But it fucking wrecks me like she’s singing it at the top of her lungs.
Her thigh brushes the edge of the armrest when she crosses her legs up on the seat, and all I can think about is last night. That soft gasp. Her breath catching on my name.
I want to reach over. Slide my hand between her thighs. Feel how wet she is right now.
But I don’t. I can’t.
Instead, I grip the steering wheel tighter and pretend I’m not the most fucked-up guy in LA right now.
Courtney breathes out a hoarse breath, stroking her fingers down Sammy’s silky coat as she says, “He likes riding in your car.”
“He’s got good taste.”
I don’t mean to look at where he’s now fully nestled between her thighs. I don’t mean to scowl at my happy puppy like he’s shitting on my dreams. But I do, because he’s exactly where I want to be. Between her sexy as hell legs.
“Want me to keep him safe for you until we go home later?” Courtney offers.
The word flips my stomach over.
Home.
She said it like it included me, and I can only nod my agreement as we reach the training facility and I park in the corner away from my usual spot so she can get out of the car without stirring the rumor mill.
It doesn’t work because the instant she jumps out with Samson in her arms, Matheo and Jayden spot her from across the lot where they’re talking to Eli.
Court has barely disappeared inside ahead of me when Jayden whistles. “Mornin’, lover boy.”
Matheo glares at me. “Tell me you’re not fucking Coach’s daughter. Please. I’m begging.”
“Shut it,” I mutter, pushing through the door and allowing it to slam into Matheo.
Jayden grins. “We had our theories, butdamn—bringing her to work? That’s bold.”
Eli doesn’t say a word. Just watches. Quiet. Sharp. Like he sees everything. Then with a laugh at Jayden’s dorky ass shenanigans, he disappears into the locker room with Jayden quick on his heels.
Not Matheo, though. He pulls me back into the hallway as I’m walking in.
“For real. What’s going on, Bruce? Are you about to fuck our season before it’s started? Girl’s cradling your puppy…” Matheo groans. “That’s third-base commitment, minimum.”
I don’t respond.
I just walk off, into the locker room.
But in my head?
The word home shines like a promise.
And I know—I'm a goner for her. Whatever the consequences, I’m lost.
And I don’t want to be found.
TEN
COURTNEY
At first,it’s cute.
The coffee waiting outside my door.