“Any team you guys face will be in trouble. They’ll be yours without a fight, that’s for sure. Because when you really turn it on, no one can resist or deny the fact that you are fucking champions! Cheers to the Mavericks! The best goddamn football team in the world!”
Mind running on overdrive, I listened to the ending words of Six’s tipsy congratulations speech with my hand frozen around my beer and a hard jaw. Most of the words she’d used had been ones I’d heard before—specifically, when they’d been coming out of my own mouth—and the amount of time it took me to realize was embarrassingly short.
They were instantly recognizable.
The truth was I’d used them more than once, more than about Six, and the taste of their tone felt horrendously rotten when they were coming out of someone else’s mouth.
Shit.
She raised her glass, hard, challenging eyes on me, but I stared up at her, refusing to wilt. The thing about being a member of the Phillips family was that you sometimes put your foot in your mouth. You said things that felt good in the moment, and you owned them completely. You said what you said, no matter the shittiness, and you couldn’t take them back.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t attempt to make up for them.
Knowing I’d committed a wrong against a person who didn’t deserve it, I tried to meld my face into something of an apology, but her acceptance wasn’t there.
She knocked back the last of her drink and set it gently on our table before climbing out of the booth. She waved her goodbyes, a small smile curving one corner of her mouth with false sincerity, and moved toward the front entrance of the bar.
The rest of the guys were completely over her departure, Quinn especially, as he was enamored with the line of Cat’s neck.
A twinge of unknowns rippled through me, but I pushed it aside. I knew the feeling of being skin-on-skin with a woman of Six’s physical caliber, but I’d never even attempted something with a woman of her worth.
Not that those women hadn’t tried.
I just didn’t want it. I was young and successful, and a career in football wouldn’t last for forever. I didn’t need a family making me homesick and pulling my focus. I didn’t need sick kids to worry about while I was away or recitals to miss.
I needed to focus on myself, and I needed to fuck. The two of those together were like a secret recipe for success on the field. The more I philandered in my extracurricular, ahem, activities, the more big plays I made in games.
It wasn’t a life plan likely to win me any humanitarian awards, but it sure as hell was fun.
I shoved out of the booth and pushed past my lingering teammates as I navigated a course to follow Six and headed for the front entrance. It was crowded with fans and players alike, but I smiled politely and kept moving. Anytime anyone looked particularly eager, I told them I’d be right back, hoping to soften the disappointment of my disappearance.
When I’d first joined the Mavericks, I hadn’t cared all that much about fan outreach. The game was about more to me than fame. It always had been.
Something about having injured my ACL in a way that called my future in football into question had changed my respect for the opportunity to play and forced me to dive into it headfirst.
I wanted to make big plays and enjoy myself in every game. I wanted to know how lucky I was but stay focused enough to remember it was a job. I wanted to have absolutely no regrets if an injury took me out of this life I was living tomorrow.
But Quinn’s attention to fans had rubbed off on me. Apparently, I’d spent enough time with the bastard that it was unavoidable.
By the time I made it out to the lobby, Six’s location was notably less obvious. I felt desperate as I searched the vast space, knowing she could be nearly anywhere by now. My eyes bounced from person to person, searching for her wild curls and tiny little body, and finally landed on her as she stood waiting at the bank of elevators just past the main lobby.
“Six!” I yelled, calling the attention of more than just her, but achieving my objective all the same.
She followed my voice until her eyes locked with mine, and I moved toward her quickly. My legs churned through a jog, and I made quick work of the distance, stopping mere inches from where she stood.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said and nodded, but then thought better of it and shook my head slightly. “Well, no… I just wanted to…”
“You wanted to?”
“Apologize.”
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “For what, exactly?”
“You know what,” I responded. “I know you overhead me talking to the guys that first day at the stadium.”
She shrugged and stepped forward to press the call button for the elevators. “It’s fine.”
“No.” I shook my head again. “It’s not fine. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.”
I smiled knowingly. “Pretty sure you were eavesdropping for a good reason, though.”
She grinned in response. “Well, I have to admit, it was kind of hard not to when I heard my name leave your lips.”
“I’m really sorry about that.”
“Sorry you said those things?” she questioned and then put a defiant hand on her little hip. “Or just sorry that I heard you saying those things?”
She didn’t back down, and she didn’t mince words. The honest challenge was so refreshing.
“Both.”
The elevator dinged its arrival, and my lips turned down at the corners before I could stop them. I wasn’t sure what I was disappointed about, but the emotion was strong and swirling about in my stomach.
I stared at her pouty, pink lips for a moment too long, but I couldn’t help it.
I wondered if they felt as soft and perfect as they looked.
“Consider your apology accepted,” she said and took one step into the elevator. “Anyway,” she said with a shrug and dropped her voice to a sexy, silky rasp that seemed to have a dedicated path straight to my cock. “You need to understand one thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“You couldn’t handle me,” she whispered, and my back snapped straight.
I couldn’t handle her?
Fuck, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get on my knees and worship at her feet or hop into the elevator, carry her to my room, and spend the next eight hours proving her wrong.
She took two steps into the elevator cart, and I heard her finger tap the button for her floor.
All the while her mesmerizing gaze stayed locked with mine.
Just as the doors started to close, she smiled, winked, and said, “Goodnight, Sean.”
The big metallic doors closed with a thud, and without hesitation, I fell to my knees and brought my clasped hands to my chest.
Sure, it was over the top, but I gave zero fucks.
I’d never in my life had a woman challenge me like Six Malone just had.
“Dear Lord in Heaven,” I prayed. “Tell her to get ready.”
She was going to need God on her side from here on out. A gauntlet had been thrown, and there was no turning back now.
Get ready, Six. You’ll be mine.