Page 5 of Catching Feelings

I don’t give her time to finish that dumbass statement and grab her hand, tugging her toward the parking lot. No way in Hell I’m leaving her unattended so all the single males can get to her. For the first time since I met her, I’m not competing for her attention.

She’s not blanketed by Kendall or Riley or the other players’ wives. Not being accosted by my other single teammates. I’ve got her full attention and plan on taking advantage of every second I have with her before someone else swarms on her, dragging her away from me.

“I’m feeling a little dizzy from all the blood loss. I’d feel better if you were close by in case I faint or something.”

“Right. Because I’ll be able to catch you.”

“You’d at least break my fall. Lessen the blow.” And now I’m picturing my body pinning hers to the ground.

Her snort-laugh is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. I unlock my truck and grab my bag from the backseat. I yank out another shirt and tug it over my head and pull out a pair of gray joggers.

Rowan gasps when I drop my shorts, and I look over my shoulder at her. She spins around so her back is to me and I chuckle.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’m used to changing in locker rooms in front of the guys, and even the press.” I strip off my boxer briefs and tug on my joggers. Instead of fishing around for a dry pair of briefs, I go commando and pull my joggers up. “Strip show’s over.”

The open door of my truck shielded me from the field, and the parking lot was empty, so I’m pretty sure no one got a peep show. It’s not the best PR to have my naked ass—no matter how tight and toned it is—to be flashed all over social media.

“You have no shame, huh?” Rowan chuckles and turns around. “Much better—” Her eyes dart down my chest and stop at the front of my joggers. Her cheeks turn bright pink and my junk stiffens.

Maybe going commando wasn’t the best idea. Especially not in front of hundreds of teens and their parents. I scratch the side of my neck and turn back to my truck. I have a hoodie tossed back here somewhere. It will hide a little more than my fitted T-shirt.

“Uh. Okay. Yeah.” She shakes her head and turns away again. “So, uh. Lunch?”

“Sorry about that.” I close and lock the truck door and walk with her toward the food trucks. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I should have thought about my surroundings before dropping my pants.”

“It’s okay.”Fuck. That laugh.“I’m a nurse. I’ve seen it all.”

“Please, fuck. Don’t tell me I look like a kid in your pediatrics office.”

Rowan bursts out laughing. “Not in the slightest. I meant when I was working in the ER. Trust me. I saw every shape, size, and, uh, embarrassing moments.”

“Do tell me about these embarrassing moments.”

“You wouldn’t even believe the objects we had to fish out of inappropriate places.”

“You forget I have the brain of a teenage boy. I can imagine.”

“How could I forget?” She giggles.

When we reach the food area, I follow her as she checks out every single truck. Twice. My stomach growls, and I’d be annoyed and impatient if she weren’t so freaking cute studying each menu, then going back to compare the choices. Seriously. Cute girls don’t do it for me. At least, they didn’t use to.

“What are you deciding between?”

“I haven’t had a burger in forever, but the grilled chicken and onions smell so good. And then there’s the fresh cut fries or onion rings. Or the sweet potato fries. But I also want fried dough.”

“I don’t see what the problem is. Why not get it all?”

“The problem is I rarely eat fried food because it all goes straight to my ass.”

Since I’m not a respectable gentleman, I bend to the side to check out her ass. Not like I haven’t been all afternoon. Fuck. All year. She doesn’t often wear tight-fitting clothes, but if you look close enough—and, yes, I look—you can see the shape of her round globes under her scrubs.

“Like I said, I don’t see any problem there.”

Instead of blushing or taking the compliment as most women would, she blows it off like I’m not being serious. Does she know her ass is even more tempting because of how hard you have to work to picture the shape of her body under her loose-fitting and shapeless scrubs?

“I guess I’ll have the chicken,” she says.

We step up to the food truck and I order two chicken bombs, sweet potato fries, and a couple waters. I ask Rowan to wait for the food while I cross over to the other food truck she was ogling and order two burgers, onion rings, and fries.

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