The locker room was insane. We had bulldozed the Warriors by twenty-one points. Our defense had let them add a few touchdowns on the board, but that shit happens.

Coach could barely bark out his victory speech over all the music and dancing. I was surrounded by a bunch of happy, naked bastards. It felt good to win.

But she was in the back of my mind. There was no way I could walk into the dance squad locker room. And I had no idea where in the hell it was in this dungeon they called an AFA stadium. There were tunnels and hallways under the stands that I had never explored. We took one path in from the bus and the same one back out. It never occurred to me that I might need to know my way around.

That was the question. Did I need to know where she was? Was I actually thinking about poking around this place until I found her? I buttoned my shirt in front of the mirror, my hair still wet from the shower.

Yeah, I did want to find her. But it was going to be nearly impossible. And the guys would give me hell.

Things from last night started to make more sense now. We hadn’t stumbled upon just any stunning group of women at the bar. We had been smacked over the head by the enemy’s dance team. Now I knew why they all looked like models. The hair, the makeup, the perfume, and the tight clothes. It suddenly came into focus.

And then I thought about Natalia. She didn’t fit with the rest of them. She was wearing workout clothes. She barely had on a trace of makeup, and I never got the feeling she was there to impress anyone. Hell, if she did know who I was, she did a fucking incredible job of being unimpressed.

I stuffed my jersey in the bag labeled Hickson and threw it on the cart for the trip back to San Antonio. The equipment guys were scurrying around the locker room, collecting shoes, shoulder pads, and helmets.

Most of the players had started to make their way to the bus. We were headed straight for the team jet at the airport. There was no reason to spend another night in Austin when we could take a twenty-minute flight back. If I was going to try to find her, this was it. I had about ten minutes I could use up while the team filed onto the bus.

I darted out of the locker room and jogged toward the signs for the Warriors. It was a start. I hoped I found the dancers before I ran into one of the other players. I wasn’t welcome here, especially after our win tonight.

The lights flickered overhead. Crews in yellow jackets stacked chairs and toted bags past me. I kept running, stopping every few steps to check a hallway or door for any sign of the squad.

I didn’t have anything planned. Did I ask for her number? Did we talk about last night? Did we talk about the fact that we were on opposing teams? I didn’t give a shit. I wanted to just talk. That was why I was running through this labyrinth.

But it didn’t matter what corner I turned or where I looked, I couldn’t find the dancers’ locker room. I saw the cornerback who had tackled me strutting toward me. Damn it.

I turned quickly.

“Hickson, you’re in the wrong part of the stadium. Did you lose your way, little girl?”

I grinned. “Nah. I’m good.”

I wasn’t going to run away from the asshole, but I wasn’t about to start a fight either. Our bus was waiting.

“Sure about that?” He caught up to me.

I was easily a few inches taller than him, and I could knock him to the ground with one good swing. But I wasn’t looking for a league fine. I was looking for a girl.

“I’m good, man. I guess I walked out of the locker room the wrong way. My bad.”

“It is your bad.” He stepped in front of me.

I huffed. He was eating up minutes and the bus would be filled by the time I got there.

It was instinct, but I pulled my shoulders back. “Look, man. The bus is waiting. I’m just trying to get home. Not here to cause problems.”

This would cost me my bonus. I wasn’t going to hit him. I stood down.

One of his teammates walked up behind him. “Get your ass in the locker room, Floyd.”

“Just talking to Sam here.” He cracked a smile, but we both knew he was ready to rip into me. He talked shit, but he also backed it up.

“See you next month, Floyd.” I waved. We would have a rematch in four weeks.

The guy nodded at me, and I took that as my cue to walk to the Wranglers’ bus. My side trip around the stadium was over. I wasn’t going to find Natalia tonight. I ran through the corridors, pissed at myself for searching for her. Pissed I couldn’t find her. Pissed I couldn’t have last night again.