Chapter 10

TEN

The Blaze locker room was bumping following their dominating win that Thursday night.

"Hell of a game in front of a national TV audience, fellas." The Blaze head coach commended his team while pacing up and down the center of the room, his players and assistant coaches forming an oval around him. "Give it up for our defense! They played lights out football, holding them to only three points." He tossed a ball to the defensive captain. "You guys were beasts. Everyone on the D gets a game ball."

A chorus of whoops and cheers echoed throughout the room. Noah clapped along with his teammates. He'd had a great game, but the defense took it to another level tonight. They were the stars of the show.

One of the position coaches tossed Coach another ball. "And let's not forget about our offense. They played precision football, putting thirty-four points on the board with no turnovers and not a single dropped pass." Coach turned toward Noah. "Excellent job navigating through their tough defense, Hudson."

A wolf whistle rang out.

"He was on his game tonight because his woman was in the stadium," someone shouted.

Christ.

Noah ground his back teeth together. He'd had no idea Charlotte was back in Baltimore. Not until he saw her on the Jumbotron after his second touchdown pass. The crowd had roared with delight as she clapped and high-fived everyone in the owner's suite. The sight of her jubilant smile made the breath hang up in his lungs for several heartbeats. Until he realized she wasn't here for him. She was like any other Blaze fan, cheering for her brother's team. Plain and simple. Social media, his teammates, the fans may think otherwise, but Noah knew the truth.

And, dammit, he hated that truth. His jaw clenched when several of his teammates chimed in with their own ridiculous comments.

"She's our lucky charm," one guy called out.

"Yeah, Huddy, we're two and O when the boss' sister shows up to cheer you on. Whatever you do, don't do her wrong. I want a championship ring again," the team's center added, and the rest of the locker room hooted in agreement.

Coach's smile was chagrined. "Okay, knock it off. We won today because we played to our potential. We do that every time we take the field, and we'll be in that championship game, no problem." He glanced around the room. "Now, where's Taylor? He scored ten of our points with his kicking foot today. He gets this game ball for not losing his mojo after last week."

Taylor stepped forward to receive his ball. "Thanks to the Trulies for keeping the fans from running me out of town," he quipped.

"That's what I'm talking ‘bout! Princess Charlotte brings the good mojo all around," the center responded.

"Enjoy your weekend off, fellas," Coach was saying. "See you all Monday morning."

Noah made a beeline for the showers, hoping the media would focus on reviewing the game at the post-game presser.

They didn't.

After the fourth question intimating that he played better when Charlotte was in the stadium, Noah shot a death glare at Asia. The Blaze media director was quick to come to his rescue.

"If there's nothing else about the specifics of this evening's game, we are going to adjourn for the night. Thank you, Noah," Asia said as he slipped out of the press room and into the deserted hallway housing the training rooms.

He blew out an annoyed breath. How had things gotten so effed up? When he sucked, that's all the media wanted to talk about. Now, when his passer rating was the second highest in the league, all they wanted to focus on was Charlotte Davis. And the torrid love affair everyone assumed they were having.

In his dreams.

He rounded the corner, only to collide with someone walking toward him. Except it wasn't someone. It was her. As if he'd conjured her up somehow.

"Oh," Charlotte gasped against his chest.

Noah groaned as he breathed in a lungful of her unique scent. His fingers glided along the soft cashmere of her sweater, one hand sliding down to manacle her wrist. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd tugged her into one of the empty training rooms. He kicked the door closed with his foot, then did a one-eighty, pressing Charlotte's back against the wall, boxing her in with his hands on either side of her head.

His breath was sawing through his lungs as he studied her up close. How had he not noticed her lashes were a deep auburn instead of brown? Or that she had a little scar just above her right eyebrow, probably from a fall as a child. His chest ached at the thought of her being hurt. He resisted the urge to press his lips to the white mark.

"Hi," she whispered, breaking the charged silence.

Noah didn't trust his voice. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and continued to catalog the intricacies of her beautiful face.

"I was looking for you."

That got his attention. His gaze collided with hers. She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, drawing his gaze down to her tempting mouth. The move had him swallowing a groan.

"Vivian drew you a picture," she murmured. "It's a school night, so she wasn't allowed to come to the game. I said I'd give it to you."

She reached down to her purse sandwiched between them. Her hand grazed his stomach, making them both flinch. Noah hissed. Her eyes went round when he leaned in, trapping her hand against his abdomen.

"You are not the reason we won tonight," he ground out.

Charlotte looked at him, her expression a mix of shock and annoyance. "No. Of course not." She shook her head. "Your receivers didn't drop your passes. I had nothing to do with it."

He nodded, his chin nearly connecting with hers. "I don't need you in the stadium cheering for me in order to play well, you hear me?"

"You don't." She gave her head another slight shake before jerking her chin up. "And who says I came to the game tonight because of you?"

Her sassy tone snapped what remained of Noah's self-control. Without conscious thought, his fingers were tunneling through her luscious hair, angling her head just so before he crushed her mouth with his. Charlotte responded with a seductive sigh. The sound drove him even wilder. Teeth and tongues collided as he plundered her mouth.

Charlotte should have objected to the rough way he was handling her. Any woman should. His mother would be appalled.

Instead, she let him have his way, formfitting her body against his. His junk grew unbearably tight at the contact. She managed to work free the hand trapped beneath their bodies, trailing it up his chest to cradle his jaw. He wanted to beg her to take her hand in the other direction, but he didn't dare tear his mouth away. It appeased him slightly when her other hand slipped beneath his sweatshirt, where she traced soothing circles along the skin of his back.

If it was her intent to calm him down, she was going about it the wrong way. Her simple touch ignited all the nerve endings in his body. She moaned when he eased his thigh between hers. He echoed the sound when his fingers snaked beneath her cropped sweater, coming in contact with the soft skin of her belly. The circles on his back became more agitated as her nails took over.

He was in the midst of hiking up one of her legs around his waist when the door burst open.

"There you are," Brody exclaimed as he bounded into the room.

"Christ, Brody! Don't you know how to knock?" Noah snapped, trying to shield Charlotte from view.

"Hey, dude. I didn't expect you to be hiding in the training room playing Seven Minutes in Heaven." Brody shot Charlotte one of his toothpaste ad grins. "I knew there was something going on between you two."

Noah resisted the urge to throttle his most reliable receiver. "Was there something you needed?"

The tight end grew serious. "Your phone has been buzzing nonstop. I wasn't trying to be nosy. It buzzed itself right off the shelf of your locker." He handed the phone to Noah. "You've missed ten calls from your dad."

A chill ran up his spine. His dad knew the post-game routine. He wouldn't call unless it was important. He slid his finger to the voicemail button and listened.

"Everything okay?" Brody asked a moment later.

"No." Noah swiped to his favorites screen. "My grandmother is in the hospital."

"Meemaw?" There was a hint of panic in Charlotte's voice. As if she and his formidable grandmother were fast friends or something.

"The one and only." He punched at his father's contact.

He answered before the phone even rang. "Son."

"Dad." Noah dragged his fingers through his hair. "How is she?"

"She's stable," his father answered. "They're still running tests. The doctors want to keep her overnight."

"What happened?"

"We were watching the game when she became lightheaded and nearly passed out."

"I did no such thing," Meemaw shouted in the background.

His father swore. "She's so bullheaded, she won't let them give her anything to help her rest."

"That stuff will make me too groggy for Silver Sneakers tomorrow. I can't have that Marcy Kuttner beating my mall-walking time."

There was never a doubt where Noah got his competitiveness from.

"You aren't going to Silver Sneakers tomorrow," his father said, showing more patience with his mother than usual. "Not until we know what caused this episode."

"I'm a soon-to-be eighty-five-year-old woman. That's what caused this episode, as you call it. Now let me talk to my grandson."

His father's sigh was a weary one. "Tell her to behave, Noah."

"Nice game," Meemaw said when she got her hands on the phone. She sounded tired, but that was to be expected. It was closing in on midnight. "I see your princess came back from London."

"For crying out loud, Meemaw. Not this again." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why don't you focus on doing what the medical staff tell you to do so we can all celebrate your birthday this weekend. I'll be home first thing in the morning. If you're good, I'll take you to DQ for lunch."

"I'll promise to be good if you promise to bring your girlfriend with you."

"Meemaw, we talked about this?—"

His grandmother moaned. "My head is starting to spin again. I should probably stop yapping and get some rest if I want to enjoy my birthday party this weekend. It could be my last, you know."

She ended the call before he could talk to his dad.

Christ.

The woman was incorrigible.

But she's also not getting any younger. What if this is her last birthday?

Noah swore as he pocketed his phone. Brody and Charlotte looked at him with concern.

"She's fine," he told them. "Just ornery."

A fond smile formed on Brody's mouth. "My grandpa Gus was like that. Annoying as hell. What I wouldn't give to have one more conversation with him, though." He looked between Charlotte and Noah. "Alrighty then. I'll let you two get back to . . . whatever it was that you were doing." He shot Noah a cat-ate-the-canary grin. "But you've got some ‘splaining to do when I see you next." He backed out of the door with a bow before closing them inside the training room.

Charlotte rolled her eyes at Brody's antics before refocusing them on Noah.

"I'm glad she's okay," she said.

"Mmm."

Her teeth found her bottom lip again as she studied him for a long moment. With a sigh, she dug her hand into the bag slung over her shoulder and pulled out a folded piece of pink construction paper.

"From Vivian."

She placed it on the training table between them and turned to leave.

"Charlotte."

One eyebrow shot up in question when she looked back over her shoulder at him.

"Remember that favor I did for you in London?"

She jerked her chin up and down.

"Good. Because I'm going to need you to help me out this weekend."

The early morning flight was rowdy, surprisingly. A crowd of college students and alumni were headed to Asheville for a football game. Noah and Charlotte tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible, hanging back as everyone else boarded, before taking the first two seats in First Class.

"This is really all you brought?" he asked as he hefted her carryon into the overhead bin.

Charlotte slid into the window seat. "You keep asking that. You told me we were going to a high school football game and a family party for your grandmother's birthday. Were you expecting me to bring a trunk full of ball gowns and designer shoes to wear to both?"

She hated how waspish she sounded. But she was tiring of him treating her like the high maintenance princess everyone assumed her to be. Especially since he should know better by now.

It didn't help that she was operating on very little sleep, either, after spending the night tossing and turning, reliving their steamy interlude in the training room. She shouldn't have agreed to this. What was she thinking spending a weekend with a man who could turn it on and off at will? One minute, he had her melting in his arms. The next minute, he was succinctly explaining that she "owed him" and he needed her to join him in North Carolina for the weekend to pay off her debt.

Sighing, he sat down beside her. "I only meant that I've never traveled with a woman who packed so economically, that's all."

Well.

It was a back-handed compliment, but she'd take it. And that was not jealousy bubbling up in her chest. He'd enjoyed a few romantic getaways with other women before. So what?

Except this was most assuredly not a romantic getaway. He'd made that fact perfectly clear last night when he told her she was coming along because his Meemaw wanted to meet her.

You're not his type, remember?

"So how is this going to work?" she demanded when the plane was taxiing down the runway. "The whole world thinks we are an item. Are we pretending in front of your family?"

He gave her a pointed look. "I don't lie to the people who matter the most to me. My family is everything. I've told them we're just friends."

Charlotte huffed. "Do you always kiss your friends like you're the last two people on Earth?"

Holy hell, she needed coffee. Or duct tape.

His eyes darkened as his gaze drifted to her lips. The plane lurched before banking sharply left. She slammed her eyes shut. As much to avoid his penetrating gaze as to keep her equilibrium while the plane made its ascent.

Noah's fingers found hers on the arm rest. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She squeezed back.

"I don't know what we are," he said once the plane leveled out. "But you can always count on me."

Tears pressed at the back of her eyes. Damn, she was tired. Tired of never being enough. Never being the right one. The right type.

Especially since he'd acted like she was his type last night. And the other times he'd kissed her. In fact, she'd never felt more like a man's type. For some reason, the pigheaded guy next to her refused to see it.

No matter. She'd be his type for the weekend. His "friend-zone" type. It was the least she could do for continually dragging him into her messy life. Later, she'd worry about the repeated hits her heart was about to take these next few days.