11. Lucia

The team’s private plane was divided into sections, with regular traveling staff—Lucia included—in the back, players in the middle, and coaches in the front. There were curtains to partition and separate each group from the other, allowing each of them to do their different types of work.

Lucia sat near the back of the plane, tablet resting in her lap as she scrolled through analytics from the past few games. She was figuring out if there was anything in particular she wanted Colton to focus on before their next game. She didn’t even notice that someone had sat beside her until they jostled her with their elbow.

She turned to give a reprimanding look to the culprit but found Colton grinning at her instead. “Hi, beautiful.”

Her heart tripped for a second, and her stomach knotted up until she saw his head subtly tilt in the direction of the others in her section. Most of them had their eyes fixed on them, whispering amongst themselves.

“Hi…”

“You can call me handsome if it helps,” he whispered against her ear.

“Pass.”

“You’re not being a very good girlfriend. How will anybody know that we’re truly together if you won’t give me the verbal praise I yearn for? Tell me how hot I am.” He was still keeping his voice low, but there was a teasing to the words.

She laughed. “You’re an idiot. Shouldn’t you be going over plays or being a team leader? Or doing something even a little productive?”

He nodded. “Sure. What should I do to get my numbers up this game, O Learned One?”

“Honestly, I want to see you having fun on the field. This is something you’re passionate about.” She paused looking at him for confirmation. He nodded again. “So let that show.”

“Are ya gonna watch me have fun?”

She began typing notes to herself on the tablet, highlighting Colton’s relevant numbers and copying them into a separate document. “Well, it is my job.”

“I don’t wanna have fun all by myself.”

She turned to him again, and there was that wicked grin on his face. He was so handsome, even when he was trying to annoy her.

“Good thing you have a whole team, who, by the way, you should go bother instead of me.”

“Don’t you wanna know what kind of fun I have by myself? And why it would be so much better with, say, a girlfriend?”

Lucia held back a giggle at the insinuation. Colton was an idiot, but he certainly knew how to make her laugh.

“I’m going to start recording our conversations and showing your teammates. Just so you’ve been made aware.”

He groaned. “Lu-chi-uh, I’m so bored. Talk to me.”

She wondered why he’d chosen her to talk to when he was bored when all of his best friends were on the plane with them. She felt almost honored that he’d chosen her to annoy.

In keeping with her faux-irritation, she said, “Colton, you get on my very last nerve.”

“Good.”

He placed his head on her shoulder as she continued to work. Minutes later, he was asleep, and she was too busy trying to make sure he didn’t hurt his neck to finish what she’d planned to get done on the plane.

Lucia’s phone vibrating was no longer new, but she was surprised to see two texts from Colton, especially since she knew he was supposed to be in his hotel room for the night.

Colton

Please come bother me.

Luc pls, Coach locked me in my room and it’s so early and I’m so bored.

Lucia rolled her eyes as she clicked open her phone. She had never met a man who could switch up like Colton. One minute, he was this manly, angry, hard-headed jock, and the next, he was a five-year-old.

Lucia

You text like a teenager.

She tried to focus back on her laptop where her checklist hadn’t even begun to dwindle. Most of her prep work for the game was done, but she also needed to prepare her and Colton’s sessions for the next week. Of course, those would change if something crazy happened during the game in a couple of days. If they won, she’d have to adjust a little, but if they lost, they’d have a lot more work to do. Some of which she was not equipped to handle without a sports psychology degree.

Colton

That’s fine. Bring some snacks, I am a man starved.

Lucia

I saw you scarf down an entire pizza during meetings. How does your bodyfunction with the amount of pizza you consume?

Lucia weighed whether staring at her computer for another two hours was a better or worse way to spend her time than taking snacks to her juvenile-esque, fake boyfriend. She opted for the second, knowing she wouldn’t be able to concentrate when he inevitably continued texting her.

Colton

Wouldn’t you like to know?

Lucia

Aren’t you guys supposed to be on a diet during the season?

Colton

Are you body-shaming me? I’m HURT. Here I was thinking you liked my physique.

Lucia pocketed her phone, put her laptop and tablet onto the desk, and made a snap decision to remain in the pajamas she’d changed into earlier—sweatpants and a Virginia Vipers t-shirt. She smirked at herself in the mirror, already picturing the glare on Colton’s face when he opened his door. To be fair, she’d only packed for a couple of evenings, and it was the only sleep shirt she’d brought.

The vending machines were mostly a bust, but she managed to scrounge up two bags of MMs, a bag of Chex Mix, and a bag of regular Lays. It would have to do, especially on short notice.

He’d texted her his room number—conveniently on the top floor—and she could see by the tape on his door that it was his. She laughed at the three layers of scotch tape on the top, middle, and bottom of the door. He must’ve been known for taking late-night trips out of his room.

It was an antiquated tradition and made the coaches seem like toxic partners who needed to know where their players were at all times, especially at night when they were meant to be resting and relaxing. Yet something about Coach Turner trapping the fully grown, six-three, 200-and-something-pound, twenty-eight-year-old man made her giggle. She knocked lightly, holding up the measly snacks she’d acquired for his peep-hole approval.

“Pull the tape up,” he instructed through the door. She pulled the tape from the door, leaving it stuck only to the frame.

The door opened slowly. He rested a shoulder against the frame, his long, muscled arm opening the door wide enough for her to walk underneath. She ignored his narrowed eyes as they found her shirt.

His room was, obviously, a suite, even though he only used it at night. She walked into the living area with a full dining table, couch, coffee table, TV stand, and TV. Past that was a sink, microwave, fridge, and coffee stand.

“This is so much nicer than my room. That’s not fair.”

The sounds of college football filtered in from the bedroom, cheering clear behind the sound of an announcer. Lucia set the snacks next to the sink. The bedroom, which connected via a hallway to the living room, had a separate door, desk, and king-sized bed. She wasn’t sure what exactly the plan had been after she brought him the food, so she turned around.

He was eyeing her incredulously, and she wasn’t sure if his eyes were fixated on the goosebumps that cropped up on her arms, or the shirt.

“Cold?” he asked. She supposed that answered the question.

She crossed her arms. “Oh, no, I’ll be fine.”

He was already fishing a dark green sweatshirt out of his duffle bag, tossing it to her. “Put that on. And keep it, I don’t wanna see that shit again.” Under his breath, he mumbled, “Imagine wearing a Vipers shirt in front of me. The gall.”

“Oh, you don’t like my shirt?” She batted her eyelashes at him innocently but pulled the sweatshirt over her torso. It smelled so much of him, rich and earthy and surprisingly…nice.

“I’d like it a lot more if it were in the trash. Or better yet, burned.” He grabbed the snacks and threw them onto his bed. He hooked his thumb behind him toward the other side of the bed as he sat, grabbing the remote.

“Oh, are we…Am I staying? I thought I was just bringing snacks.”

“Moretti, sit your ass on the bed. I’m not treating you like an intern. Or a food delivery service.”

He clicked to the TV guide, perusing. She took a moment to take in the tight, white t-shirt and dark green sweatpants that were no doubt a part of a Sabers sweatsuit. She was starting to get annoyed with the way her body responded to him, hating the familiar, tight coil of desire behind her belly button that she noticed any time he walked around in sweatpants. And that damn t-shirt. She chalked it up to being celibate for months, but damn did his body look good.

“Not that I don’t enjoy you ogling me, because trust me, I do, but I need your help choosing a movie. Otherwise, I’m going to pick something you’ll probably hate.”

She could feel herself flushing, warmth creeping over her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “Sometimes I forget how highly you think of yourself.”

“I think the only person who was thinking about me just now was you.”

She didn’t have a response to that, because he was right. She sat beside him, leaving enough room between them that she didn’t feel like her breath was stuck in her chest. Another interesting body quirk she’d experienced in his presence recently.

“If Coach Turner asks, you forced me to come see you on the threat of a breakup.”

He slid down on the bed a bit. “I sound like a terrible boyfriend.”

She shrugged. “Well, if the shoe fits and all of that.”

She was startled when he turned and looked at her meaningfully. “If you don’t want to be here, I understand. I appreciate the snacks, but you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” He sounded surprisingly serious.

“Well, it all comes down to what movie you choose. You already scrolled past How To Lose A Guy in Ten Days, so I’m not sure I can trust your decision-making.”

He stopped scrolling, moving back up toward the movie she’d indicated. “Sounds dumb. What’s it about?”

Lucia mock gasped, a hand on her heart. “How dare you! That is prime romcom.”

He clicked on it and, just as it was starting, said, “Okay, but what’s it about?”

“I could write an essay on this movie, but it’s about a journalist who wants to write about politics but is assigned the How To section at a gossip magazine. That’s all you get, you just have to watch.”

“You shouldn’t work in movie marketing.”

Despite what he would probably say at the end of the movie, Colton seemed engaged in the story. Lucia spent more time watching his reactions from the corner of her eye than watching the movie itself.

She couldn’t believe she was sitting on a bed with Colton Beaumont. Watching a movie. Sharing snacks. Not wanting to murder him. Sometimes even laughing with him.

A few months earlier, if someone had told her she would find herself in this situation with him, she would’ve thought they were on all kinds of drugs. Lucia Moretti and Colton Beaumont did not mix. And if they did, it was for an MMA fight to the death.

This new, fragile alliance was confusing. He was being nice to her. Gone was the douchebag with a stick up his ass. He’d been replaced with someone kind enough to kneel in front of her as she sobbed, wiping away her tears and offering to make a serious change to his life to save her the embarrassment of the press shitting on her. Someone who, despite harboring a very serious vendetta against her ex, had spent his free time being her only acquaintance in a city that hadn’t been the kindest to her. Maybe even a friend.

She actually liked this Colton. He was goofy and made her laugh, at least internally (she couldn’t show all her cards, after all). He showed her how good a boyfriend he could be to someone—someone who would one day enjoy his love and attention.

That was a weird thought. Once they broke up in January, he might find someone who he could love. He might show the new woman Charleston the way he had Lucia. He might stow her away on the plane and have her join him in his hotel room, watching a romcom with her two days before a big game. Lucia wasn’t sure why that bothered her, but it did a little. At least the part of her that could acknowledge how attracted to him she was and how much she enjoyed his company.

She turned to look at his profile, taking in the strong nose, chin, and hardly-there stubble. The angled cheekbones and dark hair. The full lips that were twitching into a smile.

“What?” he asked, his eyes still on the movie.

“Huh?”

“Are you ogling me again?”

“No.” Yes. “It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“Look at us. Being friendly.” She paused, remembering something that’d flitted through her mind during their first dinner date. “Do you finally believe that I’m not trying to screw you out of your season?”

He finally turned to her, eyes holding hers. “I stopped believing that the day you and Coop talked on the plane on the way back from our first regular season game.”

“Really? What changed your mind?”

“Coop just talked some sense into me. And, really, I should apologize for the way I acted when you first came to Charleston. I know the move must’ve been hard on you after everything, and I’m sure I didn’t make it any easier.”

“Mm. You know, saying that you should apologize isn’t the same as apologizing.”

“You want me to get on my knees and beg you to forgive me?” Her breath hitched, and he must’ve noticed it, his eyes falling to her parted lips. “Because I will. Just give me the word.”

She rolled her eyes to ease the tension between them, turning back to the movie. “No, that’s not necessary. But I will take a ‘sorry I made your life miserable and your job difficult during the worst weeks of your life.’”

“Lucia Moretti, I’m sorry I made your life miserable and your job difficult during the worst weeks of your life.”

She nodded once, a small smile on her face. “Better.”

She didn’t realize until the movie was over that he hadn’t touched the snacks she’d brought him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you asking me to bring you snacks was a ruse to trick me into coming to see you.”

He grinned as he stood. “Good thing you know better.” When she started to take the sweatshirt off, he pulled it back down, holding firmly onto the fabric. “I said you could keep it, and I meant it. I have a thousand of these. And I never wanna see you in a Vipers shirt again.”

“Noted.”

He grabbed a keycard from the coffee table as they walked to his door. She raised an eyebrow.

“Wasn’t the whole point of me bringing you food so that I could leave and fix the tape for you? Coach’ll be pissed.”

“I don’t give a damn. I care far more about making sure you get to your room safely.”

Were those…were those butterflies in her stomach? Fucking butterflies. She was going to have to have a serious talk with herself. And maybe Isa. Isa would talk sense into her. This was getting out of hand.

They stood on opposite sides of the elevator, Lucia looking everywhere but at him, though she could feel his eyes on her. When they finally reached her floor, she walked to her door quickly.

She felt him move behind her as she dug around in her little purse for her key card. His chest was nearly pressed to her back, his arm beside her head, resting against the door, caging her in. Gentle fingers found her waist, and Lucia dropped her purse, every muscle in her body coming to a standstill. She could feel his breath tickling her neck, and her eyes closed involuntarily.

There was something intimate about the closeness, his front nearly touching her back, his fingers just a whisper in the dip above her left hip. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but she couldn’t find it in herself to push away, or even to bend down to grab the purse and keycard.

“Colton…”

As if he hadn’t even realized what he’d been doing, he jolted away from her, reaching around to grab her purse from the ground. She put all of her focus into curling her hand around the bag, separating the two cards, and swiping one into the slot. When the light flashed green, he reached past her again to push the door open.

“Goodnight, Lucia. Double lock your door, please.”

“G—goodnight.” She stepped forward, and the door closed behind her. Her hands shook as she locked the door.

She felt jittery, like she’d just had two shots of espresso, and even when she had turned off all the lights and sunk into bed, she couldn’t stop tossing and turning.