A sour taste rises at the back of my throat. I’m done playing games and sneaking around. I may not be ready for our time together to end, but I’m done lying. He’s got another thing coming if he thinks I’m going to fake date him to appease the news outlets or Coach or even my mom.
The Collegian article is proof of how quickly things can get out of hand.
I can’t hear my mom’s reply, but Austin’s smile is answer enough. Clearly he’s won her over with his charm. Un-freaking-believable. I get twenty-one years of lectures on douchey football players, and he’s got her wrapped around his finger in five minutes flat.
Clearly I need to meet this Joseph guy because this is not the same woman who raised me. I drop onto the arm of the couch, stewing.
They chat for a few more minutes, and I listen impatiently as Austin tells her more about himself and his upbringing. When they finally disconnect, I stare at him openmouthed.
My own mother didn’t say goodbye to me. What the hell? More importantly, what did she say to him?
“That went well,” he says, handing me the phone, cocky grin securely in place. His fingers brush mine, and it’s a small miracle I manage to ignore the flutter of excitement that races up my arm, settling in my belly.
“What the hell are you doing?” I demand, hopping to my feet. “Asking for my mom’s blessing to date me?”
“I meant every word of it.” He slips an arm around my waist, pulling me close so my body is flush with his. “I want to take you on a real date. Prove to you not all football players are assholes. If you’ll let me.”
“You don’t have anything to prove to me.” I’m already convinced, but he doesn’t need to know that. “And you don’t have to take me on a date to, I don’t know, make things right with everyone else. I’m a big girl. I chose this. Same as you. I can handle the fallout, whatever it may be.”
“That didn’t come out right. I’m messing this up.” He releases his grip on me and scrubs a hand over his face. His large body shifts, and I can almost see the nervous energy coursing through his limbs, forcing him into motion. “I don’t have much experience with relationships, and I’ll probably screw up a lot, but I’m asking you out because I want to. I enjoy spending time with you and talking to you, and hell, when you’re not around, all I can think about is you. You make me crazy in the best way. And I think we should go on a date. Together,” he adds, as if there could be any confusion on that point.
A relationship with Austin? I’d never let myself consider the possibility before. That wasn’t the deal. But as I look at him, at the hope in his beautiful eyes, I can’t deny I want it too. A chance to see where things go. To see if maybe the chemistry we share in the bedroom could be a foundation for something more.
“What about the team?” I ask. “Nothing’s changed with Coach or the guys.”
“We’ll figure it out.” He grips my hip with his right hand, tugging me close. His erection is pressed to my stomach, and my body reacts in kind, desire curling low in my belly. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” He leans down and kisses me, slow and deep, our tongues mating in a languid dance. It’s nothing like the frenzied kisses that fueled our hookups, but it has the same smoldering heat. I pour myself into the kiss, enjoying the feel of his soft lips on mine. When he pulls away, disbelief rears its ugly head again. “I can’t believe my mom is okay with this.”
“‘Okay’ might be overstating things a bit.” He laughs, low and husky, the sound reverberating through my body and sending shivers down my spine. “I’ve met some overprotective dads, but they’ve got nothing on your mom. She said she’ll neuter me if I break your heart.”
I lean in to kiss him again, pausing when our lips are a breath apart. “So don’t break my heart.”
Chapter Twenty
Austin
Getting up at the ass crack of dawn to grovel wasn’t exactly on my bucket list, but fuck, sometimes you have to man up. No way was I going to let Kennedy face Coach until I’d smoothed things over. Not because I don’t think she can handle herself, but because that smart mouth of hers would probably get her benched and we need her for this week’s game against Indiana.
Me? I’m a pro when it comes to enduring Coach’s tirades. The key is to stay quiet, show the appropriate amount of contrition, and not make the same mistake twice.
So, yeah. I came. I saw. I groveled.
Coach was pissed when he saw the article. Asked me if I was a damn moron, which I guess was fair since he’d expressly forbidden team hookups. The thing is, Coach wants to win and he’s not stupid. We may have broken his rules, but we didn’t violate NCAA rules and no way in hell are the boosters or the university going to want to see their top players benched for something as trivial as dating.
It’s like I told Kennedy. Coach’s bark is worse than his bite. Under all that bluster, the man’s really a big old teddy bear.
Coach’s punishment? I’ve got to apologize to the team this morning, and it’ll be up to them to decide what repercussions, if any, I face. Should be a lively discussion. I doubt the guys will bench me—they want a national title as badly as I do—but they’re sure as shit going to make me sweat it.
Fine by me. I know how to take my lumps. Besides, I deserve whatever they throw at me.
Now I’ve got an hour to kill before the team hits the road. Normally, I’d enjoy having the locker
