The Christmas party had continued on well past midnight, and somehow, someway, even Wes Lancaster had turned a blind eye to the boisterous group of men that had taken over the large reception room inside the stadium.
And most of those men were more than just a few beers deep.
Then again, tomorrow was Christmas Eve and the very last week of their season. While most of the teams in the league would be playing their asses off to end their season with a play-off-worthy record, the Mavericks would be sitting pretty with the best damn record in the league and an easy game this weekend against the worst team in professional football.
“Speech! Speech! Speech!” Martinez yelled, beer raised high in the air.
First, Cam, then Quinn joined in, and next thing I knew, the team was all but demanding another speech from me.
I blushed. Which was ironic because I almost never blushed.
I was the girl who had no issues with making a fool of herself at comedy’s expense. Hell, before I’d changed into a pair of jeans and long-sleeved red shirt, I’d spent the better part of the evening waltzing around in a Santa suit, badgering the guys to tell me what they wanted for Christmas.
Yet this, right now, it just felt different. But I guessed a room full of bigger-than-life men showering you with attention would have that effect.
“I already gave a speech, Teeny!” I shouted back, but he just shook his head and waved his beer around a little.
“That was the sugarcoated, professional version because you were surrounded by the stuck-up suits that make up the Mavs organization. Now, it’s time for you to give us your raw, real speech filled with your usual commentary and rambles fueled by f-bombs and feisty little attitude.”
The f-bombs? Yeah, he had me there. But I strongly disagreed with the latter.
“Excuse me,” I said, and with a hand to my hip, I pointed a defiant index finger straight in his direction. “I do not have a feisty little attitude.”
Cam chuckled. “You might be pint-sized, but we’ve all seen you in action.”
“Yeah, little lady,” Martinez agreed. “Mitchell is right. You might be small enough to fit into my fucking pocket, but what you don’t have in size, you make up for in sass and the ability to curse like a sailor, drunk and on leave.”
I rolled my eyes, but then, I took in the sight that was a room full of Mavericks, looking toward me with nothing but acceptance.
Somehow, I’d done what felt impossible.
I’d filmed an entire vlog series with these football gods, and more than that, I’d managed to do it and walk away with several friendships in the process. My eyes briefly flitted back to Sean. I took in his handsome face, and I just felt it. All the way to my fucking toes.
And love. You totally fell in love.
I nearly cringed at the mental admission.
If there was one thing I shouldn’t have done, it was that. I never should’ve let myself get so close to him. And most importantly, I never should’ve let my heart get involved.
I cleared my throat and forced my brain to focus on something less heavy.
And with my glass raised high in the air, I attempted to bring some levity to the situation.
“Even though every single one of you was a pain in my ass at times, I’ve had some serious fun with you guys,” I stated proudly. “Now, I hope you all won’t mind, but since this experience has been so wonderful, I’ve decided to accept Pittsburgh’s offer.”
“What Shitsburgh offer?” Mitchell yelled from the background, and I forced a neutral smile to my face.
“They want me to film a ten-episode series with their team.”
“Are you fucking with us?” Sam Sheffield asked, his mouth paused right above the neck of his beer bottle.
“Why would I be fucking with you?” I questioned and bit back my smile. “They’ve offered me nearly double the amount of money, and they want two extra episodes. It’s a fantastic opportunity.”
“Say it isn’t fucking so, Sixy,” Teeny demanded.
“I thought you guys would be happy for me…”
“I’d be happier if you were heading to Miami… Hell, even Arizona,” Sean said, and his words were a little too firm for my liking. “But Pittsburgh?” he questioned. “I’m not so sure I can let you go spend two months with that team of assholes.”
Teeny looked at me, eyes narrowed. “Say it,” he said. “Say you’re just fucking with us.”
Damn, who would’ve thought the Mavericks would be so territorial?
“All right. So, I might be fucking with you,” I announced and held my index finger and thumb mere centimeters apart. “Just a little bit fucking with you.”
“Just a little bit?” Quinn asked, and his lips crested into a grin. “Or is this like the time you pranked Sean about his propensity for posting pictures of his abs on social media?”
I shrugged. “Okay, maybe I’m fucking with you a lot.”
Several of the guys started to laugh, and Martinez glared.
“You’re an evil, evil woman.”
“Oh, get the fuck over it, Teeny,” I retorted and held my glass high in the air again. “I’d like to propose a toast to the Mavericks. The guys who have won my little heart and will forever be my favorite bunch of assholes in the league! Thank you for letting me film your every move, and sometimes, get away with a few little pranks in the meantime.” I winked and took one last, long look at the group of men.
“So, tonight, I raise my glass with a smile on my face and gratefulness in my heart. Cheers to you guys!” I exclaimed, ending my toast, and then took a hearty drink of my beer.
The guys joined in, raising their glasses in the air toward me and then following my lead.
And before I knew it, Martinez had set his glass down on a table and started stalking toward me.
I attempted to escape him, but for a guy his size, he was too fucking quick. Into his arms and on top of his fucking thick shoulders I went.
With Marty, one of the defensive ends on the practice squad, playing DJ, the music was turned up as loud as it could go while Martinez attempted to moonwalk across the hardwood of the dance floor, with me on his shoulders.
“Teeny!” I shouted over the beat of “Get Lucky.” “You’ve got some moves, my man, but fucking hell, I don’t want an aerial view of it!”
“You like?” he shouted up toward me, and I could see his cheeks lift up in a smile.
“I’d like it a lot better if my feet were firmly on the fucking ground!”
He just laughed me off and proceeded to moonwalk and two-step his way around the dance floor for what felt like forever. By the time I slid my fingers into the hair on top of his head and pulled hard, the song had switched over to one of my favorite Rihanna songs and he was breathing heavy from exertion.
“Ow! Shit!” he groaned and finally got the point. With strong hands and even stronger arms, he lifted me off his shoulders and let my feet touch the ground again.
Thank God.
Before I could start dancing on my own, he wrapped me up tight in his arms and gave me a big old bear hug. “I’m gonna miss you, Sixy,” he said and grinned down at me. “Keep in touch, okay?”
“Definitely.” I nodded. “Bring home a championship?”
He smiled as wide as Texas. “You got it.”
The beat and tempo of the song increased, and my body vibrated with the need to let loose. Between the lyrics of “This Is What You Came For” and Rihanna’s sexy, sultry voice, I couldn’t not dance around to it.
But my solo performance didn’t last long. Another thirty seconds into the song and someone came up behind me, wrapping their arms around my waist and pulling me close to their chest. I leaned my head back to find Sean looking down at me.
“W-what are you doing?” I asked, shocked by his very public display of affection.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been a little too touchy-feely with me at this party.
“I’m dancing with you,” he whispered into my ear, and goose bumps rolled up my spine and down my arms. “I’m dancing with the sexiest woman on the fucking planet.”
My traitorous heart pitter-pattered inside my chest at his words, and the realization of too much PDA between us in front of other people was long forgotten.
Next thing I knew, with hips swaying, I followed his rhythm.
He felt so good wrapped around me. And inside of his arms, I just felt safe; it just felt right.
And I didn’t feel like thinking about saying goodbye.
I didn’t feel like thinking or doing anything besides staying close to him.
So, I did. And we danced until one song bled into the next song and the next.
But my momentary bliss started to fade away as I started to look around the room, and eventually, the reality of our situation began to grow heavy on my shoulders.
No one knew Sean and I had been hooking up.
No one knew we’d had sex or that something had grown between us.
We’d hid it. From everyone.
None of that really mattered, though, because whatever we’d started would come to a screeching halt.
My chest started to grow tight with anxiety, and the inside of my mouth felt dry and scratchy like sandpaper. I needed a drink. And I needed space. And I needed not to feel so many fucking things for Sean.
His dating record had proven he wasn’t the relationship kind of guy, yet I was the relationship kind of girl.
And more than that, I wouldn’t be here anymore, following the team around. I wouldn’t see him on a daily basis, nor would we have hotel rooms and secret doors to hide behind.
Filming was done, and I’d be headed back to San Diego in the morning.
I could fantasize and dream and wish all I wanted, but the facts were pretty clear-cut. The odds of Sean wanting to be in some sort of long-distance relationship were a big fat fucking zero. And sadly, I knew to my core I wouldn’t be able to continue whatever it was we were doing with the reality of understanding that monogamy wasn’t a possibility on his end.
My thoughts had gotten away from me, and I hated myself for even thinking about Sean and relationships in the same sentence.
Rationally, I knew better than that. But my stupid heart seemed to have a hell of a time understanding the certainty of the situation.
I disentangled myself from his arms, and he looked down at me, brow raised.
“I’m going to grab a drink,” I said and didn’t stick around any longer.
I needed to put some distance between us, but I didn’t go to the table where all of the drinks and snacks were located. Straight out of the entrance of the reception room, I found a quiet spot down one of the long corridors that had a gorgeous floor-to-ceiling view of New York City’s skyline.
The lights glimmered and shone, and I just stared off into the distance, taking in the tall skyscrapers and wondering what the hustle and bustle of the city that never sleeps looked like at half past one in the morning on a Saturday night.
“Everything okay?”
Instantly, I froze in my spot. I knew that voice like the back of my hand.
And my traitorous heart, well, she knew the man behind that voice all too well. Hell, she all but jumped out of my chest at his first word.
I just nodded and kept my eyes trained on the cityscape view. “Just needed to cool down for a little bit.”
Sean moved toward me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, tucking me into his side.
And I liked it, too fucking much. He felt too good. This felt too good. And quickly, it became more than I could handle.
My heart responded with an ache and pound and twist inside my chest.
God, I liked him. Way, way too much.
Like him? You’ve fallen for him.
Fuck.
The mere idea of not seeing him on a daily basis was already hard enough. But when I calculated in the fact that whatever had grown between us would now come to a sudden end, it was too much pain for me to physically tolerate.
I disentangled myself from him, and he stared down at me like I’d grown two heads.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, and the concern in his voice made my throat constrict.
“I’m good,” I said and forced a phony-ass smile on my lips. “I’m a little sad to leave you guys, but I’m really excited to finally go back home to California. It’s way more my speed.”
Lies. Lies. Lies.
“Look, Six,” he started, and I watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “We really need to talk.”
I waited for more. But he didn’t offer more. He just stared down at me, his brow furrowed and his full lips fixed into a firm line.
He’s probably just trying to find a way to let you down easy, my mind taunted.
I mean, this was Sean Phillips. The playboy. The famous football player who avoided labels and relationships and commitment. The man most women knew as the manwhore with the big cock.
I mentally grimaced at that thought.
God, I had to get out of here.
I had to find reprieve away from this stadium, away from my thoughts, away from him.
I needed to woman up and just save him the time and hassle of trying to find the right way to end this, whatever the fuck it was.
Forcing a deep inhale into my lungs and long, quiet exhale through my mouth, I steeled myself for what I was about to do.
Up on my tippy toes, I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, and it took all of my strength not to let my lips linger against his skin.
“This has been a lot of fun,” I said and locked my gaze with his. “But I guess it’s time to get back to real life, huh?”
“Get back to real life?” he questioned, and his full, soft, fucking kissable lips turned down at the corners.
God, I’ll miss those lips.
Sorrow pricked behind my eyes, and I had to swallow past the thick emotion lodging itself in my throat.
Just fucking focus, Six.
“You know,” I said and cleared my throat. “Get back to real life.”
He didn’t respond, instead just stared down at me.
“I mean, we both knew whatever was going on between us couldn’t last forever, right?” I tried to lighten the situation, but stiff and stilted and strained, my words felt all wrong.
He looked out through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and I watched the way the lines of his face hardened beneath the shadowed light of the night’s sky. “So, this is goodbye?” he asked and brought his gaze back to mine.
Goodbye.
God, it hurt my heart.
Especially when I had to hear that word leave his lips.
It was much easier to handle coming from my mouth or when it was locked tight inside my head.
“Yeah,” I said, pushing my words past the growing tightness in my throat and chest. “I guess this is goodbye.”
“Take care of yourself, Six,” he said soft as a whisper and wrapped me up in a tight hug.
But the embrace ended quicker than it started. And before I knew it, Sean gave me his official goodbye.
He let me go, and without another word, walked away from me.
A sob threatened to bubble up my throat, but I swallowed hard against the emotional onslaught and held a hand to my lips.
I stared at the skyline for God knows how long. But eventually, the tears pricking behind my eyes became too thick, and I headed in the opposite direction he’d gone and found reprieve inside of a women’s restroom.
Locking myself inside one of the stalls and with my head in my hands, I did the only thing I could do. I cried.
Big fat fucking pathetic tears.
They were there because I would miss him.
They were there because saying goodbye to Sean felt like the hardest thing I’d ever done.
And mostly, they were there because I was a stupid, stupid girl who had let herself fall for a man who never fell for anyone.