If someone would have told my younger self, drooling over pictures of Quinn Bagley playing college ball, that someday we’d actually be dating and one of those disgustingly cutesy couples who dress alike, since Quinn is also wearing his navy-blue home jersey paired with jeans, I probably would have punched them in the throat and laughed in their face. Every day I spend with him, I still feel like someone needs to pinch me, and it’s all a dream I’m going to wake up from.
“I also like it when you wear your hair up. I have better access to your neck.”
Quinn proves that point by dipping his head and nuzzling his nose into the side of my neck, nipping and kissing until I’m giggling and squirming in his arms. Finally pushing away from him after a few seconds, I order him to behave as a few more of his teammates enter the room and greet everyone with high-fives and congratulations on another successful clinic.
Pride flows through me as I watch Quinn chat with Tristan, seeing him so happy and settled with this team. Thinking back to the night I met him, the decision he was wrestling with at the time, and the stress that was written all over his face, I’m glad he made the choice he did, and not just because it brought him closer to me. This is where he’s meant to be, and this is the team he’s meant to play with. And I know it won’t even matter to him if they win one game or if they win them all. He’s just happy to be playing again, with a team that feels like a family. And I can’t wait to support him and cheer him on with the rest of the wives and girlfriends and watch him lead this team to amazing things.
Oh my God… I can’t believe I’m actually in that category now. I’m Quinn Bagley’s girlfriend!
“What are you so smiley about?” Quinn asks in amusement, pulling me out of my thoughts when Tristan walks away. “Wait. Are you thinking about kicking me in the balls or something? Is that why you’re smiling?”
“I’ll hold him down if you need me to, Emily,” Marcus announces as he walks by, lifting his glass in cheers, making me laugh and Quinn shake his head.
“I told you they like you more than me.”
Leaning into his body, I press my lips to his for a quick, soft kiss, pulling back to smile at him. “I’m smiling because I’m happy. Although it’s good to know I’ll have backup if you get out of line.”
Quinn swats my ass and makes me squeal as I pull away, both of us laughing, when all of a sudden, the dings, chimes, and buzzing of a bunch of cell phone notifications going off start filling the room, mine included.
Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, my eyes narrow in confusion when I see the text flash across my lock screen.
Ellen Westwood: You mess with my life, I’m going to mess with yours.
“What the fuck?” Quinn mutters, standing right next to me and looking down at my phone, just as confused as I am.
“I have no idea.” I shake my head, lifting it when Craig rushes over to Quinn with his phone in his hand.
“Dude. This isn’t good. Check out social media. The shit has hit the fan.”
My stomach drops as Quinn snatches Craig’s phone out of his hand, right as an SOS text from Wren flashes across my screen. I ignore her text as Quinn reads the article out loud that Craig has pulled up, every word out of his mouth making all the happiness I felt just seconds ago vanish in the blink of an eye.
“Exclusive interview with Ellen Westwood, former director for the Los Angeles Vipers Cheerleaders for the last twenty-five years, after her recent firing from the organization following a unanimous vote from the board, amid claims of the unfair treatment, overworking, and underpaying of the cheerleaders throughout her career.”
“Oh my God… she was fired?” I mutter, realizing that must be what her cryptic text was all about.
Fear starts to claw at my throat and make it hard to swallow, since I know exactly what Ellen Westwood is capable of when she’s pissed.
“Jeanie said she was going to call the Vipers, but she never said anything more after that. She’s just an angry woman lashing out. No one is going to believe anything she has to say,” Quinn reassures me, reaching over to place his hand on my back to rub a few comforting circles up and down my spine, the laid back, happy smile on his face from moments ago long gone.
Dropping his hand from my back, he looks down at Craig’s phone to continue reading, while I continue having a silent panic attack next to him.