherfucker. But her hands are up against my chest and the joy in her eyes as she giggles up at me is like the best pain relief known to man.

Almost.

It does still hurt like fuck.

If a million eyes weren’t on us right now, I think I would probably kiss her. The urge to tug her against me, drop my mouth to hers is so damn powerful I am not sure how I’mnotdoing it.

“We won,” she says, not looking away.

“We did,” I reply roughly, though no one will hear with all the cheering.

Our players return from the field and Kaylee spins and holds her arms up to protect me when someone tries to slap me on the back.

“Injured!” she calls out.

I snort.

She’s so damn little it’s hilarious she’s standing in front of me right now.

Billows runs off the field and glances at the two of us. He picks her up, drops her back on the ground a few feet away, then embraces me.

I’ve never felt more pain in my life.

“You played well, brother. Those touchdowns in the beginning, man, they got us to the finish.” He slaps me one more time on my injured shoulder.

“Jackson.” Kaylee nudges at him. “You’re hurting him.”

He pants, still catching his breath as he stares down at her. “Nah, you did that already. Don’t do it again, okay?”

Woah.

He’s never said a word to me.

Her mouth falls open as Billows walks away, and then her eyes land on me. I see the hurt immediately.

“Kaylee.”

“Don’t. I get it.”

I take her hand, discretely, and tug her to me as she turns to move away.

“I didn’t say anything. You came with me to the party.”

She nods, glancing down.

I tip her head up with my finger. “He just assumed something that isn’t there. I’ll clear it up with him.”

We aren’t together.

I watch as she shakes it off and gives me a fake smile. “Yeah, of course. Let me get your boot back on and then we can head inside to put the sling on you.”

This is how it should be. Just friends. Colleagues.

So why does my heart ache so much?

I want to see that smile on her face again. The sparkle in her eyes. The feel of her touch on my body, and so fucking much more, I don’t let myself think about it.

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