Page 32 of Falling for the Quarterback
“I would never drive like an idiot with animals in the vehicle. I don’t drive like an idiot, period, but you get what I mean.”
I nod. I do get it. I get him, in a way I never would’ve imagined before. “Are you and your mom close?”
“I like to think so. She’s always been there for me, and I try to call her at least once a week. It usually ends up being more, though.”
“That’s great. I hope my sons will say the same about me, too.”
“How old are they? I know they’re obviously grown; I saw the pictures in the RV.”
I nod. I have several pictures of my boys, although they aren’t so young anymore. “They’re nineteen and twenty-one. Grown up, but will still be my little boys for the rest of their lives.”
“I bet you are an amazing mom. You have such a big heart.”
My chest feels all warm and gooey again. He seems to have this permanent effect on me, and it’s addicting. “Thank you, hopefully you can meet them soon. Um, what will I be doing while you have practice? Surely, I’m not allowed to watch you?”
“You can watch me sometimes, but this is a closed practice since we’re preparing for the game. I figured we’ll go back to my place, and you guys can hang out there while I take care of football stuff. After, we can have dinner. Order in or something, if you’re up for it?”
“You’re going to want me to stick around after you’re done?”
“Absolutely. I’m not ready for our time together to end, if you’re not.”
Ditto.
I want to climb this man like a tree, especially after he jumped in to protect me and keep my privacy safe. I never thought bossy JJ would be such a big turn on, but here I am, thinking about blowing him while he drives.
Chapter Fifteen
JJ
“Sleepgoodlastnight,QB?” My teammate winks and grins as he jogs into formation. I’ve gotten twenty or so similar comments already today. What the heck is going on?
Dawson smirks, smacking me on the back as he lines up. “Saw the recent articles about you and your woman. They’re calling you guysCamfordnow.” He laughs.
“What?” I ask, getting distracted when I should be calling the next play. Of course, there are new articles, I should’ve suspected, but I’ve been a little distracted with driving back home from Kinsley’s and having her at my house. For the first time I can remember, I’m ready to go home, rather than throw footballs all day. I’m giddy inside over the fact that she’s in my space. I want her there permanently.
“You know…Camdon and Bradford, but put together,” he explains.
I sigh. Because seriously?
With a grumble, I reply, “We have a game to prepare for gentlemen. Are you all ready to go to work, maybe prepare for a game we have in three days’ time? I don’t know about you, but I plan on winning.” And not talking about my personal life until Kinsley’s comfortable with it.
Seventy-nine, my center, Doug Friendly, pauses. “Look, Cap, we’re all just wondering when you’re going to bring her around so we can meet her.”
“Stop worrying about my woman, Friendly, and concentrate on keeping my pocket safe. Now, let’s fucking go!” I end up screaming the last part, and the team’s backs snap straight on both offense and defense, ready for the next call. “Niner-Niner-Pumpkin-Twist-Back, let’s run it.Set,hike!”
With several loud grunts, both lines go head-to-head as the ball is hiked. I catch it, step back, one, two, three, four, five, and twist. Thirty-seven comes barreling my way for the hand off. Which I make flawlessly, of course, and then he’s hauling ass down the open route, toward the endzone. He gets nine yards in before he’s tackled, and we line up. The moment we’re moving into position, the questions hit me again.
“Will she be at the game?” Fifty-three, Tatum Knight, on defense, asks.
“I’m working on it,” I admit with a huff, and several snicker. Assholes.
“QB doesn’t have her quite locked down,” Dawson tells the group, and I glower in his direction.
“Do too. She’s at my house right now with her dogs.”
A loud whistle from one of them catches my attention next. “Damn, QB, you wifey’ing her up, now, huh?”
If she’ll let me.
