Days of You and Me (31 page)

I thought for a minute. “I’m not taken, but I’m not available, either. I’m . . . reserved for the one who can have me the minute she asks.”

In mock outrage, Quinn threw up her hands. “Hey, I offered, didn’t I? I asked. I’m not the one taking sex off the table, buddy. That’s all you.”

“Mia.” Slowly I wagged my head from side to side. “When I said you could have me the minute you asked, I wasn’t talking
sexually
. I meant . . . in a long-term, lifetime, forever kind of way. Why does it always go back to fucking for you? Get your mind out of the gutter, babe.”

I could see her trying to be insulted by my teasing, but finally she couldn’t help giggling. “All right, you caught me. I’ll try to be more like you and think higher thoughts.” Her gaze held mine as she lifted up the strawberry from her bowl of fruit. Parting her lips slightly, she slid the smaller end of the red berry between them, taking a small bite. Juice drizzled over her full bottom lip and onto her chin, and her tongue snaked out to catch it.

My dick was straining at the zipper of my jeans, and I wanted to drop to my knees and weep. “No fair, Mia. Not fucking fair at all.”

Her eyes went wide and innocent. “What? I’m just . . . eating my berry. It’s very juicy. Mmmm . . .” Her eyelids drooped as she popped the rest into her mouth. “So good.”

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” I gripped the edge of the table, frantically trying to think of anything else.
Mini-camp drills. Gut busters. Lines. Bear crawls.

“Now why on earth would I be trying to kill you? I’ve got a vested interest in keeping you alive.” Her smile was simultaneously wicked and serene.

“Huh.” I crossed my arms over my chest and decided to change the subject before I gave into the pulsing need to drag her out of here and into the closest alleyway. “So Asher, your lunch buddy, wasn’t interested in you. Is there anyone else in the city I have to worry about? Any other guys who’re under the false impression they have a shot with you?”

All pretense dropped away, and Quinn shook her head. “No, Leo. I haven’t dated. This was
my
time, remember? I wasn’t out here to troll for men. If I wasn’t working, I was either exploring the city with Kara as my tour guide or camped out in my apartment watching a movie. And most of the time, I was texting you all the while. You know that Zelda and I went to a few clubs while she was here visiting, but if there’s anyone who’s proficient at keeping guys away from us when we don’t want them, it’s Zelda. A few danced nearby, but she never let any of them even buy us drinks, let alone sit at the table with us or—God forbid—lay a finger on us.” She leaned her chin on her hand, her eyes steady on me. “You’re all there is for me, Leo. It’s always been you, and it’s always going to be you. Forever. I don’t even see anyone else. They don’t exist for me.”

I wanted to jump up onto the table and do a dance of victory, but I was pretty sure that would’ve gotten us kicked out. So instead I settled for nodding gravely. “Good to know.”

“What about you?” She played with the green top of her strawberry, not meeting my eyes. “I mean . . . I was married to Nate. If something happened then, it’s okay. I understand. I couldn’t expect you to . . . wait for me. Not under the circumstances. And I know Sarah’s down in Virginia with you, so it would be only natural for you two to be together, even if it was only casual.”

“Hey. Look at me.” I leaned forward and reached to tip her chin up. “Nothing happened between Sarah and me. Nothing at all. She didn’t try to initiate anything, and I sure as hell didn’t. I wasn’t in any place . . .” I thought about last summer, how angry and bitter I’d been. “Well, let’s just say, even if I’d been idiot enough to try something, I wouldn’t have gone through with it. Also, whether you know it or not, Sarah’s your friend. She spent most of the summer telling me that if I didn’t wait for you, she’d personally bash me in the head.” I winced. “Between Sarah and Zelda, they’ve definitely scared me straight when it comes to you. If I ever fucked up and hurt you, what was left of me when they were finished wouldn’t be worth anything to anyone.”

Quinn raised her eyebrows and smiled. “It’s good to have friends who aren’t afraid to play fast and easy with things like death threats and castration.”

“Sometimes you all scare me.” I shuddered. “Anyway, the point is, there never was anyone else. Corey’s wife Ellie wanted to set me up with one of her girlfriends, but once she heard our story, she was Team Quinn all the way. She can’t wait to meet you.”

“Is that Corey Iverson’s wife? I read an article about them. They’ve got quite the history themselves. Are they as cute in person as they sound?”

“Even more so, although they’re such genuinely kind people that they’re not sickening, you know? Ellie is kind of the team mom. She cooks for us, makes sure we’re all keeping to the straight and narrow, and she loves to play matchmaker.” I paused as something Quinn had just said struck me. “You read an article about Corey?”

Her cheeks pinked again, just a little. “I might have read anything and everything about the Richmond Rebels and all their players. I might follow the team on social media. I might even have—” She cast her eyes upward, biting her lip. “A team jersey.”

I had a sudden and vivid memory of the first night we’d had sex. Quinn had taken the initiative, booking a hotel room the night that we’d won our championship game in junior year of high school. And when she’d emerged from the bathroom that night, wearing my football jersey and nothing else, I was convinced I could’ve died a happy man, then and there.

She was still speaking, and I struggled to pay attention.
Focus, man.

“Of course, I don’t have a Leo Taylor jersey. Not one from the Rebels, anyway.” She held up her fingers, counting off. “I have an Eatonboro High School Leo Taylor jersey—that one has some happy memories—”

“You’re damn right.”

“—and I have a Carolina University Leo Taylor jersey, and if I recall, that one saw its share of action, too—”

I nearly fell out of my chair. She was right. We’d celebrated my first college touchdown catch with her wearing that one. I’d been so pumped that night that I’d taken her up against the wall in my dorm. Suddenly my seat was extremely uncomfortable. I shifted, hoping she didn’t notice.

“But I need the Richmond Rebels Leo Taylor jersey to complete my collection.”

Under the table, I slid my foot up her calves to rest on the seat of the chair, between her knees. Quinn sucked in a quick breath and sat still.

“Tell you what.” My voice was hoarse. “If you promise to break in every jersey the way we did the first two, I’ll make sure you have one for every uniform we have—home and away—for every team I play for in my entire career.”

Quinn’s lips curved. “That sounds like a win-win deal to me.”

“But–” I held up one finger. “I can’t get you a Rebels jersey until you come back east. When you’re ready to come back, I’ll hook you up.” I stared hard at her, hoping she understood what I was trying to say. I would do anything for this girl—for this woman, because there was no doubt in my mind that she was that now. I would turn myself inside out, climb mountains, run races or win wars. But she had to show me that she was ready, and she needed to come home for me to be sure.

She watched me, and I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. Her smile broadened a little as she nodded.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Another beer, Leo?” Allan Crocker held out the frosty bottle to me. “Good thing about being in the city is that we rarely drive ourselves anywhere, so you can definitely have a second without worrying about being behind the wheel. And of course, you’re still in the off-season, so you might as well live it up a little.”

I accepted the beer with a grin. “You’re not wrong, sir. Thanks.”

“Hey—no sir here, please. You make me feel like an old-timer.” He sat down on the other deck chair, and both of us gazed out over the nighttime skyline of the city.

“I’ve seen tapes of your games. It’s really an honor to meet you.” I’d been here in San Francisco for four days now. Most of that time had been spent playing tourist, sightseeing and eating in some of the best restaurants I’d ever tried. Quinn and I had both realized, even without really discussing it, that the less time we spent alone in her apartment, the safer we were. So each morning she cooked me a killer breakfast, and then we’d head out, only returning to her house when we were both worn out and exhausted, ready to fall into bed. Separately, that is, even though I knew we both wanted it to be otherwise.

We hadn’t avoided deep conversation, though. More than once, we’d lingered at lunch for hours, talking about the past and present, sharing things we’d never admitted to each other—or maybe even to ourselves. I’d told Quinn about my last conversation with Nate, and she’d spoken about his advice to her.

“He loved us both,” Quinn had murmured. “He really did want us to have the best shot at happiness. I truly believe that.”

I’d nodded somewhat grudgingly. “I think you’re right. It was just hard to take it that way at the time.”

Tonight, on my last evening in California, Kara and Allan had invited us to join them for dinner. I’d met the couple earlier in my visit, but this was my first opportunity to get to know them. I could tell that they were as warm and friendly as Quinn had told me, and we were all having a good time. Quinn and Kara were in the kitchen now, cooking, and they’d shooed Allan and me outside with our drinks. Judging by the assessing look in Kara’s eyes, I suspected I was the main topic of conversation as they sautéed vegetables.

“I’ve seen some of your games, too, son. And of course, I’ve heard about you from Quinn since she’s been here with us. You’ve got talent, Leo, and what’s more, you’ve got the knack. The heart. You’re a football player on more than just the surface level. I think you’re going to go far.”

“I hope so.” I hesitated. Allan Crocker might not have been a star, but he was definitely a respected player who knew both the game on the field and the sometimes more challenging game off the field. “I love football. I want to play as long as I can. My only worry is about Quinn.”

“What about her?” Allan took a long pull of his beer, his eyes on my face.

“Sometimes I’m afraid Quinn feels like football comes before her. I wonder if it comes down to a choice . . . can I make it? I’d give up football in a heartbeat, if it was between the game and the girl. But if I did that, I’d be cutting off part of myself, and I don’t know who I’d be. Maybe I couldn’t be the man Quinn loves without the game.”

Allan swirled the bottle of beer, watching the bubbles rise. “I feel like I know Quinn pretty well now. I don’t know you, of course, and only the two of you can figure out your relationship and what works for you. But I can tell you from my own experience that football can be part of the glue that binds you together with your wife, or it can be the mistress who comes between you. I’ve seen it happen both ways. Both of you need to have a healthy respect for the game, but you can’t make it more than it is. In the end, you’ll walk away, and the game will go on without you. If you’re particularly blessed, you’ll hold onto some of the friends you made along the way, just as Kara and I have. But you can’t make the game more than it is, and you can’t expect it to give you more than it can.”

I frowned, digesting what he’d said. “So you don’t think I have to choose between having Quinn and playing football?”

Allan pursed his lips. “Son, Quinn has known you all your life. Football has been part of that. She has never said anything to me that would indicate she expects you to give it up.” He sighed. “You just have to work extra hard to make sure she knows her place in your life. At least, that was my experience. When the other guys on the team went out to a bar after practice—I came home and ate with my wife. When they partied after a game—I celebrated with Kara and Gunner. Kara put up with a ton of shit over the years, thanks to my career: long hours, travel, media attention—so I felt like anything I could give her, any time I could make sure to be there for her, I was.”

It was a revelation to hear that, and it freed a part of me that had been dreading having to make that choice. The idea that I could have both parts of my dream—both Quinn and football—made me almost dizzy with joy, and not a little impatient to make it all happen now.

“Dinner is served, gentlemen.” Quinn appeared in the doorway that led from the deck to the dining room. She was wearing a pretty dress that kind of floated around her body, in just the exact same shade of green that brought out the color of her eyes. Backlit by the lights in the house, she looked almost ethereal as she smiled at us. And in that moment, I wanted her more than I ever had before, with a desire so sharp it nearly hurt.

As though she read my want in my eyes—and maybe she did—Quinn took a step toward me, holding out her hand. When I took it in mine, the connection zinged through me like lightening, singeing my core.

Threading my fingers through hers, I let her lead me inside to where dinner awaited, hoping I could behave myself long enough to get Quinn back to her apartment.