Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
16
HOUSTON
Three thirty came way too early, especially after the railing I’d given Cullen last night. I was hurting plenty and was pretty sure I was sporting a couple of bruises on my biceps, possibly a few on my shoulders. Being unexpectedly cut off from the pretty spectacular sexual arrangement we had going had made us both a little more aggressive.
I crawled blearily out of the bed, quiet as possible so as not to disturb Cullen since he had another hour before he needed to get up for practice, and again, given the intensity of what had transpired hours before, I figured he needed the extra rest.
But when I got out of the shower and opened the bedroom door, Cullen was up and tossing pillows on the bed. He greeted me with an upnod. “There’s coffee for you on the dresser right there.”
“Why are you up?” I frowned at him as I toweled off my hair.
“Because I’m taking my boyfriend to the airport.”
I reached for the coffee, fighting a smile as I shook my head. “You’ll be late.”
“Only by a few minutes, and we’re still gonna smoke Seattle next week, so it’s all good.” His cocky smirk made me want to shove him right back into the bed he was making and go for another round, even if it left me black and blue. But there was no time.
Fuck, I was definitely going to miss his body, though. And I’d gotten way too used to having someone else in my bed.
Once at the airport, Cullen left my car idling and joined me on the curb, shoving his hands in the pockets of his track pants as he glanced at the duffle bag on my shoulder.
“Still can’t believe you’ve got everything in that tiny-ass bag.”
“Enough to get me by for now.” I figured I could grab more stuff the next time I was in Denver, and HR had contacted me after Coach Grant to tell me they had a temporary apartment waiting for me for the remainder of the season, so I didn’t have to worry about that. I could get to know the city and take my time choosing where I wanted to set up permanently. In the meantime, Garrett was going to ship some of my belongings from the apartment to me later in the week.
Cullen’s solemn expression gave me the sense that we were dancing on the edge of a deeper conversation. One I wasn’t sure either of us was prepared for yet. I let the duffle bag slide from my shoulders and cupped Cullen’s face in my hands. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be back to wreck your ass again before you know it.” My tone was meant to be teasing, but the term of endearment didn’t feel as out of place or silly as I’d expected it to.
Cullen’s brows shot up, mirth twinkling in his eyes. “Promises, promises,” he murmured, then grabbed me by the nape of the neck and pulled me closer, lips crashing firmly against mine for a few breathless seconds before he released me and glanced around. “See, where the hell are the paps when you need them? That was the perfect goddamn tender moment.” He threw up his hands, then cupped them to his mouth, shouting. “Anyone see me kissing my boyfriend, former Rush wide receiver Houston McRae?”
“Jesus Christ, Atwood!” A security guard near the doors looked sternly at us, along with a few other people, but Cullen was laughing as he ducked my shove, and I couldn’t help but join him. “You’re an idiot.” I pulled him in for another hug, then exhaled and picked up my bag. It was time to do this. “Don’t suck at the next game,” I told him.
“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he replied with a wink, then smirked. “Don’t suck at coaching.”
I landed in LA at 11:00 a.m. and was on the field at LA’s practice facility an hour and a half later. They’d thrown me straight into the fire, but I had Coach Grant with me giving me the lowdown, along with the offensive coordinator, and I knew LA’s game well; I’d had an eagle eye on them for years. Even more so over the past six months when I’d set my sights on them and had started hearing rumors they were looking for a new wide receiver coach for the next season. But even given the mental prep, I was caught totally off guard by the chaos of it all and the shortened timeline.
Molly squeezed my shoulder and handed me a water bottle as I watched one of the special teams execute a new play. “Your shoulders are hugging your ears, Houston. Relax. You’ve got this. You know the team, know the game, and these guys already know you, too.” I took a swig of water and forced my shoulders to drop. She had a point, but I also had mere days to integrate myself into the team before Sunday’s game rather than a whole summer of training camp and practice to build rapport. “After this, you’re going to debrief with all the staff, and not gonna lie, it’s gonna be a few hours. But after that, I’ll take you to the apartment and, if you’re really lucky, out to dinner after that.”