Page 2 of Run Game
“Thanks, Mom,” I reply on a laugh, squeezing her tiny frame before setting her back onto her feet. She cups my cheeks with her hands and I don’t miss the twinkle in her eyes as she tries to hold back her tears.
“That’s how you do it, Champ,” my dad says with abig grin stretched across his face. He leans in, wrapping his arms around me and slapping the back of my shoulder pads with his large hand.
I give him a tight nod, trying not to get too emotional. These people have made so many sacrifices to get me here today, and even though I tell them as much as I can, I’m just so grateful for their love and support.
“We’ll let you go celebrate, baby,” my mom says, stepping back into my dad as he wraps an arm around her waist. “Go have some fun. You deserve it!”
We say our goodbyes and I start walking toward my best friend and star wide receiver, Blaze Beckham, who is definitely not being shy about ramming his tongue down his girlfriend’s throat. Mads, who just bagged her first Super Bowl as the official Blizzard sideline reporter for Tailgate Media, is completely wrapped around him as they shamelessly dry hump in front of about sixty thousand fans. I’d remind them of that, but the kinky fuckers would probably just get more turned on.
When they’ve finally detached themselves from each other, I make my move. “Hey, Becks,” I yell, loud enough to catch his attention. “Lake has the jet readied up. Let’s go to Vegas!”
He sets Mads back on the ground, not breaking eye contact with her. “What do you say, Baby Doll? Want to go play in Sin City?”
“Definitely,” she replies with a mischievous grin before turning to the person behind her. “What about you, Dia? You in?”
I hold my breath, praying that she says yes. Any extra time I get to spend in the presence of Dia Spencer is always something I want. I’m obsessed with the girl and I don’t even try to hide it. She may think I’m joking when Ihit on her every chance I get, but I’m dead serious. I want her in a way I’ve never wanted anyone before. Unfortunately, every advance is met with a different colorful insult. Last week, she told me to go fuck a goalpost. She’s creative. I’ll admit that much.
Her eyes flit to me for a split second before she answers her best friend. “Sure. Why not?”
Fuck yeah.
What better place to finally make her mine than under the bright lights of Las Vegas? A few drinks to loosen up her icy personality toward me, and I’ll sweep her off her feet with my charm. I’ve done it a million times.
But never with her.
When I met Dia a few months ago, Ifeltsomething shift within me. I tried to cover it up with a joke about how I needed to text my mom and tell her I had just met the girl I was going to marry, but the way my heart was thumping in my chest at the sight of her told me that she wasn’t like any of the other women I’d ever met. Unfortunately, Dia warned me away almost immediately.“You’re cute, but I’d break you.”were her exact words. Normally, that would be enough to have me running the other way to avoid the drama, but with her, all it did was make me desperate to break down her walls. I know Dia has had a rough life. Mads has told me as much. But fuck if I don’t want to get inside her head and take out every bad memory, replacing them with new ones.
I know what you’re thinking. That I only want her because I can’t have her. That I like the chase. And you’re partially right. When you’re an All-American running back that verbally committed to Ohio State University in the tenth grade, you don’t really hear the wordnovery often. Every woman I’ve ever dated has treated me likesome kind of a meal ticket, so I swore off relationships the moment I was drafted by the Boston Blizzard almost four years ago. It’s been a long string of meaningless one night stands ever since.
I’m not going to pretend like it’s been a hardship. I’ve spent wild nights with the city’s most beautiful women. Sometimes with more than one of them at a time. But for some reason, the only one I’ve wanted more with isher.The one girl in this whole world that seems revolted by my existence.
Ain’t that a bitch.
I’m no quitter, though. I know Dia secretly loves our back-and-forth. She feels the attraction and tension the same way I do. She has to. I can practically touch it with my hands when we’re bantering with each other. But for some reason, she refuses to take it any further than a few perfectly delivered verbal digs every time we’re together. That shit ends tonight, no matter what it takes.
The bass of the electronic dance music thumps through the floors as I sit in the VIP section of the hotel bar with the guys. As soon as we arrived, the girls took off to get drinks while we watched from afar. Maverick, our star defensive end, being smitten by his new girlfriend Bella, was the first to leave. I’m sure he’s gifting her with a one-way ticket to Pound Town as we speak. So, it’s just Blaze, Tanner, andme, watching as Mads makes her way around the dance floor, champagne sloshing over the rim of her glass as she moves.
Suddenly, a man comes up behind her, grabbing her hips and swaying along to the beat. At first, I wait for her to turn around and punch the asshole square in the dick. But she doesn’t. She just continues dancing while he keeps his hands planted on her body.
I’m almost afraid to look at Blaze. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Mads. And that includes killing a stranger with his bare hands for even looking at her, let alone daring to touch her. I use my peripheral vision to peek in his direction, expecting to find him fuming, but end up doing a double take when I realize he’s just…watching her.
I turn, my jaw practically on the floor as he sips his whiskey like his girlfriend isn’t being groped on the dance floor twenty yards away. “Uhhh, you okay bro?” I ask, confusion lacing my tone.
“Yep,” he replies with a smirk, never taking his eyes off Mads, who has now turned and wrapped her arms around the guy’s neck while they dance.
Am I in the fucking Twilight Zone? Why is he letting this happen?
I turn to Tanner, hoping he can provide me with a little bit of clarity, but he’s looking at Blaze with his tongue shoved into his cheek. If I’m not mistaken, there’s mischief in his eyes as he moves them back and forth between the couple.
“Am I being Punk’d?” I say out loud. “You’re seriously just going to let her do?—”
Tanner speaks up from beside me. “Three…two…”
Blaze throws back what’s left of his drink, slams theglass down on the table, and heads straight for the dance floor.
“One,” Tanner says with a knowing chuckle.
I sit there, gaping like a fish as he pats me on the shoulder before standing up and leaving the VIP area. I look over to find that Blaze and Mads are gone, as well. The douche canoe that had his hands all over her has moved on to the next girl, which means Blaze didn’t beat his ass.Fucking weird.I wonder where they went. I wonder whereeveryonewent.
