The Toughest Play

12. Autumn

CHAPTER 12

AUTUMN

I snapped pictures and put up posts on social media throughout the game. It’s one of the ways my boss, Charlie, and I came up with to improve the social media pages for the team. Some people don’t watch every game but they still like to see what’s going on. By continuously posting highlights, I help those fans feel invested.

Frankie and Lisa have been filming a lot of footage that I’ll review and edit into posts later on. There’s a lot of Rogan to choose from since he was in for a good portion of the game. My heart raced anxiously the entire time he was out there. Watching Brett didn’t have the same effect on me, so I can’t fool myself into thinking it was just me feeling nerves for the entire team.

I was torn between my work responsibilities and watching Rogan. Every fan here and at home could clearly see the love he has for this game. It showed in the intensity with which he played and the smile that beamed out between the carbon steel bars of his face mask with every touchdown he threw. I had to keep glancing away to type out replies to post comments. I don’t know if my thumbs have ever tapped out words so quickly for fear I’d miss something.

We step into the locker room to get some post-game material, and I come to a sudden halt. Lisa barely misses walking into my back and Frankie into hers, but I’m too preoccupied with the view in front of me to notice. There are muscular and sweaty shirtless men everywhere I look.

Thank you, Lord. I feel like I’ve died and gone to Heaven.

“Holy hotness,” Lisa mutters under her breath.

“Get some footage of them. Keep it clean,” I say.

“Do we have to?” Lisa jests.

I focus in on a head of damp, dark-brown hair before my gaze lowers to a set of broad shoulders. My eyeballs are drawn downward to a drool-worthy set of abs and then I start to inwardly battle with myself.

Look lower.

No! I’m here in a professional capacity.

When the universe presents you an opportunity to check out a hot man’s goods, you take it.

But it’s not only that he’s hot, because I’m not interested in looking at the rest of the players’ “goods” at all.

Hurry up and look while you can.

I feel like a creeper.

If the situation were reversed, he’d be looking.

He absolutely would be. And it’s that thought that spurs my eyes into motion. Inch by glorious inch, they move down his golden skin until I see a generous bulge filling out the area between his powerful thighs. The tight fit of his compression shorts can’t hide what he’s packing. His thumbs dip inside the waistband, and a wave of heat assails me. Is he going to remove them? I’m flushed and weak-kneed as I wait to see. A few more seconds pass and he still doesn’t make a move to push them down. My eyes sweep upward to his face, where I find his gaze locked on me and an amused smirk twisting his lips. Dropping my chin to my chest, I stare at the new pair of red Chucks I purchased last week. With the way my cheeks are burning up, I bet they match them.

“Fancy meeting you here, Fall,” Rogan says, and my head snaps back up. He’s standing in front of me and his smirk is still present.

I roll my eyes. “Still not letting that go, huh?”

“It’s a great nickname.”

“Says you.”

“What’s with the horrible shirt?” he asks.

I glance down at my Silverbacks jersey. “What’s wrong with it?”

“The name and number are all wrong.”

I’m wearing a Moore jersey that Scarlett bought me just to piss Brett off. “How do you figure?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“It has the wrong name on it.”

“Really? So what would be the right one?”

He grins. “O’Rourke, of course.”

I roll my eyes and give a quick shrug of my shoulders. “Well, this is the only one I have.”

“That’s a shame. So, did you enjoy the game?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“What are you doing after you leave here?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“I’m having some of the guys over to my house. I’ve got some burgers and dogs to grill, and we can hang out on the beach.”

“Have fun,” I say.

“I think you misunderstood. I was inviting you.”

“Oh.”

“You can bring Scarlett, too, if that will make you more comfortable.”

As tempting as his offer might be, I probably shouldn’t. It’s one thing to go over there as repayment for a favor, like I did the other night, but that situation is over and done with. There’s no reason for me to accept this invitation aside from wanting to.

“Autumn, there you are. I was looking for you,” Brett says. He leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek. With my gaze still on Rogan, I witness the flattening of his lips and the narrowing of his eyes. He’s visibly annoyed.

Brett straightens back up and glances at Rogan. “O’Rourke, I didn’t see you there.”

“Well, now you do. Autumn and I were in the middle of a conversation.” Rogan’s smile is tight.

“We’ll talk later,” Brett says, touching my arm.

I nod and say, “Okay.” But I have no intention of speaking with him later or any other time. After he stopped by my house last week and guilted me into posting about him, I was so disappointed in myself. My days of being used by Brett are over.

Rogan shakes his head as he watches him walk away.

“I should get back to work,” I say.

He nods. “Yeah. Coach is about to round us up anyway.”

“Congratulations on the win.”

“Thank you.” He smiles, and we go in separate directions. I wander through the sea of large, muscular men in search of Frankie and Lisa. When I finally find them, Lisa looks a little dazed.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m wonderful. Just trying to take it all in so I can remember this as a highlight of my life when I’m an old lady.”

I laugh. “This is only the first of many locker room visits to come.”

She places her hand on her chest. “Then I may not survive the entire season. I don’t think my heart has ever beat at such an elevated tempo. Not even when I’m exercising.”

“How are you doing, Frankie?” I ask.

“I’m good.”

“Are you as excited to be in here as Lisa is?”

“Yeah, but not for the same reason,” he says. “Some of these guys are like heroes to me. They’ve been playing for the Silverbacks since I was a kid.”

At only twenty-one, he still seems like a kid to me, even though I’m only five years older.

I get some quotes from a few players from the defense to use with some of the action shots I took. Lately, I’ve been focusing more on the offense, and I want to make sure I’m being fair to the whole team.

We leave the locker room and it’s a quick walk to my office. Frankie uploads all the footage to my laptop before he takes off.

“Lisa, you can get out of here too.”

“Are you sure? I’m happy to help.”

“I’m positive.”

She smiles. “Okay, cool. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Focusing on my work, I’m able to knock it out in much less time than I anticipated. I turn off my laptop, and I’m gathering up my things when my phone chimes.

Rogan: Are you coming over?

Propping my hip on the side of my desk, I read through his text three more times before I type out a reply.

Me: I don’t think so.

Why not?

Why do I need a reason?

Because I want you here.

As sweet as his words are, I just spent the last five hours surrounded by other people and I might need some time alone.

I’m just leaving the stadium now. I’ll see how I feel once I’m home.

I have leftover sundae supplies.

That is tempting. I really love ice cream. Especially on a hot day. My stomach growls, reminding me I haven’t eaten aside from the protein bar I had on the way to the stadium.

I’ll see how I feel once I’m home.

I really want you to come, but I’ll forgive you if you don’t.

How generous of you.

I’m picturing your grumpy expression as you typed that reply.

Did you picture me holding up my middle finger too?

No. But you may have been topless.

I laugh out loud and hurriedly look around, as if he can see me. He can’t know how funny I found that text to be. I’d never hear the end of it.

Let me guess, you’re too busy laughing to reply.

I shake my head. He’s incorrigible and annoying at the same time. He’s also kind of adorable.

Nope. I didn’t even crack a smile.

Liar!

I’ve gotta run.

Drive safe.

Aww, that’s sweet.

I will.

Slipping from my desk, I shut off the light and close up my office. I exchange polite smiles with everyone I see on the way out to my car.

Luckily, the fans have all left the stadium, so there’s no line of traffic for me to sit in while I’m trying to leave the parking lot. The drive home is uneventful aside from me belting out the lyrics to some of my favorite songs.

When I pull in the driveway, Scarlett is watering the flowers in the window boxes. While we both take turns tending to them, she’s the one with the green thumb. She’s winding up the hose when I exit my car. I hip check the door closed and smile at my best friend. Tall and willowy, wearing a red bikini top and cutoff jeans, she’s most men’s version of the perfect woman.

“Hey, you,” I call out as I walk up the driveway.

She gives the handle a final crank and smiles at me. “How was the game?”

I pause at the edge of the walkway. “It was good. We won.”

“That’s great.”

“It’s only preseason but they looked pretty good… except for Brett.”

She snaps her fingers. “Oh darn.”

I laugh. “You could try a little harder to look convincing.”

Shrugging, she walks my way. “It would be wasted effort. You know I loathe him.”

“True.”

She stops when she reaches me. One of her dark eyebrows rises before she asks, “How did Rogan play?”

“He was great.”

She grins. “That’s fantastic.”

I know her happiness has more to do with how much she dislikes Brett than her love for the team. She has no interest in football, or any other sport for that matter, beyond checking out the athletic men who play.

“Yeah, he was pretty pumped after the game.”

Her eyes spark with interest. “You spoke with him?”

“It’s my job, Scar.”

“Are you saying you only talked about the game?” I fidget under her close scrutiny. “I’m waiting.” She pushes for my reply.

“No. He invited me… I mean us, over to his place for a cookout.”

She squeals. “When?”

“Now.”

“What are you doing? Why aren’t you inside getting ready?”

“I told him I probably wasn’t going.”

“A hot, nice guy invites you over and you say no? Why would you do that?”

“I’ve had to deal with people all day. I was looking forward to some decompressing.”

“You can hermit another time. We’re going, so get your juicy ass in the house and change.” She points toward the door.

I groan as I trek along the walkway. “You’re mean.”

She prods the middle of my back, urging me to move faster. “Someday you’ll thank me for making you go.”

“That’s doubtful.” I open the front door and step inside. The cool air hits me, and I sigh with relief. “Don’t make me go back out in that heat.”

“Oh, you’re going. And once you see him half naked on the beach, you’ll be overheating for another reason.”

“I already saw him half naked,” I retort.

Her eyes look like they’re about to pop from their sockets. “What?”

“In the locker room. It was full of guys with little clothing on.”

“You saw Rogan in his underwear, didn’t you? Boxers or briefs? Wait, don’t answer. Let me guess. He’s a boxers guy, right? No tighty whitey’s for him.”

“He had compression shorts on, so I couldn’t tell.”

“How did he look?”

“Freaking perfect,” I answer without hesitating.

“You’re one lucky bitch to be able to go in their locker room. That’s like entering a secret society.”

I laugh. “Don’t make it more than it was, which was actually kind of smelly and loud.”

She flattens her lips and blinks slowly. “Yeah. I bet that’s what you noticed while you were in there.”

My phone chimes in my hand.

Rogan: Have you left yet?

He’s certainly persistent.

Me: Nope.

Come on. Don’t ruin my day.

“What’s he saying?” Scarlett asks, snatching my phone from my hand before I can reply. She reads through the texts and glances at me. “You’re going over there.” Her thumbs start tapping over the screen.

“What are you writing?” I reach for the device, and she raises it over her head, continuing to type. At only two inches shy of six feet, she’s got seven inches on me. There’s no way I can get my hands on it. “You better go get ready.”

“What did you do?” I ask, and she passes my phone back to me. Holding my breath, I read her reply.

See you soon.

Every bit of air in my lungs expels in a whoosh as panic sets in. “Scar. How could you do this to me?”

“I think you mean for you. This is a good thing, Autumn. You’re just having a little freak out right now.”

“No, I’m having a big fucking freak out. I can’t go to the beach with a bunch of football players.”

“Sure you can. And you will.”

My eyelids fall closed for a few seconds. When they open, I stare imploringly at Scarlett. “Don’t make me do this.”

“Autumn, you never give a shit about what anyone thinks, so why is this different?”

“Don’t know,” I mumble.

She tilts her head. “I think you do, and I want to hear you say it.”

I can tell by the obstinate set of her jaw, she’s not going to let this go.

“I like him and I don’t want him to see me in my bathing suit. Okay? Are you happy now?”

“Yes, that you finally admitted your feelings, but I hate you feeling insecure about your body. You’re fucking gorgeous with your curves.”

“Curves?” I snort. “That’s an understatement. My ass is so round, it’s like a shelf. I’d probably be really successful as a waitress. I could carry drinks on a tray and my ass at the same time.”

Scarlett laughs. “You’re so fucking ridiculous, but I love you anyway. I’d trade my boyish body for yours in a heartbeat.”

“Why? You’re built like a model. Everything you wear looks fantastic.”

“But I’m taller than a lot of guys and I’m built like them too.”

I shake my head. “You’re delusional. You have curves, they’re just more subtle. You look like a graceful ballerina, and I look like a pear.” I snicker.

“Well, I’d rather be a juicy, sweet fruit. And by the way Rogan was looking at you when he was here the other day, he wants to take a bite out of you. Go put on that new, sexy green bathing suit you haven’t worn yet.”

“Uh… I don’t think I’m that brave.”

“What have you got to lose? If you like him and the two of you get to know each other, he’ll see you naked anyway. Might as well take advantage of this opportunity to ease into having less clothing on.”

“You have a point.”

“Of course I do. Now, go get changed so we can head over there. While you’re occupied with Rogan, maybe I’ll find someone to flirt with.”

I blow out a puff of air. “Maybe?” Scarlett is a consummate flirt. She flirts with everyone, me included. Half the time, she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. I joke that it’s part of her DNA, like her icy-blue eyes and dark hair are.

I head into my room and toss my phone on the bed. I can’t believe we’re going to Rogan’s. Actually, that’s not true. I knew as soon as I told Scarlett about the invitation, she was going to make me go. But maybe that’s what I need. Going over to his house for dessert is one thing. Going over for a cookout and to hang out on the beach is another.

Rifling through my dresser drawer, I find the green bathing suit and get changed. Moving over to the full-length mirror, I check myself out. The low cut of the front makes my breasts look even bigger than they are. But maybe if he’s looking at my boobs, he won’t notice my inner thigh chub rub. Turning sideways, I study my profile. Standing as tall as I can, I suck in my stomach, but I still see a roundness there. And my ass—oh God. There’s no way to suck that monstrosity in.

“Autumn, hurry up,” Scarlett yells.

I cover my suit with a pair of black board shorts and a tank top, then slide some flip flops on my feet. I redo the messy bun I threw my hair in earlier today, and slick on some lip gloss. This is as good as it’s going to get. I’m not about to put on a bunch of makeup to go to the beach. And if Rogan doesn’t like what he sees, I’ll be able to tell. One way or another, after today, I’ll know how to proceed when it comes to him.