She was currently sitting with Will, the two of them laughing and watching Carter try not to pop a boner with three half-naked women in his lap. But as if she could sense me watching her, she smoothed her hair back over her shoulder and glanced over it.
Our eyes connected, my heart jolting, and she offered me a small smile that I responded to with a wink. She flushed a little when she looked down at where her fingertips daintily held the stem of a martini glass, and then Will was saying something to her, and she turned her attention back to him.
Jaxson pinned me with a shit-eating grin when I turned back toward him.
“What?”
“Don’t what me, you lovesick bastard.”
I took a swig from my beer.
Jaxson angled himself toward me, elbow on the table. “Is that silence admission or denial?”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, so neither.”
He snorted. “Sure. Okay, so, you’re telling me there’s nothing going on between you and Maven?”
It took all the effort I had to keep my eyes on the stage. “What do you think?”
“I think she showed up at your door about ten days ago when you were throwing your pity party the night before the New York game, I told her you were at the gym, and that both of you seemed very tired the next day.”
“It was a long week.”
Jaxson poked me in the chest when I wouldn’t look at him. “Bullshit.”
I clenched my jaw, fighting back the urge to tell him anything. Maven had made it more than clear that she didn’t want anyone to know.
It had been killing me, the last week and a half of being around her after knowing what it was like to be inside her. I was exhausted at the end of every day, and not from practice, but from the effort it took to keep my hands off her, to respect her wishes, to be as close to normal as I could after knowing what her pussy tasted like.
Every time I pumped myself in the shower, I heard her moans, saw her body arched in the mirror, felt her cunt swallowing me whole. I was convinced I’d never have an orgasm again in my life where I didn’t think back to that night.
And every time our skin brushed by accident, I felt it — the electricity that charged that entire night. I knew she felt it, too.
But she was still fighting it.
And that hurt worse than the cut healing on my cheek.
I took an aggressive swig of my beer, blowing out a breath through my nose like a bull.
I still believed what I’d said to her that night — that there was no way in hell that was a one-time thing.
But Maven was one stubborn girl, and my patience was being tested.
“Alright,” Jaxson said when I didn’t indulge him. “So, if there’s nothing going on between you two, then I guess you won’t mind if I shoot my shot?”
Ice pricked my veins.
I turned toward him, slowly, my eyes menacing when I met his goading grin.
“What?” He feigned innocence, already sliding out of the booth. “I’m just being a good friend. Had to check and make sure you were cool with it, that there wasn’t anything there, and I guess there’s not, so…”
“Brittzy,” I warned, shooting daggers at him when he stood and smoothed a hand over the seam of his button down.
He ignored me, staring at where Maven was with Will. She tossed her head back on a laugh, and he blew out a low whistle.
“She’s such a fucking smoke show, man.” He sucked his teeth then, socking me in the arm. “Wish me luck.”
My hand involuntarily crushed the beer can I was holding, what was left of the IPA squeezing out onto the table. I thought I heard Jaxson laugh, but he didn’t stop. He strode right over to her table and sat down, making it so Maven had no choice but to scoot closer to Will.
And there she was, sandwiched between two of my teammates.
Jaxson threw his arm over the back of the booth, and consequently over her. He leaned in, too fucking close, his lips by her ear as he said something that made her smile and roll her eyes.
But she didn’t pull away.
She didn’t excuse herself, didn’t push him out of the booth, didn’t so much as glance in my direction. She leaned into him, into whatever he was saying to her, playing with her hair and laughing like those laughs weren’t supposed to be reserved for me.
I nearly broke a tooth watching it, and then Carter was flopping down next to me with a goofy grin. He slid me a shot, holding out a lime to go with it.
“You look like you need this.”
I didn’t answer him.
But I threw it back, letting it sting almost as much as watching Maven.
As the liquor burned my chest, I allowed myself one last glance at her.
Then, I cracked my neck and felt a new resolve settle into my bloodstream just like the alcohol had.
Maven was mine. She knew it as much as I did. But she was hell bent on pretending otherwise.
Fine.
Two could play that game.
Told You So
Maven
Somewhere around midnight, the rookie party wrapped up and the strip club opened its doors to other patrons.
I didn’t notice at first. One second, Carter was on stage being hazed while I got to know Will Perry more. The next, I was sandwiched between him and Jaxson Brittain as the crowd thickened around us, and it went from easy to hear the two of them to damn near impossible.
The strippers took the stage, customers crowding the front row just as much as they packed the VIP tables in the back. Go-go dancers jumped up on the bar, and the lights flashed to the beat the DJ was spinning. People talked and laughed and whistled and yelled, all of them fighting to be louder than the music — which was a feat.
Even with his mouth right by my ear, I had to make Jaxson repeat himself at least twice when he tried to keep our conversation going. He’d been telling me ridiculous stories for the past hour, mostly about the shenanigans he and Vince got into during the preseason.
At about half-past midnight, I excused myself to the restroom, laughing at my reflection when a yawn stretched my mouth wide. I was ready to call it a night.
I searched the packed club for Vince. I didn’t know why, really, but I felt like I should tell him I was heading out. It wasn’t like I’d post any of the content that would be captured after this point, anyway, and the team was getting a little too rowdy for my tastes.
I smiled a little as I recalled how carefree he’d seemed all night. I sat next to him at the rookie dinner, our knees brushing under the table, my heart pounding in my chest every time I glanced at where his massive hands held his cocktail. I couldn’t look at those hands without remembering what they did to me, and that was a very bad image to conjure up in a fancy restaurant — especially when I was wearing a dress with only a thong on underneath it.
When we’d arrived at the club in a collection of limousines, I’d thoroughly enjoyed watching him get dragged on stage to be hazed.
I loved that he was laughing, that he was having fun.
I also loved that every time I looked at him across that club, he was looking at me, too.
I internally scolded myself as my neck heated with that thought.
His cut was healing already, the bandages removed, but the bruising, tender flesh reminded me of our night together in Atlanta. It had felt a little too intimate, him opening up to me the way he had. I was thankful Reya had texted me and interrupted us before I could lose myself too much.