CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

RILEY

I roll my shoulders and stretch my legs, pointing my toes until my limbs are loose and limber. The pillow smells like Walker, or it could be my dreams he invaded. My body is warm, as if I’d been cocooned by him all night.

I blink my eyes open and take in my surroundings; the off-white walls, the dark nightstand, the gray comforter. I roll to my side and see the wide span of the empty bed. Walker’s empty bed.

Last night plays back at fast forward speed. Watching the blood coat his face. Rushing to his apartment building. Getting kicked out of the lobby. Waiting for him outside the parking lot. Walker finding me asleep on the curb. Coming up to his apartment. Falling asleep in his arms.

I came here to take care of him, but he took care of me. I rub my eyes and fling back the covers to begin my search for him. It’s my first time in his apartment, but I don’t take the time to tour it. The bathroom off his bedroom is dark and quiet. The open door down the hall to the guest room shows that room is empty and unused, as is the guest bathroom.

I pad down the rest of the hallway to the open concept living room, dining room, and kitchen. He’s not here, but the smell of coffee permeates the air. I check out the kitchen and find a note next to the coffee maker.

Riley,

You looked so beautifully perfect in sleep, I didn’t want to wake you. I had to head to the team doctor to get my stitches checked out and finish my concussion protocol. Stay as long as you want. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen or the rest of the apartment.

Thank you for being there for me last night. It means more than you can possibly imagine.

See you soon.

Walker

He even drew a cute heart next to his name. I hold the note close to my chest and smile like a lovesick teenager. Glancing around the apartment, I take in the elegant but simplistic decor. It may cost a fortune, but it lacks personality.

I can’t imagine what kind of house Walker lived in in San Francisco, or what his style is. I’ve only seen him in fancy hotel rooms and now this pre-furnished upscale apartment. I fold his note and tuck it in my pocket.

It’s then that I look down at my outfit. “Holy shit. I look disgusting.” No wonder he didn’t try to make a move last night and took off this morning.

Spying the waiting coffee mug, I fill it and top it off with one of the fancy creamers in his fridge. While I sip my coffee, I take a leisurely stroll around the living space and stop in front of the windows, looking down on the city.

The sun shines high in the sky and people bustle about. I spot the clock mounted on the wall by the dining table and gasp.

“Twelve-fifteen?”

While waiting for Walker last night, I messaged the Pilates group chat to let my clients know I wouldn’t be able to make it to class, but Rhonda was kind enough to cover for me. I figured I’d be at work by eight though.

I chug the rest of my coffee, rinse the mug, and put it in the dishwasher. My keys are on the counter next to a pad of paper, so I scribble out a note, thanking him for the coffee and comfortable bed, and hurry out the door.

When the elevator opens to the lobby, the security officer stops me. “Ms. Riley?”

I pause and stare at him wide-eyed. These guys are either really good at their job or freaky stalkers.

“Um. Yes?”

“Mr. Bankes asked us to deliver this to you upon your departure.” He hands me an envelope.

“Oh. Thank you.” I give him a quick smile and scurry out the door, jogging to the parking garage.

The incredible night sleep, and seeing Walker, is worth the forty-five-dollar parking charge. Once home, I take a record-breaking fast shower, twirl my hair in a wet bun, and grab my closest pair of clean leggings and a Boston Strong T-shirt. The early fall days are unpredictable and I don’t have time to check the forecast, so I grab a zip up hoodie just in case and am out the door ten minutes later.

“Hey, Julie,” I huff as I push through the doors to Boston Strong. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I overslept and—”

“No need to apologize, Riley. We figured you’d be up watching the game and Rhonda covered your class.”

I haven’t talked about my relationship with Walker, not that I could explain it to my staff anyway. I keep my private life private, but it’s been hard to do when my staff trips over themselves whenever he comes by.

And after the media attention last week, there’s no hiding that there’s some kind of relationship going on between us.

“Did she have a good turn out?” I ask, not confirming or denying her assumption.

“Yeah, but that’s not what has us flipping out today.”

Kyle comes bouncing over to us, his smile showing off the expensive set of veneers he invested in last year. “There she is. America’s sweetheart.”

I scrunch my forehead at him. “Excuse me?”

“Babe. You’re all over the internet. We’re all over the internet. Your boy toy put us on the map.”

Ignoring his Babe comment, I ask Julie. “What’s he talking about?”

I’m not ignorant of social media, but I don’t spend much time online unless I’m doing research.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the reposts?” Julie takes out her phone and opens her TikTok account.

I stare in amazement at all the Walker Bankes posts and videos. Most start with a montage of pictures that I’d like to spend more time drooling over, and then cut to him standing on the stage at the start of the 5K. Most of the audio is voiced over with music, but there are clips of him with his hand around my waist. Someone caught us earlier in the day when we literally ran into each other.

And there are other shots of us from some of our dates before I even knew who he was. Apparently, he had fans in Boston—or paparazzi—who had been snapping pictures of him, and us.

Julie scrolls over to two other social media platforms that show more clips of Boston Strong. “Look at all the media coverage. And Declan Anderson even gave us a shout out on his social media. Some of those posts have gone viral as well. We’ve all been sucked in between finding the viral posts about the foundation and doing some creeping on our boss and her hot boyfriend.”

“I didn’t realize you two were serious,” Kyle says from over my shoulder.

I hand Julie back her phone. “I’m going to head up to my office and catch up on paperwork.”

“You got a big shipment today. I wasn’t sure what it was since nothing was on the schedule to come in this week, so I had them put them in your office. I hope that’s okay.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

Despite the eight hours of sleep I got in Walker’s comfortable bed, my legs and body are tired. And my stomach reminds me I forgot to eat. When I open the door to my office, I freeze in the doorway. Julie wasn’t kidding about a big shipment. Ten boxes are stacked on top of each other and I can’t even find the conference table.

I pick up the large envelope resting on top, slide out a stack of papers, and begin reading.

“Holy fucking shit.”

Tears flood my eyes as I continue to read through the four-page document. When I get to the last piece of paper, a check, my heart is racing so fast I’m afraid I’m going to pass out. I drop to the floor and stare at the documents in front of me.

I have no idea how long I sit in stunned silence before I snap out of it and tear open the boxes. Hundreds of sneakers, and more athletic wear than I immediately know what to do with. All donated for the kids.

I drop to my desk chair and stare out at the thousands of dollars of donated items and pick up the check again. My hands shake as I reach for my phone and start dialing Walker. Before I press send, I drop my phone.

He’s busy doing his football stuff, but I can’t wait to share this news with him. It dawns on me that it isn’t Jackson or Kendall or Rowan that I thought of first, but Walker. Granted, I’m sure I received this more-than-generous donation because of his influence, but still.

It’s Walker I want to celebrate with. It’s Walker I want to spend time with. It’s Walker I want to wake up with every morning and go to bed with every night. It’s Walker who has my heart.

Not wanting to interrupt his day or share this news over the phone, I send him a quick text.

ME: Thank you for letting me sleep in. And for the coffee. I hope you’re feeling better and don’t have to work too hard today.

I contemplate asking him about his dinner plans, but he must be exhausted after playing a late game and not getting much sleep last night. It’s selfish of me to take up his time. Three dots appear and a minute later, a text pops up.

WALKER: Hurt like hell leaving you in bed this morning. Easy day in the office. They’re letting us out at six tonight so they can beat the hell out of us tomorrow. *wink emoji*

We still need to talk about us but not when we’re rushed and when he needs to focus on healing and his game. I do want to share my news with him though. And thank him for caring for me when my intent had been to care for him.

Nibbling my lip, I like the idea of surprising him and doing something nice for him. I pocket my phone, scan my office that’s once again in shambles—in the best of ways—and head out.

With only an hour until Walker will be on his way, I don’t have time to go back to my place and make myself more presentable. I rush to the closest market and purchase ingredients for dinner. Twenty minutes later, I’m using the key he left for me and helping myself into his apartment.

Since I’m not familiar with his kitchen and where everything is, it takes me longer than it should to gather dishes and find a lasagna pan. Once I season the meat and sauce and layer the noodles with my cheese mixture, I cover it with foil and set it in the oven.

Depending on traffic, and there’s always traffic at six o’clock in Boston, I don’t expect him home for another thirty minutes. That gives me enough time to make the salad and garlic bread, then set the dining room table.

The candles in the middle are new and I don’t see any evidence that he’s ever lit a candle in his apartment before, but I find a lighter and two more candles in the nearly empty bookshelves. When I have everything set up, I step back and take in my quick work.

The dim lighting and dancing of the small firelight from the candles adds a romantic ambiance. But what if I’ve overstepped? Hell, the first time I ever stepped foot in Walker’s apartment was this morning, and I’d invited myself. Giving me a key was a nice gesture, but did he mean for me to help myself to his apartment whenever I wanted, or was it more so I wouldn’t have to wait outside when we had a planned date?

It’s too late to turn back now. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I take it out, reading the text.

WALKER: Have you had dinner yet?

ME: Not exactly.

WALKER: Can I take you out?

ME: I already have plans.

I chuckle at my response, then immediately second guess myself. What if he decides to go out with his teammates or picks something up along the way? I check the time again. It’s six forty-five. He should be here any second unless he was on his way to my apartment or to Boston Strong.

The lock on the front door clicks and I hear him before I see him.

“Fuck me. I want to be your plans,” he grumbles as he steps inside.

“You are my plans.” I bite down on the corner of my bottom lip and fold my hands nervously in front of me.

“Riley?” He kicks the door closed behind him and drops his duffle bag, crossing the living room in four long strides. “What are you doing here?”

I lift a shoulder. “The key. Um.” I worry my hands together and glance at our feet. “I’m sorry if I crossed the line. I wanted to surprise you with dinner.”

Walker tips my chin with the back of his fingers. “There are no lines when it comes to you, Riley.”

I blink up at him and give him a shy smile. “I thought you’d be too tired to go out.” I stroke the bandage that’s a little smaller than the one he wore this morning. “And I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“You being here is something nice. You didn’t have to make me dinner, but it smells fucking delicious.”

“It will be ready in about twenty minutes.”

“Perfect.” He moves closer and threads his fingers through mine. “Last night, or hell, I guess it was this morning, you said you wanted to talk about us.”

“I don’t know if now is a good time.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Because of your injury. And you didn’t get much sleep. And you have a long day of practice tomorrow.”

“It’s a small cut. I slept like a fucking baby with you in my bed. And I always have a long day of practice. None of those are reasons why we can’t talk.”

I lick my lips and his eyes close into slits as he curses and pulls me into his hard body.

Hard body. Soft heart. I’m a goner.

“I, um. I had a long talk with Kendall the other day and she gave me some advice.”

“This doesn’t sound good.”

I chuckle and squeeze his hand. “To be fair. She’s the one who encouraged me to go back to your hotel room in Rhode Island.”

“Recanting. Kendall is a goddess of advice. What did she tell you this time? To surprise me in my apartment?” He brings our joined hands to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. “While I love the surprise, I’m only happy about it if you want to be here.”

“This was my idea.”

“I’m glad. So what’s this advice your best friend gave you?”

“In a nutshell, she reminded me how stupid I’m being for overthinking everything and not following my...heart.”

“For the record, I’d rather have you overthink than make a decision you’ll regret.” Walker releases my hands and places them on his shoulders and squeezes my hips. “Can I ask where your heart is leading you?”

Damn, his stormy gray eyes are heated with lust, and I’m the luckiest girl on the planet to be on the receiving end. I curl my fingers around the back of his neck and lift up on my toes so our mouths are only a breath apart.

“Here,” I whisper across his lips as anticipation builds and my heart quickens with a blend of excitement and nervousness.

“Damn.” Walker slams his mouth down on mine.

I’m flooded with a whirlwind of sensations and emotions. An explosion of feelings seeps into my soul. There’s a rush of tenderness as Walker’s hands frame my face, and the softness of his touch, coupled with the fervor of the kiss, sends shivers down my spine, leaving me feeling both vulnerable and empowered.

The world outside, all my doubts, my insecurities, my worries, fade into insignificance. The connection between us is so deep, not just through the touching of our lips and mating of our tongues, but through the emotions exchanged in our intimate embrace. His touch awakens a cascade of emotions within. A longing, desire, and an overwhelming sense of being cherished.

This is what Walker does to me.

The intensity of our kiss speaks volumes, hopefully communicating a language of love and desire without the need for words. Time seems to halt, allowing me to savor every sensation, every heartbeat, every shared breath.

Either my ears are ringing from the intensity of the kiss, or there’s a beeping in the background. The lasagna.

I pull back and rest my forehead against his. I’m breathless, my mind reeling with the sheer intensity of the kiss. It leaves me yearning for more yet feeling content in the depth of our connection.

“Do you need to get that?” Walker asks, and I smile when he sounds as breathless as I feel.

“Unless you want burned lasagna.”

“It would be worth it.” I giggle and he kisses the tip of my nose. “But I don’t want all the hard work you put into making dinner to go to waste. And I’m starving.” He gives my butt a light slap.

“Go wash up. The lasagna needs to rest for at least fifteen minutes anyway.”

“Perfect. It gives me just enough time to have dessert.” He follows me to the kitchen, and after he’s washed his hands and I’ve set the cooling lasagna on the counter, he gives me a devilish smirk.

“We’re starting with salad while it rests.”

Walker plucks the hot mitts off my hands and tosses them on the counter. Shaking his head, he drops to his knees in front of me and tugs on my leggings. “Dessert first.”

“Walker!”

He strips me of my bottoms, then stands and flips me over his shoulder.

“I thought you were hungry.” I can’t contain my giggle as he carries me to the living room and plops me on the couch.

“Starved.” He kneels on either side of my hips and lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me deeply. “I’ve missed you so fucking much. Tell me it’s too soon, that you’re not there yet, and I’ll stop. But I need to taste you. All of you.”

Oh, hell. I’m so wet I’m sure there’s a puddle on the white sofa under me. I nod and he growls as he kisses me again while his hands work their way up my shirt. I’m glad I took my hoodie off while I was making dinner. One less barrier between us.

When I reach for the waistband of his joggers, he pushes my hands away.

“Not yet, baby. This is about you.”

“What about what I want?”

Walker lifts his head from my neck and grins down at me. “You can have that later.”

Nope. No way. I’ve denied him enough these past few months. It’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine.

“That doesn’t seem fair to you.”

“Trust me, Riley. Feasting on your pussy is as much of a treat for me as it is for you. You’re not denying me anything.”

I push at his chest when he tries to kiss my breasts. “Same.”

He lifts his head and quirks a brow. “Same?”

“I want your cock in my mouth while you feast on me.” We’ve done a lot of things, been in almost every sexual position, but I’ve never talked dirty to him, and we’ve never done sixty-nine.

“Fucking Christ, woman.” Walker scoops me up and I wrap my legs around his hips as he carries me to his bedroom.

As soon as he sets me on the bed, I drop to my knees and remove his pants as he did mine in the kitchen. “Shirt off too. I want to lick your abs.”

“Holy fuck, Riley. I’m going to get off before you even touch me if you keep talking like that.”

“That’s right. You’re built for speed. Tonight, I’m hungry too. Wanna race to the finish line?”

He cups my face and kisses me and his naked erection pokes into my stomach. “I want to savor you all fucking night, Riley.”

I’m breathless, horny, and need him desperately. I can feel my wetness dripping down my inner thighs. “Can I take a raincheck for savory? Like you said, dessert first.” I lower my hand and squeeze his thick erection.

“Fuck.”

Walker picks me up and tosses me on the bed, then lays flat on his back next to me. “Sit on my face, baby. I need you so fucking badly.”

I’ve never been in this position before, and Walker must be able to read my hesitation.

“Come here.” He loops his fingers around my wrist and pulls me over his body and kisses me. “Am I scaring you? Is this too much?”

“No and no. I’m desperate for you, Walker. I’ve just...I kinda got worked up in the heat of the moment. I’ve never, um...”

“Sat on my face?” He cocks a teasing grin.

He’s gone down on me before, but I was lying flat. Sitting on him seems like it would be awkward. “What if I suffocate you?”

He chuckles. “Hands down, best way to go.”

I tilt my head and roll my eyes. “Not funny.”

He does a poor job of hiding his laugh and rolls us so I’m on my back and he’s on top. “This better?” When he starts to slide down my body, stopping to suck a nipple into his mouth, I grip his shoulders.

“I want to please you too, Walker.”

“Trust me, Riley. You are.”

“Can you, um, turn around so I can...”

“I don’t want to choke you. You’ll have more control if you’re on top.”

“I trust you.”

“Fuck.” He sucks my nipple hard, then moves to the other one, gently nipping it before coming back to my mouth and kissing me on the lips. “Tell me if it’s too much. But it’s not going to take long.”

He glides his tongue across my bottom lip and leaves a trail of kisses down my sternum, diving his tongue into my belly button.

When Walker drapes his legs over mine and lowers his mouth to my mound, I reach up and cup his balls. His erection is thick and long and pointing in the wrong direction. I see why he wanted me to go on top. It’s a bit awkward at this angle, but all coherent thoughts leave my mind as he sticks his tongue inside me.

“Walker.” I grip the sheets on either side of me, forgetting about his package hanging above my face.

My hips lift to his mouth on their own, and I’m so close already, but I want him in my mouth.

“Wait. Stop.” I gasp, and surprisingly, he does.

No. Not surprisingly. Walker is true to his word.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

He leaps off me and spins around, stroking my hair. “Too much? Too soon?”

“No.” I shake my head. I feel my cheeks warm. “I couldn’t...you’re kind of pointing in the wrong direction.”

“Baby.” He lowers his forehead to mine and I feel his body take long, deep breaths. His back is slicked with sweat and we’ve barely done anything yet. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

His kiss is soft and gentle.

“I want to try what you suggested. On top.”

“For the record, because this is going to be fucking fast, you’re getting at least three more orgasms tonight.”

“Promise?”