Page 71 of The Jock
He ducked his head and pressed his lips together, trying to force a smile. “That’s a little personal, ma’am.”
“So you don’t kiss and tell?”
“No, ma’am.”
“You’re a good guy, Wes.” She reached for him, squeezing his biceps, then turned to the camera to end her segment. Once the camera was off, she turned back to Wes. “I’d love to buy you dinner tonight. I could tell you all about the NFL and line up some conversations with coaches I know. Just a few friendly chats between them and you about the league.”
The locker room went silent, the bustle and hum of conversations dropping to a hush as everyone pretended to be busy with their locker junk. Folding shirts they’d never folded in their lives, or wiping nonexistent stains off their helmets. Behind the reporter’s back, Colton stood with his eyes as wide as dinner plates, white running all the way around his irises. He nodded, comically huge, and gave Wes two big thumbs up.
“Thank you for the offer, ma’am,” Wes said, stepping back. “But I’m sorry, I’ve got plans tonight.”
He saw the shock in Colton’s face, in Orlando’s, in all the guys’ stunned looks and dropped jaws. No one turned down a beautiful woman like that. And no one who wanted to play in the NFL turned down the opportunity to meet and greet with the league heavies.
“Well, congratulations on your win today, Mr. Van de Hoek.” She held out her hand and he shook it. She gathered her bag and walked out of the locker room, not looking back.
He was swarmed in under a second, Colton and the rest of the guys shoving him left and right, asking him what the hell was he thinking. What the hell did he have to do that night that was so much more important than networking with her? “Dude, I know you got your girl, but man—” Colton said.
“You got a girl?” Orlando jumped in. “Whoa whoa whoa! When did you get yourself a girl?”
“Who has a girl?” one of the linebackers boomed from the next row of lockers.
“Wes!” Art shouted. “But he’s been keeping her a secret!”
“Why are you keeping her a secret?” Quinton asked. “Bring her around!”
Wes shot Colton a look as he stripped off his jersey and unhooked his pads. He’d stayed suited up for the interview because it played better, according to the media relations people at the university. He’d had to read a whole manual before the season began about what to say, how to act, how to represent the university. What would get him fined and what would get him suspended or expelled.
“Who is this girl, man?” Orlando wouldn’t drop it. “Where did y’all meet?”
He peeled off his pants and threw everything in his locker, then wrapped his towel around his waist. Everyone was crowding him. Smothering him.
He’d made love to Justin right there, where Josh was straddling the bench.
He shoved through the offensive players he loved like brothers. “I gotta shower.”
“Wes, don’t be like that!” Art shouted. “Why you hiding from us?”
“We just wanna know if she’s pretty!” Patrick hollered. The guys busted up laughing, catcalling and whistling as Wes retreated.
Wes waved his hand over his shoulder and headed for the showers.
Chapter Twenty-One
Justin smiledas he saw Wes heading for the truck, but then hesitated when he saw the strain lining his love’s face.
Wes threw himself through the passenger door, flopping sideways on the bench seat and groaning. He rolled his face against Justin’s thigh and kissed his denim-covered leg. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“You okay?” Justin slid his hand into Wes’s hair. It was longer now, shaggier. He hadn’t cut it since the season began.
Wes squeezed his eyes closed. “Headache.”
“I heard your interview.”
Another groan. Wes dug his face into Justin’s thigh. Spoke into his jeans. His voice was muffled, and Justin had to strain to hear what he said. “She asked me out to dinner tonight. Said she could hook me up with some NFL coaches.”
“Do you want to go?”
Wes rolled onto his back, glaring up at Justin. “What? No way. Are you kidding?”
