She’d break the story soon.
I would continue training in Cottonwood Cove until preseason started and we were expected to report for training camp.
I was grateful for this quiet time away from it all.
“Good meeting, brother. I’m happy for you,” Drew said as we pulled up at the hangar to drop him off. He was flying home because his son had a tennis match in the morning that he didn’t want to miss.
Brinkley and I would be staying in New York and meeting up with Brett and Lenny and a few other guys from the team.
I jumped out of the car and clapped him on the shoulder, just as Brinkley stepped out of the car, surprising us both.
“It was great to meet you, Drew.” She smiled and extended her hand. “I’m glad he has you looking out for him.”
“I feel the same way, boss lady. That was badass what you did earlier. Keep looking out for my boy, okay?” Drew shook her hand and wrapped his other hand around the outside of hers and nodded. “Can’t wait to read your story. It’s about time someone did this man justice.”
“Don’t get all sappy. Get home to your family. Thanks for being here,” I said, as he held his hand up and waved and walked toward the plane.
“I like him,” she said, bumping me with her shoulder.
“Yeah. He’s a good guy.” I opened the back door and guided her inside.
“We’re meeting with your friends tonight? Are you sure you’re okay with me going? I can stay at the hotel and order room service if you want some time alone,” she said.
But I didn’t. I wanted her there.
“No. It’ll be fun. You’ll love them. If they hit on you, just tell them to fuck off.” I chuckled.
She rolled her eyes and then groaned when we pulled up to the hotel and she noticed the cameramen lined up out front.
“Fuck,” I hissed as I called the hotel from my phone.
I let them know that there was an issue, and they said that they’d phoned the police and were trying to get them removed. They told me to head around the back of the hotel, so the car pulled away from the curb and made its way around the block to the door at the back of the building.
Security was there to greet us, and they hurried us inside and onto the staff elevator.
Brinkley was quiet the entire time, and I thanked the two men for the escort once we arrived at our floor and stepped off the elevator.
“You okay?” I asked as we made our way down the hallway to the two suites at the end.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” She turned around and leaned against her door. “I didn’t know how bad it was, Lincoln. I’m sorry for following you into the bathroom that day.”
Her dark eyes looked so empathetic it nearly brought me to my knees.
But now, I had thoughts of dropping to my knees and burying my face between her thighs.
Touching her.
Tasting her.
My cock swelled, straining against my zipper.
What the fuck was happening to me?
I was a man who prided himself on control.
It was time to rein it in.
“Don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” I backed away from her and slipped the key into my door. “I’ll see you in an hour.”
She held her hand up and nodded. “I’ll be ready.”
And fuck me if I didn’t want to pull her into my room.
Have my way with her.
Make her feel good.
But instead, I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the coldest shower possible.
This was step one of reining it in.
But I’d allow myself one more time to fantasize about her before I shut off all those feelings.
I’d just made a huge decision for my career.
I should be thinking about my future with the Thunderbirds, not the sexy reporter next door.
thirteen
Brinkley
I was probably the luckiest woman on the planet at the moment. We’d been taken to a private room at the hotel restaurant, and I was seated at a table with some of the best players in the NFL.
Lincoln sat beside me, and Brett Jacobs was on the other side of me. Lenny Waters sat directly across from me. Pete Garner, the Thunderbirds kicker who also happened to be the best kicker in the league, sat next to him, and Terry Langley, one of the best linemen in the league, was seated at the head of the table.
We’d laughed and talked, and they’d grilled me about how I had gotten Lincoln to hire me to tell his story. Everyone knew the man was tightlipped and guarded his privacy fiercely.
I’d held my own, telling them about his training, and they razzed him about me racing him on our runs most days. I’d only had a few bites to eat because my stomach had felt a little off since I’d had lunch at the café near the offices while Lincoln was at his meeting.
I hoped I wasn’t coming down with anything, but I was doing everything in my power to push it away.
“You didn’t eat much. Are you okay?” Lincoln leaned close to my ear and whispered. His lips grazed my skin, and chills ran down my back.
I glanced around to see everyone deep in conversation.
“Yeah. Just feeling a little off.” I shrugged like it was no big deal. His gaze was laced with concern as he studied me.
“You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine,” I said, forcing myself to look back at the guys who had just finished another round of cocktails.
I’d passed on the alcoholic beverages, and I was grateful because I was feeling queasy, and any amount of booze would probably have me hurling right now.
The bill came, and Lincoln quickly signed it, letting the guys know he was calling it a night. Everyone got to their feet, and each one of these large men took turns picking me up off the floor and hugging me goodbye.
Brett spun me around, and I thought I was going to vomit, but I did my best to hide it and chuckled.
We waved our goodbyes and headed toward the elevator.
I was sweating profusely now, and I tucked my lips between my teeth and breathed in slowly through my nose.
Lincoln closed the space between us. “You’re definitely sick, sweetheart.”
“I think I might have food poisoning. I haven’t felt right since I ate that sandwich at the café.” I bent over my knees and groaned. My stomach was cramping, and I couldn’t stand up straight any longer.
He bent down in front of me. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
His hand moved to my back, making little circles and soothing me in a way I didn’t even know would be comforting.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I said, fighting the tears that were threatening to fall.
This was so embarrassing.
“If you need to be sick, just let it out.”
“I can’t puke in the elevator or the hallway,” I said, feeling panicked.
“I’ll get it professionally cleaned. Don’t worry about it.”
The elevator was taking forever. Of course, we had to be on the top floor. I crouched down when the cramp hit me so severely that I couldn’t stand up.
When the doors opened, I looked up, unsure how I was going to move. Lincoln’s hands moved beneath my thighs and around my neck, and he scooped me up effortlessly. I buried my face in his neck and breathed him in. Turns out, pine and sandalwood were my favorite anti-nausea medicine. At least for the brief few seconds, until the next bout hit me like a tidal wave.