Page 120 of Red Zone
The steam still clings to my skin as I tighten the laces of my boots, my heart stubbornly refusing to calm down, even though Carter’s been gone for almost an hour.
I glance at myself again in the mirror, tugging at the hem of my PCU jacket, trying to make sure I don’t look like someone who spent the entire night wrapped up in the one person she swore she’d never get tangled up with.
No luck there.
My cheeks are still a little flushed, and there’s a softness in my eyes I don’t quite recognize.
I huff out a breath, grabbing my bag and phone before heading down the hall toward the kitchen.
When I round the corner, Madison is already there, waiting.
She’s sitting at the island, dressed for the game in a pair of dark jeans and a white sweater, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail. She’s cradling a mug of tea in her hands, elbows resting on the countertop as she watches me walk in.
There’s a faint, knowing little smile playing at her lips.
I stop halfway into the kitchen, suddenly hyperaware of how quiet the apartment is.
She takes a slow sip from her mug, her eyes never leaving mine.
“You’re alive,” she says finally, her voice deceptively light.
I blink at her, adjusting the strap of my bag over my shoulder.
“Barely,” I mutter, trying to sound casual as I cross to the counter and grab my water bottle.
But she doesn’t let up.
That little smile stays firmly in place as she sets her mug down and leans her chin on her hand.
“You know,” she says mildly. “If you wanted me to stay gone longer, you could’ve just said so.”
I groan, pressing my hand to my forehead. “Don’t start, Maddy.”
She laughs softly, picking her mug back up.
“I’m just saying,” she murmurs into her tea. “You might want to work on your subtlety before Coach Harding figures it out.”
That makes me freeze for just a second.
But when I glance at her again, she’s still smiling—gentle now, not teasing.
“You like him,” she says simply.
I swallow hard and turn back to the counter, screwing the lid on my water bottle tighter than necessary.
“It was a one-time thing,” I mumble instead, ignoring the way my stomach twists at her words. “Just needed to get it out of our systems and all that.”
She snorts. “Hate to tell you, but that never works out for the fictional couples in my romance books.”
Looking into my bag, I make sure everything is there before turning toward the door. “You riding with me or coming later?”
Getting the hint that I’m done with the conversation, she hops up and grabs her bag. “I enjoy seeing a certain wide receiver in his football pants a little too much to pass up the opportunity for extra sight seeing.”
I can’t help but laugh at her as we head toward my car, even though my thoughts are stuck on a certain quarterback.
One time. That’s all we agreed on…. Right?
The stadium is already buzzing by the time I make it down to the field.
