Ten
Porter
I rushed to shower and change after the game.
Three hours of being near Asher—in that outfit, no less—but not being actually by her, was certainly wreaking havoc on me. Her eyes had been on me nearly the entire game. Even if I didn’t see it, I could feel that shit.
I felt it when her eyes rested on me. When they followed me.
And now I wanted my eyes on her and only her.
“Be careful out there, Portsy,” Nico laughed behind me as I was pulling my shoes back on.
“’Member what I told you,” Ant piped in, walking in from his post-game interview. According to him and Nico, it wouldn’t be long before the networks would want to talk to me, all sweaty and grody, right after games. I much preferred talking after I had a chance to shower.
I just shook my head at the both of them, attempting to ignore them. I pulled on my suit jacket and grabbed my wallet, stuffing it in my back pocket, and ran my hand through my still drying hair.
“Wrap it, kid!” came from the depths of the locker room. Jansen, I thought.
What the fuck, Nico?
He probably told anyone and everyone who listened, that I had a girl over this weekend.
I held my hand over my head, the bird proudly flying, and headed toward the double doors separating the lockers from the rest of the after-game frenzy. I was sure to fold my finger back down before exiting the doors though.
Didn’t need to deal with that PR disaster.
I walked through the ongoing interviews—one with Coach, another with Armstrong—and ignored my name being called. I smiled and nodded, but I had places to be. When I neared Melissa, she waved.
“You up for a chat?” she asked with a smile on her face. That was her code word for interview.
I shook my head. “Sorry, Mel, not tonight. Places to be.” I continued walking.
Her smile fell slightly but returned quickly. “Alright, well, good game tonight.”
“Thanks,” I said, lifting my hand as I continued on my way.
I had given at least one interview after every game since the moment I joined this club, but one night wasn’t going to hurt my reputation. Not in the least.
Asher was going to meet me in the lobby near the elevator banks that would take us down to the garage. I pushed through the exit doors at the end of the hall and ran up the stairs, my dress shoes clunking as I cleared the stairs two at a time.
I walked down the small expanse of hallway there and pushed through the next door, now entering the lobby on the far side—the quiet side. From here, I could see fans milling about in the open area, kids being lined up for school buses to take them back to their schools, and finally, my eyes landed on Asher. She was standing by herself near the elevator I pointed out to her earlier this afternoon before walking her to her seat.
I guided the door shut behind me so it wouldn’t make a noise, quietly allowing me to take her im.
She was hot.
Shit, no. That sounded wrong even in my head.
She was fucking gorgeous.
In the outfit she had on; in the hoodie she wore last night; with her face tired as she and I talked early this morning.
It was a very guy thing of me to think, but there you had it.
She had the blazer pulled closed in front of her as she crossed her arms, but she didn’t look uncomfortable or put out.
And there she stood, by herself, watching others as I was watching her, and it hit me square in the gut—
It may have been an unintentional solo trip, but that girl over there at the other side of the room? She came to visit me. Who cared about the logistics and that Ace had planned this, using her super Spidey senses I was sure, but Asher was here, and she was here for me. If she had wanted a way out of this trip, she could have easily figured something out after Ace abandoned her at the airport.
I stepped away from the door, more than ready to close the distance between us.
Halfway there, her attention turned to me. The smile on her face was small, but her face lit up upon seeing me.
Yep. I liked this girl, and she liked me.
“You played well,” she spoke over the ongoing chatter, walking toward meet me.
“Yeah, there were some things I could have done better though.” I stopped just shy of her and she did the same. Without her heels, Asher stood a head shorter than me but in them, it brought her eyes nearly to nose level. If she tilted her head just a little, her lips…
I shook off the thought and continued to take her in, now that she stood so near. Her arms were still crossed over her chest. “You cold?”
I could totally pull off this gentleman act. I lifted my hands, bringing them to the lapels of my jacket.
She shook her head. “I’m good.”
Well, shit. I’d been all ready to take off my jacket and give it to her.
“Hungry?” I asked, stuffing my hands in my pants pockets.
…And all she did was nod. To be fair, I was asking short questions. I’d have to work on that.
This was awkward. I wasn’t sure what the correct protocol here was.
Did I hold her hand? Put my hand on her back and guide her, like I often saw my brother, Cael, do with his wife? Or just walk by her side, like we were old friends?
Unsure, I just nodded my head in the direction I came. “This way.”
And so we walked, next to one another like we were ‘ol’ buddy ol’ pals,’ while her arms were crossed over her stomach tightly. I wondered how I could possibly lighten the mood.
When we reached the door, I pressed a code into the keypad and pushed at the door too soon. With my momentum from trying to walk, my knee slammed into the door while my nose was almost flattened in the same breath. “Fuck,” I mumbled.
Real smooth, Prescott.
And she laughed.
It was quiet and muffled but shit, she laughed, and I felt it.
I grinned over my shoulder at her, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” At least I lightened the mood.
I reached over to re-punch in the code, this time waiting for the tell-tale click before pushing the door open, allowing Asher to walk through the doorway before I did.
She glanced over at me before we headed down the stairs. “Are you okay? Your knee?” she asked. Her arms loosened from around her, but they were still crossed.
I nodded at her question. “I’m good. Are you?”
Was she uncomfortable? Apparently not as much as she’d been in the lobby, because the hold was looser, but still…she held herself and I wanted to know how to fix it.
That was quite the kicker, I had to admit to myself.
My only serious relationship had been back home with Mo, and even then…she and I had been friends with benefits, with a fancy label attached. There were things we went through, yeah, that I tried to shield her from—things that involved police and her elite cheer team, to mention the smallest of the offenses—but never before had I been so focused on wanting to fix something for a girl.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
I slowed my steps once we reached the stairs, unsure how Asher would fare them in her heels. I let her have the side of the stairs with the railing, and walked next to her the entire trip down, the click of her heels matching the thud of my own shoes. She kept an arm in front of her, keeping the blazer pulled closed, and used the other to guide along the railing. My hand itched to go to her elbow or back, but again, I was struck with the knowledge that I wasn’t quite sure how to proceed where Asher was concerned.
“You seem to know what you’re doing,” I said, breaking the otherwise silent stairwell. “Walking, I mean. In your heels. I mean, considering you don’t wear them ever.” Fuck that up much, Prescott?
“My arches kill though,” she stated with a sigh when we finally reached the last step. “I’ll be excited to take them off.”
“You could have brought your boots. I wouldn’t have minded.”
She smiled and shook her head, not saying anything. This time, as we walked down the hall and toward the garage, I let my hand move to her lower back. When she startled, I nearly took my hand away but she relaxed quickly, even going as far as letting go of her blazer.
That’s right, Prescott. You got this.
For not normally wearing heels, she looked fucking fantastic walking in them. I tried hard to keep my attention forward and not on her, but it was difficult. The added height brought her forehead in line with my lips, and I found I wanted to press them there.
Hold her. Kiss her.
“We don’t have to do dinner,” she said, bringing me back to the here and now. “It was fun just coming to the game. I’m sure you have things you’ll need to do tonight and in the morning.”
“Oh, we’re doing dinner,” I answered, before back pedaling quickly. “What I meant was, I want to take you to dinner. We have reservations.”
The garage was starting to get busy, my teammates and some of the other team staff heading home for their early evenings. Usually we didn’t get out of here until well into the night. As it was, it was seven. Plenty of time for everyone to get home and do…whatever it was they did at home.
Some of the guys shouted their goodbyes, some going as far as revving their cars in the garage—something they’d likely get a notice about at practice tomorrow afternoon. I said my goodbyes and walked Asher to Nico’s car, opening the unlocked passenger door for her.
“For you,” I said, finally taking my hand from her back and gracing her with a mock bow.
I earned another smile from this mysterious girl with the psychedelic eyes; I was starting to count them, they were so rare.
She slipped past me and sat in the passenger seat, rearranging the blazer shut in front of her as I closed her in.
But not before I got a look down her cleavage.
It was unintentional!
But it was there, and suddenly I was reminded of the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra and fuck, I was sporting chub again.
I rolled my eyes heavenward, praying for the strength to get through dinner.
And tonight.
And tomorrow.
And the next day.
Fuck it. I just needed to get through all of it sane and without embarrassing myself.
Good luck, Prescott.