CHAPTER 7 LINCOLN

We spend the morning together mostly naked. She leaves just before lunch to see her son, and then she has a whole host of appointments to get ready for tonight's event—something I don't have to worry about since I just need to slide into my tux and pick up my date.

My date.

Sam's great and all, but it's really sort of a sorry substitute when I want the real thing.

Still, I appreciate what Sam is doing for us more than I can express. Someday, she'll meet some dude and want to start a life with him, though, and where will that leave us?

Maybe it'll be a distraction to the team, and the media will focus more on my personal life with her than on my coaching skillset…or maybe it'll all blow over because the next big scandal happens elsewhere in the league.

I don't know what the right answer is, but I do know that letting her go without me was hard this morning, and it keeps getting harder and harder each time I have to do it.

I didn't tell her my parents were invited to tonight's event. As soon as Jack heard that they'd moved to town, he added them to the guest list as my guests of honor.

But the truth is, I don't really want them there. I've worked hard to build my own name despite the scores of football fans who believe I got every single break I did because my last name is Nash.

Last names might open doors, but it's hard work along with a proven track record that reaps the real rewards.

Asher will be there, too, so I'm hopeful that he'll be there to run interference. I certainly have no interest in entertaining them. I'll have enough of my own shit to take care of tonight—like finding a quiet spot to bang my girlfriend.

My girlfriend. Shit, did I really just use that word in my brain?

Is that what she is?

I blow out a breath. I told her I love her. She said it back.

I think that's what she is, and the thought of how unconventional and backward all this is strikes me hard.

I put in a couple hours of work as I study film from last week's minicamp, and then I slip into my tux and head over to Sam's place, where a car is waiting to take the two of us to the ball.

Sam answers the door, and she looks gorgeous in a black evening gown. But I hardly notice because standing behind her eating a sandwich in the kitchen is Jolene Bailey.

She may be working the event, but good God damn, she put in the work to show how fucking gorgeous she is tonight.

I blow out a whistle as I try to keep it in my pants.

Jesus.

My dick is begging for her, especially after the events of the last twenty-four hours.

"You both are stunning," I say, my eyes drawn to the lady eating the sandwich rather than my actual date.

She sets down the bread as her jaw slackens a little. "Jeez, Nash. Exactly how many numbers are you trying to snag tonight?"

I chuckle as I rub my palms together. "None. But I'm hopeful my date will run interference so I can find a secret place to see what the inside of that dress looks like."

Jolene's eyes widen at the thought, and she tilts her head to indicate yep, that's definitely happening tonight.

"Can't you just go bang it out now so I don't have to run interference?" Sam begs.

"Sorry, Samantha, but I need to get over there a bit early since I'm one of the honorary chairs," I say.

She rolls her eyes, but I hardly notice as I step away from her and toward the woman I admitted my real feelings to today.

"You doing okay?" I ask, my voice low.

She nods, and I press a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Mm, peanut butter," I murmur.

She raises a brow. "You can slather it on me later if you want."

"Oh barf," Sam mutters from the entry.

I ignore her. "You look beautiful. No snagging numbers yourself. Remember who you're secretly coming home to."

"Only if you really find us a secret place to get up this skirt," she says, poking me in the chest.

I loop an arm around her waist and haul her to me. "Now that's a promise I'm glad to make." I drop my mouth to hers, and I give her the kind of kiss I hope she won't forget as she heads into tonight's event.

I know I won't forget it.

As soon as we arrive, I start looking for places. I'm distracted as I walk the red carpet with my date, my eyes moving all around. There has to be somewhere, but I also know eyes will be on me tonight.

This might be harder than I thought.

We enter the ballroom, and Jack and Steve are both there with their wives, who I've had the pleasure of meeting before.

"This is Samantha," I say, introducing my date, who has met these men at the Gridiron before but not their wives.

I glance around the room, and it's immediately clear to me how much work went into this event.

It's impressive, but I already feel like my heart's not in it. How can it be when I'm not here with Jolene?

I make the rounds with all the important people chairing this event including Luke Dalton and Ben Olson, who are here with their wives and looking like they're ready for a good time with their kids at home, and the entire time, I'm glancing around distractedly as I look to see if there are any private places we can escape to.

I don't see any. Sam and I walk outside in the gardens, and there are some private spaces out here, but none that I don't think we'd get caught in.

When we walk back in, I see a few offices with no lights on. I try the doors, and they're all locked except the very last one—the one closest to the ballroom.

Bingo.

We'll each separately excuse ourselves, make our way into the office, have a moment together, and return like nothing ever happened.

Maybe it's dumb.

But maybe I need to do it anyway.

Is it the secret that makes this so exciting? The thrill of doing something so illicitly wrong?

I mean, sure—for tonight, that's why I can't see the night ending any other way.

But when I think about holding her as we fell asleep last night on my couch, I know it's so much bigger than an illicit secret. It's the two of us, raw and pure, just like we always were together.

I'm addicted to it, and I don't know that I'll ever be able to just give it up.

The press arrives early to grab footage and photos of the event and to interview some of the chair people before the event officially gets underway, and I can physically feel it when she walks in.

Something shifts in the room, a clear reminder that whatever this is between us…it's powerful.

Real fucking powerful.

I turn around and see her as she stands tentatively in the doorway with Dave, the guy who has been with her before to film video. He's in a tuxedo, too, and I can't help but wonder if he knows about us. I doubt it. She would've told me, I think, the way she told me just after she admitted it to her boss.

I hold it together while she interviews me—at least I think I do. I've grown pretty damn good at putting on the act over the years.

I talk to a few other reporters. Other guests start showing up including players and former players, the coaching staff, the front office staff, stakeholders and their families, local celebrities including Troy Bodine of the Vegas Heat—who I still haven't met for dinner—Cooper Noah and Danny Brewer, his third and first baseman, Mark Ashton and Ethan Fuller, lead singer and lead guitarist of the band Vail, and, of course, the fans who ponied up the dough for this event.

It"s a five-star event in every way, and meanwhile I'm over here like a horny fucking teenager who feels ready to blow his load in his pants if he can't get up into his girlfriend right quick.

I need to do this before my parents get here—before even more eyes are on me.

I glance over and see her talking to Austin Fucking Graham again. He's flirting, and she's smiling, and I want to fucking murder him.

It's wrong. He's a player. She's not interested.

I wish I could walk over there and claim her as mine.

I need her.

Now.

I'm not sure what comes over me in that moment—maybe it's jealousy that she's talking to Graham, maybe it's pure, unadulterated lust, maybe it's the fact that my parents haven't shown up yet, or maybe it's because people are still mingling ahead of dinner—but now is the time, and I send her a covert text.

Me: There's an office down the hallway toward the gardens. First door on the right coming out of the ballroom. Now.

I excuse myself to Sam, who just watched me type out that text, and she rolls her eyes.

"I'll hold down the fort, Coach," she says, and maybe I need to slip her some extra cash for being so amenable to this whole deal.

She really loves Jolene, and for that, I'm eternally grateful.

Because I really love Jolene, too.