Biker's Virgin
"It won't survive the trip down. Let me get you another one."
"Okay," I conceded, sighing. I was agreeable when I was tired. "How was practice?"
"Counting down the days to my first day off."
I touched his cheek. "Was it that bad?"
"No. I'm just away a lot. I don't like spending all this time apart, not right now when you just got here." I leaned in and kissed his forehead.
"I understand that you have to do it. One day, the tables will turn and you'll be the one waiting up for me."
"You weren't waiting up, you were asleep," he said, grinning.
"I should really get up," I said, not moving.
"What'll happen if you leave it on?" he asked. I thought about the breakouts I could look forward to having if I kept lying there and finally pushed myself up onto my elbows.
"Bad things," I sighed, pushing up to a sitting position. He got off the bed and stood in front of me, offering me his hand. I took it and let him pull me up. His hands held my hips and he trailed them up under my t-shirt. I raised my arms, letting him pull it off. "I don't need to take this off to wash my face," I said. He unhooked my bra behind my back with one hand.
"I know. I want you to take a shower with me," he said. He unbuttoned my shorts, and I let him. I pulled his shirt off, and we took turns till we were both naked. I ran a hand down his abs. Could we skip that shower and just jump into bed?
"Don't worry so much about me," I said, looking up at him. "I want to be here from you. I'm ready for whatever's going to happen." He kissed me gently.
"I know. I need to be, too," he sighed. "This time we're making it stick."
"Third time lucky," I said, smiling.
"I love you."
"I love you," I said back. Our lips met again. He kissed me deeply before hoisting
me up and walking us to the bathroom. He told me again as we made love in our huge multi-head shower, then again as we dozed in each other’s arms and fell asleep.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Roman
Six Months Later
35 to 31. It had been close. Almost too close, but we had taken it. Only just, but it was still a win. That last whistle and the roar from the crowd never got old. At some point, I figured looking up and seeing walls of people everywhere I turned would feel normal, but it hadn't yet.
I had asked Ron to sit in one of the private boxes but she hadn't. She had been right up close in one of the field seats. I liked that she could see me from where she was, even though the boxes were safer and more comfortable.
I was so distracted looking for her I almost missed the question the man with the mic in my face had asked. I looked at him, smiled, and said thank you. Safe answer for whatever he could have said. It must have been the right one, too, because he kept talking. I tried to look over his shoulder back at the crowd to see whether I could find Ron.
"Can we expect this for the rest of the season?" the guy asked. This had to be the most boring part of this job. Talking to the press. They were kind of our worst enemy, but coverage was good. Good coverage was the best. Lord knew how easy it was to get bad coverage.
"Absolutely," I told him, giving him my practiced interview smile. We all had to do it, but they didn't media train us the way they trained us for the games. If you could schmooze, people liked you more. You sold more jerseys, and that meant your management liked you more. All in a day's work. The guy thanked me and took his mic out of my face.
Finally. I scanned the crowd, looking for where Ron had sat. Every time I had tried to look over at her during the game, the cheerleaders had been in the way.
I finally saw her, hair up, wearing her Hurricanes jersey. I jogged over pulling her down onto the field, past the rope barricade. She jumped into my arms, hugging me.
“You did so good, baby,” she said.
“That’s right. And, I’m not done yet,” I shot back.
She laughed. She couldn’t make all the games, and I didn’t expect her to, but she was always in the crowd supporting me when she could be. She was cordial with some of the other girlfriends and wives that came to the games, but she wasn’t exactly being invited to brunches with them. Not really her scene. She was almost done with her senior year – she had other things on her plate.