I join in her laughter, taking her glass of champagne from her when she finishes it and handing it to another waiter who walks by with an empty tray.
“Well, considering you made me look good in front of everyone, and all that heckling you did with Malcolm and Craig’s team didn’t come back to bite us in the ass, you deserved to have the money from the cornhole tournament go toward a charity that’s close to your heart.”
And close to mine now. I heard about Shepherd Oliver’s foundation, Little Cleats, not too long ago, which donates over five thousand little league uniforms to teams that can’t afford them every year. Chatting with him the last few days, I found out they recently added football, softball, and soccer uniforms to their list. It was really a no-brainer who the $10,000 should go to.
Fine, so maybe I also hoped it would give me a few brownie points where Emily is concerned. Whatever. I’m only human.
“You’re a good man, QB.”
“Wanna go make out?” I joke, wagging my eyebrows at her, even though I’m really not fucking joking. I would give my left nut to kiss her again right now.
Emily just smiles and rolls her eyes at me, when a tap on my shoulder forces me to turn away from her.
“Everything is all clear now, sir. Ready whenever you are.”
With a nod at one of the security guards for the stadium, who I slipped a hundred dollars to earlier, I turn back to Emily and hold my hand out to her. My chest tightens again when she slides her hand right into mine without question or hesitation.
“Come on.” I tug her closer and start walking us toward the door that will take us out of the conference center and into the tunnel of the stadium. “I felt bad you didn’t get to go on one of the tours earlier, since Craig’s girlfriend was talking your ear off. Everyone has finally trickled back in here, and we have the place all to ourselves now.”
I tuck Emily’s hand into the crook of my elbow as we move to the outer edge of the room and away from the crowd, pausing and quickly glancing back over my shoulder when we make it to the door. I’m happy to see no one is even looking this way or noticing we’re slipping out, thanks to the crowd of partygoers now gathered around a man dancing like a complete idiot on the other side of the room to the orchestra’s cover of “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses.
“How much did you have to pay Devin for that?” Emily muses as she looks back over her shoulder with me at one of our linebackers, who is currently spinning around on his back like a turtle who got stuck on his shell and can’t roll over, before we quickly exit the room and step out into the tunnel.
“Absolutely no money exchanged hands,” I inform her, the sounds of her heels click-clacking against the cement echoing through the tunnel as I walk her to our first destination on the tour. “I may or may not have agreed to go to three of his daughter’s ballet recitals while his wife is out of town, but it was totally worth it.”
The sound of Emily’s laughter echoing through the tunnel along with her heels solidifies just how much it was worth it. Even if it’s just a tour of the new stadium upgrades that will probably bore her to death, it’s still a little bit of quiet, uninterrupted time I get to have with her.
That’s worth all the ballet recitals in the world.
Let’s just hope I can behave like a proper gentleman during this quiet, uninterrupted time.
CHAPTER 16
Emily
“Stop pretending.”
“Wow! I didn’t expect it to be so huge.”
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
“Definitely the biggest one I’ve ever seen.”
“I’ll let you stand there for a few minutes and take it all in.”
“I think I just got pregnant.”
“I don’t know whether to be proud or offended that you’re so impressed by our locker room.”
Looking back over my shoulder with a cheeky smile at Quinn, I find him leaning against the wall of the archway that leads into the kitchen right off the locker room, with his hands shoved in the front pockets of his tailored black dress pants and his dimples popping. He lost the matching black jacket that accompanied his suit during dinner, draping it over the back of his chair and leaving it behind when we snuck out. Which leaves him in just his fitted white dress shirt neatly tucked into his pants, with a shiny black belt around his trim waist, and a thin black tie.
He’s a devilishly handsome, mouth-watering package, leaning casually against the archway wall, making it harder and harder to keep my hands to myself. His short black hair is neatly styled with product, making the thick strands look even darker and his sexy eyes even bluer when they’ve tracked my every movement tonight, while the muscles in his biceps strain against the material of his dress shirt, caused by his bent arms. My heart skips a beat, just like it has every time he’s smiled at me tonight.