Free Winning Pass - A Football Romance by Kerrigan Grant

imagination any, especially when she leans forward, getting all animated with how she talks. Her hands start gesturing, and they accidentally push more of her delicious-looking freckled cleavage out into view. I don’t think she realizes it, so I try my best not to stare and give it away. Hey, I’m allowing myself this one little thing because I’m not really sure Paige is on the same wavelength as I am right now.
    It’s a constant battle in my head because I’m digging the conversation between us. Hell, I’m even enjoying it. But every time Paige wraps her lips around her straw for a drink, or bites them, as she has a habit of doing, I’m having to tell myself to calm down and to stop imagining her full, red lips around my cock.
    When we get back into the car, the topic turns to how my football career is doing, and the anxiety is already starting to wash over me. “Call me crazy, but you don’t seem too happy when you’re talking about football.”
    Crazy? Nope, not even in the slightest. She’s hit the nail right on the head. “It’s just not something I always like to chat about, is all. I guess I’m just a private person.”
    Paige rolls her eyes. “A private person? You? Never. I bet it gets pretty lonely there at your house, though, with all that huge space just for yourself . . . and the occasional guest, I guess.”
    I look over at her and take stock of how her cheeks are flushed. Yeah, no wonder she is feeling more open to saying whatever she wants. “I wouldn’t say lonely, but sometimes, I get bored. Then I remember I have a shit ton of books to read or something else I can do by myself. Then it’s all good again.”
    “A shit ton of books, huh? I saw a few. They were all first editions, right? Man, I didn’t see that one coming. I wish that I could have a huge library of my own. I would never get bored.”
    I think about the big empty space in my house that she’s referring to and how much she likes books. A room that I have on the second story starts to spring to the front of my mind, the half-empty shelves, the dusty surfaces . . . and I smile to myself. The words tumble from my mouth before I get a chance to grasp onto them. “I can show you something else in my house that I think you’ll really like.” God help me. Please tell me I do not sound like the psychopath I just imagined myself sounding like.
    Paige fumbles around with her small purse, clasping it shut, then open, over and over again, before finally looking back up at me. “Well, I’m not busy doing anything else tonight, so . . . okay.”
    My heart is racing during the remainder of the ride home, as though I’m getting ready to go skydiving or something extreme like that, when in reality, I’m just spending time with Paige in my house. Alone.
    I try to play it off when my hand shakes as I put in the code for the side door. The latch slides open, and I pull the door toward us, letting Paige in first. As I close the door behind us, I turn and am met with those insanely beautiful blue eyes of hers looking up at me.
    It’s only a moment, but I take in the way a few strands of red hair stick out from the rest, how even in the dim lighting from the kitchen we just walked into, I can see a hint of blue in her eyes. And my hands are yearning so badly to pull her toward me, to finally touch what I have only been able to fantasize about all these years. It takes every bit of strength in me to hold my ground. I don’t want to scare her, and I don’t know if she’s ready for that next step.
    Thank God, because Paige is nowhere near as hesitant as I am. She surprises me by walking right up to me and throwing her arms around me, pausing only one small second and letting her luscious lips hover over mine before she goes in for the kill.

11

Paige
    T here are a million tiny thoughts rushing through my mind that tell me—no, scream at me—to kiss Elijah. The young girl that remembers those sweet kisses from our childhood. The woman