11. Team Dinner

TEAM DINNER

Riley

Lo kicks me under the table when Hudson Hart enters the dining room.

"If I'd actually fucked him, I'm not sure I'd ever be the same," she whispers. "He's hot as hell."

"I'm here in Vegas, and I did the whole mess the dress thing, both at your insistence. My sin is abolished." I turn and pin her with a glare. "We good?"

"I'm good." she wags her brows. "Just checking out the dessert buffet I've been drooling over all this time and deciding which one I'll taste first." She looks at me. "So, just to clarify, you're not going there with Hart?"

"I'm not talking to you right now."

She giggles as she shoves her fork into the tenderloin. "Enough said."

Did I see Hart walk in? Sure did. I could pick him out of a crowd of hundreds. But admitting that would be humiliating, to say the least.

I was drunk with a capital D when I saw the hot-as-hell player who I'd announced and welcomed to the family on draft night. He was the picture in my head, or on my screen, when I got myself off until Brett came back into my life. And when he didn't recognize me during the team meet and greet, I tamped down my hurt feelings that he didn't recognize me and leaned into the fact I'd fucked my fantasy guy.

Then, when he started showing up at the brewery, I panicked, and Lauren … well, she saw it and offered.

I should have never agreed to it.

"This seat taken?" Boone asks as he approaches us.

"Aren't you supposed to eat with the team?" Sydney asks, her face turning red.

He sits down. "You ladies are part of the team."

Grimes sits beside him, and a new guy asks, "Is this seat taken?"

"Ooo, you have an accent," Lo notes.

He nods. "Oden Voss. And you are …?"

"Off limits," comes from a familiar voice who plops his ass right next to me. "These ladies are part of the owner's co-op."

"And that makes them off limits?" Voss asks but quickly answers his own question. "Very American."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Hart asks in a very un-Hart-like manner.

I use a Lo tactic and kick him under the table. He doesn't flinch.

"Americans view dating and sex differently than we do in Europe."

"We do casual sex in the US," Sydney states, which also shocks me.

Boone just about chokes on his steak. "I mean, some do, and some don't. I'm sure the fathers of say … these ladies would not be a fan of someone who casually fucked one of them."

"Gotta let you in on a little secret, Boone," Sydney whispers. "Little girls don't typically ask their daddies to take part in that specific area of their lives."

Boone narrows his eyes just slightly at her.

"And for the record, not all of our daddy's are owners," Maggie says.

"And to add to that, Maggie and Izzy are barely legal," Hudson says, causing them both to groan and me to turn to him and nod in appreciation, which is clearly a bad idea. "And one last thing, you fuck with a Brooks girl, you answer to me."

Sydney and Lo both start cackling. Me? I'm fucking mortified.

"So, which one are you messing with?" Voss asks, clearly trying to stir up trouble.

"Currently, neither, but that doesn't change a damn thing." Hudson glares at him.

"Yeah, well, as a Brooks woman , I think you should know we can handle ourselves."

"Sisters?" Voss's clearly trying to stir shit up, and it works.

Hart's ass lifts from the seat.

I quickly grab his knee and squeeze it hard enough and in the right spot to stop him.

Eyes wide, he turns to me and growls, "Not happening."

"Stop bullying the new guy," I scold him, then turn to Voss. "This team doesn't do this whole bit." I point to him, then Hart. "Not good for morale, especially not going into a game as important as tomorrow's. You two understand?"

Voss nods. "Understood."

"You sure? Because I'm?—"

I stomp on his foot to shut him up, and his jaw clamps shut briefly before he snarls, "We're good."

The rest of the dinner is quiet, completely quiet, and Hart and Boone are the last of the players to finish.

Boone stands. "You ladies sleep well. We'll see you tomorrow?"

"We'll be there." Sydney smiles.

Hart turns and looks at me as he stands. "See you tomorrow, Brooksie."

"Yep."

When they walk away, Lo giggles. " Yep ? That's it?"

"Sure is." I stand. "I'm going to crash."

Syd and Lo are the only two in the group who know what's up, but the whispers behind us make it obvious that Maggie and Izzy know something's up when we're walking toward our suites.

As soon as I stop at the door to swipe my card, I know they're coming in. Normally, this would be awesome, but right now …

"I need you for a minute," Sydney says, dragging me behind her. She tosses back, "Iz, Mags, pop the champagne. We're celebrating the fact we're all single."

She pulls me into the bathroom, and Lo is right behind me.

Once the door is shut, she starts, "You and Hart deserve a fair shot at this."

"Nothing is?—"

"You shut your pretty lips and listen to me, Riley Mae Brooks," Sydney demands as she pulls up her dress and sits to pee. "He staked a claim in front of your girls and his teammates. You let that be what this is about because it is, in fact, what it's about. He didn't want you to marry that asshole long before he knew you were the girl in 'Cuse and not Lo. No one needs to know the original story because it doesn't always matter."

Lo smiles. "Totally agree."

The door opens, and the girls walk in.

"Are we toasting in here or …?" Iz asks.

"Don't think we're too young to catch on that Hudson Hart is finally admitting he wants Riley. So hot." Mags sighs.

"Hot or not, he just twat-swatted us," Iz huffs. "I'm legal."

"I think he's just trying to protect you from being used by a player." Sydney walks over to wash her hands.

"Such a man thing to do," Iz huffs. "Such simple minds they have."

Mags giggles. "In this day and age, they still think we're the weaker sex? I think not. They know. They're just trying to protect their fragile egos from realizing they've been played."

"I think Hart's heart is in the right place." Lo shrugs.

Before we even polish off a bottle, I fall asleep, and when I wake up, there's a note beside my head.

You've had an emotional day, so we're letting you sleep while the four of us hit the gym.

Which was Lo's idea. I didn't sign up for this shit …

Text us when you wake up.

XOXO

Syd

I have had an emotional day, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be able to sleep tonight without getting rid of this nervous energy , I think as I quickly change into workout gear and head to the gym.

By the time I figure out where the gym is, how to get in without my key, and realizing I left my phone behind, they've already taken off.

The gym is completely empty, and I'm here, wide awake at nearly midnight, so I decide to get at least a thirty-minute run in.

I find the surround sound system and change the station to 90's rock. Nirvana's "Come As You Are" is playing, and I realize that, without a playlist, I may not find my stride. But whatever, I need this.

I realize the 90's rock gods are on my corner when Green Days' "Basket Case" begins. I increase my stride.

The gym is pretty sweet and more modern than some hotel gyms I've used, but it is definitely not like the one at Legacy Stadium. It's brightly lit, and the floor-to-ceiling windows give an amazing view of the Vegas skyline outside. It's cool, but Vegas was never my favorite city. Although, it is the first place a man literally swooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder who wasn't related.

When the song changes, I can't help but start singing along to Offspring's "Self Esteem." Freaking love this song.

I'm lost in my own head, singing along, trying to keep my stride up, when someone steps onto the empty treadmill beside me, and that someone is … Hudson Hart.

"What are you doing?" I ask as I grab the handrails to stop myself from faceplanting onto the moving belt, which would be disastrous.

"Don't try to mess up my routine, Brooksie. Pretend I'm not even here," he says as he begins tapping the speed button and the incline.

Fucking show-off.

Not to be outdone by him, I increase my speed to match his.

I catch his smirk in his reflection when the song changes, and I don't know if it's me, or "Mr. Jones" that has him smirking. I mean, it's a good song and always makes me smile, but never as big as I am right now when he starts singing along at the top of his lungs.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask, unable to stop myself from laughing.

He sings the whole damn song, too, and not gonna lie, he ain't that bad.

When the song changes again, we both turn and look at each other, exchanging a look that seems to ask, " You like this one? "

He smiles and speeds up, and again starts to sing. I decide, fuck it , and join in singing "Song 2" by Blur.

The songs just keep coming, and I have to admit I'm enjoying this. How could I not? Great music, hot as hell reflection of Hudson Hart on the window, and he's singing without giving a damn, making me feel free to do the same thing.

Then he reaches over and increases my time by fifteen minutes.

"What the hell?" I try to bat his hand away.

"Thirty minutes is for pussies, Riley Brooks. You're no pussy, are you?"

I completely allow my competitive nature to kick in. "Is that a challenge?"

"Damn right, it is."

"Twenty bucks says I can outlast you."

"I'll see your twenty and raise you one date, when you're ready."

"Don't make this about that." I scowl.

"Don't make me keep wondering if I'm alone in this," he counters.

"Fine." I reach across and up his speed. "I'm going to kick your ass, Hart."

"After I win this date, I promise to let you win every other comp you can dream up. Just gonna ask that they gradually get super-hot, like who can stay underwater longer while performing oral."

I have to grab the handrails again to stop from falling. "Whaaaat?"

"Or how many cherries I can eat off your body without getting so worked up I blow it in my boxers."

I laugh. "What is wrong with you?"

"I'm releasing two years' worth of suppressed filthy thoughts I bottled up involving everything I want to do to your hot little body."

"I'm not a size two. I'm?—"

"Which makes it all so much hotter." He groans, freaking groans. "Help me out here … when we fucked in the bathroom, how much titty action did you allow me?"

And that's when I do stumble.

"Fuck, shit, dammit," he says, hurrying to where I'm crouched on my knees, burying my head so he doesn't see my face. "Brooksie, babe, are you okay?"

He's squatted down in front of me, and I snap at him, "You can't say shit like that to me."

"I'm not good with keeping shit inside." He rubs his hand down my back. "Where are you hurt?"

I roll my head to the side and look up at him. "I'm not hurt. I'm good. You just?—"

"Turned you on," he states as he takes my hand and pulls me up. "Good to know."

"Hudson …" I take my hand from his. "I am not jumping into a relationship with anyone, and you should be thinking about your career."

"You're in tight little shorts and a sports bra. You're just as turned on by me as I am by you." I open my mouth, and he holds his hand up. "Right now, we have no lies between us." He holds his hand to his chest. "Your nips are basically waving me over, so if you deny it, that's a lie. I don't want that."

I cross my arms over my chest.

After glancing down at my boobs, his eyes meet mine again, and he blinks a few times. "You have me so twisted up inside, but on the flip side, I have never seen anything as clearly as I do this. It sounds fucked up, but there it is."

"I just broke off an engagement. I'm not jumping into a relationship." I reiterate, and he starts to talk, but I stop him. "You want no lies? Me neither. I hate them. But I do have a secret that I should tell you."

He nods as he looks me over with more appreciation than any man ever has.

"I knew exactly who you were after walking out of the bathroom. You were our number two pick, and my introverted ass was determined to go on stage and announce your name because you are every girl's fantasy. If there was this connection you think there is, you'd have remembered me."

"So, I failed a test I didn't even get a chance to study for, while I was shitfaced, and you're not letting me retake it?"

I shrug. "I mean, yeah. It was a one-night thing."

"I won't accept that."

"Then accept that I am not going to let another man shatter my fucking self-confidence by cheating on me, and you will, Hudson; they all do."

"Pisses me off you think that, but it doesn't scare me off."

"It's not a damn challenge."

"I'm not them, but they are part of you, and I accept that I'm going to have to show you what a real man is like, because shitbags like them had the privileged before me. We'll get through that, and then"—he makes an explosion with his hands—"unstoppable."

"You're not hearing me." I stomp my foot.

"I'm hearing you just fine. You're not hearing me." He steps to me, takes my face in his hands, and whispers, "I'm going to kiss you."

"This is a really bad idea. We?—"

A moan escapes me when his lips touch the base of my throat.

"You got your fantasy; it's only fair you let me have mine."

A trail of searing kisses travels up my neck, jaw, behind my ear, and finally lands on my lips. Warm, soft, but firm lips skate across mine, then back again, this time parted. My heart is pounding against my chest so hard I guarantee he feels it. And when he takes my hand and holds it to his chest, it feels like he can read my mind and is answering my question. This is really happening.

I grip his sweat-damp tank top, my back arching when I feel the steel nipple piercing. So hot.

I don't even realize we're moving until I feel the cold glass against my exposed skin. His tongue slides inside my mouth, and a growl escapes him.

When my tongue meets his, he presses his entire body against mine, and the feel of his hard length against my belly causes white-hot flames to ignite inside of me.

His hands travel down my shoulders to my waist, and he lifts me up, never breaking the kiss, only deepening it.

But then, the click of the door has me pushing him away.

He pulls me against him and kisses my forehead. "I'm so far from done with you that I'm almost certain one lifetime isn't going to be enough."