“I better get going,” she says softly. “I’ll be at the Super Bowl, but in case I don’t see you before you’re on the field, good luck. Let’s try to do lunch soon.” She looks at me. “All of us.” And then she’s gone.
“I thought you said she was the wicked witch.” I wink at Nick.
“Good thing we’re writing our own story,” he volleys back.
Eighteen
Nick
We arrive in Denver, and it’s as cold here as it is in New York. Reed is bundled up in his car seat, and the media is waiting to bombard us. Olivia handles it well, smiling politely while ignoring the questions that are flung at her. She covers Reed’s car seat with a blanket and heads straight to the car while I stay back answering various questions. Reed’s face hasn’t been seen in public yet, but it’s only a matter of time. I’ve been approached by several magazines, but it’s not happening without Olivia’s consent. My publicist put out one of those cookie cutter public statements to let the world know Celeste and I feel we’re better as friends and our engagement has been called off. She also stated I’m Reed’s dad and that I’m asking for time while I get to know my son. Obviously, based on the amount of press here throwing questions my way, they ignored my request—not that I ever really thought they would listen.
The players usually take the team bus to the hotel to check in, but today I’m going with Olivia. The car service takes us to the Four Seasons, and then I have to leave Olivia and Reed to go to the stadium for our scheduled media day. I’m glad her stepmom and stepsister are both here so she won’t be alone. Not that she can’t take care of herself, but it makes me feel better to know she has other people around her.
Questions about my injury, the upcoming game, and my future are tossed at me for hours by reporter after reporter. When seven o’clock rolls around, I can’t get out of there fast enough. Tomorrow is the first day of practice, which means I need to rest up, but before I do, I’m going to spend some time with Olivia. The players are required to share rooms, and I always share with Killian. I was able to book Olivia a suite on another floor, and as much as I’d like to spend my free time there, I’m not going to make any assumptions. She did give me a keycard, though, so there’s that.
“Brown-Eyes, I’m—” I haven’t even finished my sentence when Olivia flies through the main room and covers my mouth with her hand.
“Shh…he’s finally asleep. I don’t know if babies can have jet lag, or if it’s the time difference, but he was so cranky tonight.”
She moves her hand from my mouth, and my eyes dart to her plump, pink lips. Damn, I want to taste her. Instead I give her a peck on her cheek. “Have you eaten? I was thinking we could order some room service and watch a movie or something.”
“Disney?” she teases.
“Funny.” I have Olivia order some food while I jump in the shower to rinse off. When I’m done, I return a call from my publicist and confirm a couple endorsement deals with my dad. He’s been rather quiet lately. Now that I think about it, both my parents have been. And neither of them have once asked about meeting their grandson. Not that I should be surprised. What could he possibly do for either of them?
When I come out, Olivia is dressed in tiny cotton shorts and a long sleeve Henley—sans bra. She’s closing the door and has a couple bags in her hands.
“Food’s here.” She places the bags on the table and grabs the boxes of food, bringing them to the coffee table so we can eat while we watch TV. I sit down before her and pull her between my legs on the couch. Her body is stiff at first, but she quickly relaxes her back into my front.
“Here.” She hands me my chicken sandwich. “I got a parfait. I ate a bigger meal earlier.” Grabbing the remote, she switches through the channels stopping on That 70’s show. “I love this show!” She throws the top of her parfait onto the table and takes a bite of her yogurt.
We eat and watch the show in comfortable silence. I’m starving, so my sandwich is gone in minutes. “Want some of my parfait?” she asks. “It’s the perfect sweet after your sandwich.”
She turns slightly and pushes the spoon toward my lips. I open wide, and she thrusts the yogurt into my mouth, the sweetness of the strawberries and vanilla yogurt hitting my taste buds. “Good?”
“Yeah.” I nod in agreement, swallowing my bite. She smiles before turning back around. We continue to watch the show, and every few minutes Olivia reaches back to give me a bite of her yogurt and fruit until it’s all gone. Once she places the empty cup on the table, she settles back farther into my hold. We’re in between sitting and laying down. Her head is resting on my shoulder and her ass is perfectly placed in front of my dick. My top leg parts her legs and my knee and thigh rest in between her thighs. I try to remember the last time I cuddled with a woman. Then I do remember; it was with Olivia on New Year’s Eve when we fell asleep, and before that…the night we hooked up.