“Welcome it,” he replies nonchalantly.
Bryce tries to hide his smirk but fails. I grab Quinn’s arm, leading her out of the house before she blows a gasket. Her whole body is tense, the vein in her neck ticking. Once we get into my car, I brace for the impact.
“He’s fucking crazy! He’s on the sidelines today with Bryce.”
“That’s what has you in a tizzy?” I question her.
“That and the fact that he went into my email, introduced himself to my team, and invited them all to brunch tomorrow. He sweet-talked everyone, telling them how proud he was for our success and saying he wanted to treat us to a nice meal.”
“He went into your email?”
“I left my computer open when I took a shower last night. That is not the point. He’s doing this so he can meet Hank. Is this not the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever heard of?”
“I think you may be overreacting. Dean’s very charming, and he probably genuinely wants to meet your friends.”
Her head spins toward me with a look of horror. She reaches to feel my forehead and then pinches my arm hard.
“What the fuck?” I slap at her hand.
“Are you sick?”
“No! I’m trying to be a voice of reason. Who cares if he meets them? You’ve met his friends. It’s pretty common for couples to introduce each other to the people they spend time with, especially in our situations—long distance relationships, traveling abroad, etc. I’d chill if I were you.”
Her lips split into a scary grin. “Okay, Devon, I’ll chill. Let’s pick up this conversation in a few hours.”
We pull up to our group meeting spot and luckily find a place to park so I don’t have to drop her off. Our coach splits the groups up, and we make our way around campus for meet-and-greets and pictures.
Two hours later, we meet back at the authorized entrance to the field, and I’m surprised to see Bryce leaning casually against the brick wall. The minute our eyes lock, my skin tingles. His gaze rakes up and down my body, and I literally feel him undressing me.
A hand grazes my arm as Jeremy, my cheer partner, tries to help me with my bag. In less than two seconds, Bryce is taking it out of my hand and tugging me into him possessively.
“Bryce Randolph, Devon’s fiancé.” He extends his hand.
Jeremy looks between the two of us and then surprises me by throwing his head back and roaring in laughter. He shoves his hand in Bryce’s. “Jeremy Silver, Devon’s partner.” He continues to chuckle.
“Did I miss something?” I try to think of what’s funny. They ignore me, still holding hands.
Bryce’s eyes narrow at Jeremy, then his face splits into a wide smile. “Guess you’re not surprised?”
“Surprised why it took so long. We’ve been practicing for weeks.”
“I wasn’t able to get here until now.”
“Nice to meet ya, man.” Jeremy drops his hand and slaps him on the shoulder. “And you have nothing to worry about. I prefer a certain redhead.” His eyes slice to Roxy, who is currently rummaging through her bag.
“Got it. Glad to know.”
“Hello.” I wave my hand in front of both their faces. “Can we recap this conversation in normal, human being language?”
“Devon, I don’t pay attention to all the gossip, but apparently, you had a grand proposal that had all the girls going ga-ga. News travels fast, especially with this group. I figured, sooner or later, he’d want to meet me,” Jeremy tells me matter-of-factly.
“Oh, okay, but did you just tell us you’re interested in Roxy?”
The guys exchange a look and shake their heads. “I told your fiancé he didn’t have anything to worry about because my sights are set elsewhere. Take it as you will.” Jeremy gives a chin lift and walks into the facility.
“What are the rules about public displays of affection in your uniform?” Bryce nibbles on my earlobe. “I’d really like to hike your skirt up and wrap your legs around me right now. Feel your body plastered against mine while I kiss you hard enough for everyone here to know who you belong to. If I could get away with it, I’d slide my fingers directly into you and make you scream my name.”
My knees go weak, and I grip his arm for support. Beads of sweat trickle down my neck and back, the heat of his words scorching me. “Stop,” I whisper unconvincingly.