WALKER

Fuck. Seeing Riley wear my number has my cock twitching in my shorts and my heart thumping in my chest. I’ve seen hundreds of other women with my number on their front and my name on their back, and not once did it ever elicit a territorial pull at my cock.

I want to bury myself balls deep into Riley while she’s wearing nothing but my jersey, and then do it again when she’s wearing nothing at all. I’ve been hard as fucking granite since I saw her in the stands. At one point during the game, I thought my dick was going to break off if I got hit the wrong way.

My training taught me to push away outside distractions once I step on the field, but the second my cleats returned to the sidelines, my cock tuned into Riley like a fucking magnetic pull on a compass.

Riley doesn’t say anything until I pull out of the stadium parking lot. The traffic has thinned now that most of the fans have left, but there’s still a bit of congestion. For once, I don’t mind the delay.

I turn down the music and clear my throat, nervous as to how to start this conversation. “Thanks again for convincing everyone to come to the game. It means a lot.”

“They didn’t need any convincing. Jackson and Taylor were excited to watch you, and Rowan too. Kendall, well, no offense but she came to check out all the other players.” A cute laugh escapes her lips.

“I’d expect no less from her. And I’m not offended in the least. You and Jackson coming and wearing my jersey is more than I ever could have asked for.”

“That’s sad.” Riley claps her hand over her mouth. She wiggles in her seat. “I’m sorry. That was cruel. I didn’t mean...it’s just that...”

“It’s okay, Riley. You’re right. It is sad.” I don’t want her to be here out of pity, and the thought that I’m a charity case has me frowning.

“Walker.” She reaches across the center console and squeezes my arm. “Ever since I learned you were a football player, I’ve wanted to watch you play. I’ve grown up watching all sports, but actually knowing someone on the field? Someone whose name is chanted by thousands? It’s pretty cool.”

“Don’t tell me you’re star struck,” I tease. “I’m the same guy you met a few months ago.”

Only I’m not. And she’s not the same woman.

“Kendall’s beyond star struck, and your brother ate up all the chants from the crowd, pretending they were cheering him instead of you.”

Not the answer I’m looking for, but I won’t push. That she’s here with me, is moving in the right direction. I have a ways to go to prove myself worthy of her. We reach the restaurant before I’m ready to share her with her friends, but I hide my disappointment.

Riley is out of the SUV before I make it to her side, but I don’t let her walk in without being close to her. I place my hand respectfully on her lower back, only slightly touching her as a gentleman would. Not as a man who has kissed her. Had her naked. Licked, sucked, and kissed her most intimate parts.

The hostess greets us, and I don’t miss the star struck look in her eyes. Riley comes to my rescue before the awkwardness of my fame sets in.

“Hi there. You should have a reservation for six under Taylor.”

The hostess looks down at her notes on the podium. “I do. Is your party all here?”

“They should be arriving any minute. They’re right behind us,” Riley offers.

We follow the hostess through a labyrinth of tables, and I’m surprised she seats us at a semi-private table in the back corner.

“Is this okay? We don’t have a private dining room, but my manager said we’d do our best to give your party privacy.”

I’ll have to thank Taylor when he arrives. I’m not used to such special treatment, mostly because I don’t usually go out after games unless we’re away and a group is hanging out at the hotel bar. I’m not anti-social, but I’m not social either.

“This is perfect, thank you,” I say, taking the menus from the hostess.

It’s not upscale, which I appreciate as well, but not a dive restaurant either. Holding out a chair, I wait for Riley to sit and take a seat next to her. Across is nice so I can stare at her, but tonight I want to be close to her.

“Can I get you something to drink while you wait for the rest of your party?”

I wait for Riley to order first. “I’ll have a strawberry margarita, please.”

“Whatever domestic you have on tap is fine. Thank you.”

As soon as she disappears, the rest of the crew appears. It’s not like I thought I’d have a romantic dinner alone with Riley, but I’d hoped for a few more minutes. A few more minutes to talk about what, I’m not sure. Maybe the distraction is what we need to feel more comfortable around each other.

They fill the seats, with Jackson on my left and Rowan on Riley’s right. The next hour passes in a blur as we laugh over nachos, fajitas, and a round of drinks. I only had my one beer and am sipping on water when Kendall orders Riley another margarita.