Page 11 of My Secret Bandit

“No, Jamie,” he said, dropping the teasing tone. This was the first time since we met that my mentor addressed me as anything but my last name. It was kind of nice.

“This doesn’t affect you coming to practice. I know I tend to be a bit of an asshole, but I want you to be happy. And if the reactions I saw from both of you are any indication, you’ll be head over heels in no time. But if the media finds out you’rethewoman. If the situation ever begins to be too much. Do. Not. Come.And I’m calling dibs on any exclusives.“ His smile turned teasing again, but concern remained in his eyes. I nodded my agreement, and he gave me his usual hand wave. The quick flick of his wrist signaling we were done for now.

“Hey, boss,” I called back, leaning into the door frame before leaving. “I didn’t think of you as the hopeless romantic type.”

“Well, Flynn. Let’s just say, my cover reads nothing like my pages.” He winked before turning back to his computer.

After a Sunday game, the following two days for the team were R&R heavy. Monday morning treatment sessions tended to the players’ aches and pains, and Tuesday was their day off. That, along with skipping pre-practice interviews today, allowed me some time to let the story die down before attending practice for the first time.

The smell of freshly cut grass engulfed me once I passed through the iron gates.

Up on the field, players went through stretches. Even in a group of more than fifty other men, my eyes latched onto Mateo, confirming this weird pull I felt toward him. He sat on the turf, his body long and muscles flexed as his back stretched and his hands curled around the bottom of red and white cleats. A heatwave ran through my body, and my heart dropped into my stomach.

How can this man affect me so much?

Seeing him again formed knots in my stomach. This was what I wanted. What I thought I needed, but it was still too much. I mean, I’d barely been here five minutes, and I already ogled the man to death.

Do I talk to him?

Thank him for helping me?

Ignore him until the story has fizzled out?

Continue my cowardly ways and leave right now?

Compared to the chaos warring in my head, practice provided a much more subdued environment. I found Jeffrey and Kyle and shuffled over to them, focusing on the field instead.

The team separated and moved through different drills, joking and playing between turns. A handful of other press members stood spread out along the sidelines. As groups took breaks, a few would talk to the players. The conversations looked relaxed and natural. Really, the total opposite of game day.

Being here, I understood why Jeffrey preferred practice. It offered a more personal way to get to know the players, but I loved the noise and excitement of game day. The adrenaline of it.

I tried my best not to look for Mateo. I failed almost every time and let my eyes linger longer than I should have as he moved effortlessly through their workout.

I watched his helmet lift off. His skin glistened as he drank from a water bottle, squirting it in his face to escape some of the late summer heat that seeped into the opened roof of the practice field.

Time slowed when he raised the hem of his shirt to wipe off the excess, exposing toned abs and trim hips that created a deep V line disappearing beyond the waistband of his shorts. The harmless act was the most potent aphrodisiac. Erotic and suggestive and downright steamy.

The shame that crept over me made one thing clear: I needed practice to be over.

I waited with Kyle—in silence, of course—for Jeffrey to finish talking to one coach before making our way out.

“Wait up!”

My breathing stopped, and my heart damn near broke my chest with a forceful kick to my sternum. That voice had forever implanted itself into my memory.

I shot a quickoh shitglance at Jeffrey.

“Whoops.” He chuckled as the three of us stopped and turned.

Mateo jogged our way, his sleeveless shirt showing off his arms. His legs, even though covered with compression tights and athletic shorts, stood out. Long, thick, and powerful. Without realizing it, my body made steps toward him. He stopped, with only inches separating our bodies, and the heat coming off him felt like an inferno I’d be more than happy to burn in.

With a dimple exposing smile, he looked into me. Not at me,into me.His eyes pulled out every emotion, every bad memory, every insecurity, and cradled them with care.

“Hi.”

Such a simple greeting, but something unsaid lingered in his expression and made my heart stutter.

Even after sweating through practice, the smell of him absorbed me, and that sandalwood scent suddenly became my favorite.

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