Seeing Red: A New Adult Sports Romance (NE University Book 2) Page 20

  Blaze slaps me on the back and pulls my helmet closer to his by my face shield. “We got this, big boy. We fucking got this. Not only that, but we also need this.”

  I grin. “Fucking right we do. Let’s do it.”

  If we want a chance at making it to the Super Bowl, we need all the wins we can get right now. So far, we’ve won all of our games besides to the Patriots. Of course, Trent hasn’t let me live that down. Fucker’s lucky he’s my best friend.

  Tonight’s game is against the Dallas Cowboys. They haven’t really done anything spectacular these past few seasons, so we’re projected to win, but you just never fucking know. We could get out there and not be one hundred percent, and they could be one hundred ten percent. We all have our on days, and we sure as shit have our off days. But knowing that sexy redhead is up there, watching me, only makes me want to push myself to bury this team.

  I look at the area she should be seated and watch. It’s too far away to physically see her, but I know she’s there. And I know she’s looking back at me right now.

  Hold on, sexy. Soon, you’re not going to question how much I want you. You’ll know.

  forty-six

  Anna

  This game is incredible. I forgot how much I missed football. It has always been the one and only sport that could hold my interest as a spectator. Mason is on fire tonight. I wasn’t sure if I would ever see him in sync with a quarterback the way he was with Trent, but I was wrong. These two are a powerhouse together. A true force to be reckoned with. The way Mason moves on the field is indescribable. It’s the sort of talent and smoothness you only hear about. Hopefully, our daughter gets his athletic abilities, seeing as I don’t really have any.

  It’s halftime when I hear a throat clear from behind us, followed by a deep, familiar male voice. “Sara.”

  We both turn to find Mason’s dad behind us.

  “Jackson, hello.”

  She smiles, but I can tell she’s uncomfortable. Mr. King, however? He’s not uncomfortable-looking. No, he’s straight-up enamored as he watches her.

  After a few tense moments, his eyes shift to mine. Confusion crosses his face. “Anna? Hello … how have you been?” His eyes find my stomach, and his body stiffens.

  Before I can clear the air, his bitchy wife comes out of the woodwork. She forces a smile, but the way she’s looking at Sara, she’s anything but happy.

  Her hand curls around Mr. King’s arm. “There you are, darling. I was looking for you.” She moves her focus to Mason’s mother. “Sara, so nice to see you.”

  I’m wishing I could throw an invisible blanket over myself before she spots me, but no such luck when I hear her voice say, “Anna, what are you doing here? Oh dear, you seem to be … expecting?”

  I swallow the nerves down and nod. “Hi, Mrs. King. Nice to see you. Yes, sure am. Due in February. A little girl.”

  Her face twists in distaste, yet she attempts to smile. It doesn’t work, by the way.

  “Oh my. How … exciting. Who’s the father?”

  I choke back a cough by her bluntness before gathering myself. “Um … it’s Mason’s baby.”

  “You sure do like the King boys … don’t you? First, Maverick, and now, Mason,” she attempts to joke, but I know she’s being a bitch.

  I don’t let it bother me though. She isn’t a nice lady.

  “Is that true, Sara? Mason is having a baby?” Mr. King’s voice sounds surprised and, dare I say, hurt.

  She smiles timidly at him and nods. “He is. That means, we are going to be grandparents.”

  He gets a sad look in his eyes.

  Before he says anything, Sara stands to face him. “I’m sure he was going to tell you, Jackson, but he’s been very busy.”

  He nods, but it’s obvious he doesn’t believe the words he’s hearing.

  She steps a little closer. Close enough that it’s clear she’s trying to comfort him. But not close enough that it’s inappropriate. “If it makes you feel better, I only just learned of this a few days ago.”

  “Really?” he questions.

  She nods and shrugs. “Our boy had to tell us in his own time. That’s all.”

  Their sweet moment is soon ruined when the bitchy Miranda tugs on his arm. “Well, we’d better go back to our seats, darling.” She turns toward us. “Have a good night.”

  And with that, she gently pulls his arm, urging him to follow her. He remains in place for a few seconds longer.

  “Nice to see you, Sara. Anna, congratulations. I hope I can meet her. You know, the baby, once she’s born.”

  I nod and smile. “That sounds good. Thank you.”

  He slowly turns and follows his wife, who is glaring at him. I’m guessing she didn’t like the way his eyes lingered on Sara. Or the way he said her name like they were long-lost lovers.

  I guess they kind of are though.

  I feel Sara’s hand on my forearm.

  “I am so sorry about that. Hopefully, it didn’t upset you. Miranda is … well, she’s …”

  “A bitch?” I deadpan.

  She giggles. She’s so sweet that she didn’t even want to use the word bitch for a lady who stole the man she loved.

  She nods. “Yes. I suppose that’s what she would be called, isn’t it?”

  I nod. “Sure is. And it’s fine. Trust me, I’ve dealt with a lot worse.”

  Boy, is that the understatement of the century. Miranda’s no doubt a bitch. But she’s got nothing on my mom.

  Sympathy fills her face. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Thank Lord halftime is over, and the game starts back up. I don’t think I can deal with many more emotional conversations tonight.

  Halfway through the third quarter, Mason runs in yet another touchdown. His third for the night.

  His mom grabs my hand. “That’s my boy! That’s my boy!”

  I beam back at her. What would it be like to have parents that proud of you? It must be amazing. I hope that Mason never takes it for granted.

  “He’s an amazing athlete; you must be so proud.” I already know in my heart and soul that she is.

  She nods and wipes her eyes. “I am. But honestly? He could be a grocery bagger, and I’d be just as proud. It’s what’s in here that makes him so special.” She touches her chest.

  Wow, pull my heart out right now. How lucky will my baby be to have this lady as her grandmother? She is so warm and sweet that it’ll almost make up for my mom being as cold as she is.

  I watch him on the field, and he just completely mesmerizes me with his every move. He’s so graceful on his feet. He’s one of those players who can get the attention of an entire stadium. They are up by two touchdowns with only one minute and thirty seconds on the clock. So, the game should be theirs, yet they never stop playing like their lives depend on it. Every last second has every ounce of effort squeezed out of it, and they bring the win in like true champions.

  How incredible is it for my daughter that her dad is someone’s hero? Heck, I bet he’ll be her hero. The thought makes me smile.

  Sara and I wait for Mason in the car after the game while he finishes up with reporters. It’s nearly ten thirty at night, and I am exhausted. As much as I try to keep my eyes open and not be rude to Sara by falling asleep and most likely drooling all over myself, it’s useless. Twenty-five minutes of waiting, and my eyes won’t stay open. I can feel myself drifting off into a deep sleep.

  Mason

  The press took longer than I’d hoped it would. But that’s just how it goes sometimes. I feel like an asshole for making my pregnant, er … baby mama wait that long. I reach for the door handle of the car they are in. When I pull the door open, my mom looks annoyed.

  “Shh,” she says dramatically and signals to Anna, whose head is against the window while she snores softly.

  Poor thing. She’s probably exhausted. For Christ’s sake, she’s eight months pregnant, and I have her out until eleven at night, waiting for my ass. I feel like a selfish pri
ck. But I’ll admit, she looks beautiful. Big belly and all.

  Reaching over her, I pull the seat belt around her. Which, by the way, is fucking hard, getting it around the watermelon she’s smuggled in under her jacket. Once I get her safely fastened, I softly shut the door and climb in the front seat next to the driver, Richard.

  “Where to first, sir?” he asks while pulling away from the curb.

  “My house,” I answer, glancing back at my sleeping beauty.

  He clears his throat. “Yes, sir. Will I need to take Miss Eubanks home after, or will she be staying?”

  “She’ll be staying with me,” I answer firmly. Whether she likes it or not.

  forty-seven

  Anna

  Iawaken in an unfamiliar yet extremely comfortable bed in a room that I have never seen. Unsure of where the hell I am.

  I slowly sit up. The last thing I remember was being in the SUV with Mason’s mother while we waited for him to finish talking with reporters. It hits me that this must be Mason’s house.

  I look down to see I am wearing baggy sweatpants and a huge T-shirt. All right, this is starting to get weird. I relax the tiniest bit, feeling that I have a bra and panties on. That’s one good sign that I didn’t do anything stupid last night.

  Pushing my big, bloated, incredibly round body to stand, I frown when I see my boot next to the bed. How did that get off?

  Shrugging to myself, I step into it and shuffle my way across the beautiful dark wood floor. I push the door open slightly, and I take in the gorgeous high ceiling and skylights along with the freshly painted neutral walls and trim. Everything looks so rustic and warm yet modern and sleek at the same time. I’m genuinely impressed with the interior design of this house.

  I’m still peeking around when a shirtless Mason appears, coming up the stairs. Before I can shut the door to hide my messy, just-woke-up face, his eyes find mine, and that damn smirk comes out. I try not to ogle his abdomen, but hot damn … it’s next to impossible. I didn’t think it was possible for him to get in better shape since his time at NEU, but boy, was I wrong. He’s like a tall glass of water, and I’m mighty thirsty. Chiseled to absolute perfection. Those lines leading down to his … ahem, area. Those sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. Mama hasn’t had any action in too damn long—not to mention, he’s the hottest man on the planet. It almost isn’t even fair. Just looking at him makes me want to climb him like a post.

  Is it suddenly hot in here?

  I clench my thighs to help with the pressure building up. I consider wiping saliva that is probably dripping from my mouth as it hangs open in awe.

  His smooth voice breaks my trance. “Hey, hey, good-looking.” His eyes twinkle with their usual mischief.

  Taking a few seconds longer than I’d like to admit to recover, I quip back, “Why didn’t you bring me back to my apartment?” I put a hand on my hip.

  He needs to know it isn’t all right to just kidnap someone. Unless you’re going to take them to your bedroom and make it up to them the entire night. Wow, I need to get my mind out of the gutter.

  This makes his smirk only intensify more as he gets closer. Leaning against the doorframe I’m standing in, he moves even closer to me. “Well, sweetheart, how do you know I didn’t try to take you to your apartment? I mean, do you even remember me bringing you into this bedroom?”

  My cheeks heat up. I’m sure I was out like a light. Who gets carried inside and undressed and doesn’t wake up? An eight-month-old pregnant woman who was on her feet all day. That’s who.

  I narrow my eyes. “So, you did try to take me to my apartment?”

  Wow. He tried to drop me off and probably couldn’t wake my ass up. Now, that’s embarrassing.

  He shakes his head, and minty-fresh breath fills my nostrils. Teasing me more and making my mouth want to dive into his. “Nope, I didn’t.”

  I smack his chest. “You’re obnoxious. Then, why did you say that?”

  He shrugs. “To get your panties in a bunch.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Worked, didn’t it?”

  I roll my eyes. “No. But you are a weirdo for changing my clothes while I was asleep. That’s some sort of creeper shit.”

  A cocky expression covers every inch of his face, and he shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, pretty sure I’ve seen it all before, Red. Hence the Titty Monster growing inside of you.”

  “Ugh. It’s too early for your comments. I haven’t even had coffee yet. What kind of host are you anyway?” I mean it too. Without coffee in the morning, even I’ll admit that I’m a monster.

  “Coffee?” His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “I thought you, you know, couldn’t have coffee. Since you’re pregnant and all that shit.”

  I huff out an annoyed laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. Men are unreal. “Well, asshole, I can have a cup to two a day even if I am, ya know, ‘pregnant and all that shit.’ ” I hold my fingers up in air quotes.

  He shrugs nonchalantly. “Hey, I’m still getting used to this baby stuff. I don’t know jack shit about it. Other than it eats, shits, and sleeps once it comes out.”

  I lean against the doorframe and look up at him. I sigh. “Same here. We’ll be quite the pair, huh?”

  “You can say that. Poor Titty Monster won’t stand a chance.”

  I bust out laughing. “Take me downstairs to get a coffee, baby daddy.”

  He laces his fingers with mine and pulls me to follow him. We walk down a set of beautiful stairs, me clunking along next to him in my ugly boot. These stairs are as wide as my closet.

  We find his mother in the kitchen, propped up on a stool with her glasses on, reading the paper. Spotting her, I pull my hand away from his. I don’t want her getting excited that this is something it’s not. I’m sure he doesn’t think of me that way anymore.

  You shouldn’t be feeling that way about him either, you idiot. It will only lead to more heartache.

  “What time are you headed out again?” Mason asks his mom.

  “I need to leave within the hour. I have a ton of stuff to do at the café when I get back. It’s been so great, staying here though.”

  “You can come back anytime, Mom. You know that,” he says to her.

  I can tell he absolutely means it. It’s obvious he loves his mom. I wish I could say the same about my own.

  She smiles and pushes herself off of the stool. “I know. I’ll be back. Especially when the little angel arrives.” She motions to my stomach. “I’ll see you all very soon. I want to help you guys in any way that I can.”

  I don’t deserve her sweetness. She’s too kind. But my daughter deserves it. So, I’m glad she has her.

  After we chat for a bit longer, she makes her way upstairs and grabs her belongings. We follow her outside, and Mason puts her bag in the trunk of her car before enveloping her in a bear hug. She looks so tiny in his arms.

  After he releases her, she turns toward me before pulling me in for a hug. It catches me off guard. Hugging isn’t something my family ever did. I don’t even remember being told I love you. Not once.

  She lets go of me and smiles. “I’ll see you soon. I can’t wait to spend more time together.”

  I nod. “Me too.”

  We watch her drive away before I follow Mason back into the house.

  I’m unsure of what to do in a situation like this. I have no idea if he wants me to go home. Or if he wants me to stay. I just don’t know how he’s feeling. Or what’s running through his head.

  I know that I hate the feelings I’m having. How my skin prickles when he so much as touches me when passing by. Or how I have a hard time not staring at his lips when he talks and thinking about his lips on mine. The worst is, just longing for him to hold me. The way that he did in the Hamptons at night. I’d never been held like that in my life. Now, I long for it. I know he isn’t interested in me like that now. He’s doing the right thing for our daughter. Eventually, these feelings will pass, and I’ll co-parent with him with a strictly platonic rela
tionship.

  Right? Gosh, I hope so.

  Mason

  She follows me back inside, and even though she’s pregnant and I know it’s fucked up, I can’t stop thinking about taking her to my bedroom. Though part of me is scared to death it’d hurt the baby, I just can’t help but think about it. She’s so fucking gorgeous, and I’ve missed her so much more than I even realized.

  “So, do you want to give me a ride home? Or should I call an Uber?” she asks while piling her beautiful mess of hair up on top of her head.

  I can tell she is unsure of what she’s supposed to do now that my mother has left.

  “Leaving so soon, Red? Too good for me these days? What, do you have minivans to test out or pregnancy books to read?” I wink.

  She rolls her eyes. “First of all, ew. I am not getting a minivan. Ever. Second, I’ve tried to read the books; they all contradict each other. And they are boring. And sometimes, gross.”

  “I’m kidding. Why don’t you hang out awhile? We’ll order delivery for lunch and watch Netflix.”

  We used to love Netflix-bingeing when we hung out during our time at NEU.

  She ponders it for a second before nodding her head weakly. “All right. I guess.”

  “Don’t sound so excited, sweet cheeks.”

  She always tries to appear unimpressed. It’s hard to get a good read on her because of that. But I saw the way she was ogling me this morning. She was turned on for sure. Her breathing got unstable, and her eyes were glazed over. It was hot. I almost pointed it out, but she was already annoyed with me for kidnapping her.

  We make ourselves comfortable on the couch, and I turn the TV on and find some chick flick I know she’ll like. I see her moving around a lot, trying to find the right spot to lie to accommodate her belly.