By Thursday afternoon,I realize I’m beginning to thrive on chaos.
It’s exciting and exhilarating.
The Kings’ first game of the season is tonight, and while Dixon and I haven’t spent much time together this week, things have become a little less awkward around the house.
Start A Revolution’s first fundraising event is only two days away.
And what will hopefully become the first of Max’s annual season kickoff parties is one week after that.
Quinn, Willow, and I haven’t had two minutes to spare all week. I love it.
My bachelors are confirmed for Saturday. We have eleven Revolution players and seven Kings players, including Dixon and Watkins. Max’s brother Hudson volunteered and brought one of the other pro fighters from his gym, Jaxon, with him, adding two MMA fighters to the lineup for an even twenty bachelors. The silent auction items have all been collected and tagged. Maddie has blasted it on social media as the can’t-miss event of the season. And by this morning, I’ve sold more tickets than I ever dared to hope.
Now, let’s just pray it pays off.
When Max knocks on my open office door, I lift my head with a smile as he enters. I’ve barely moved from my seat all day, and the only time I’ve seen him was first thing this morning, even though his office is only steps from mine.
He walks into the room, sucking all the oxygen in his wake, then drops a kiss to my head and runs his hand over my hair.
We’ve agreed that neither of us wants to hide our relationship, but in general, we’re not going to flaunt it in the office either. I’d really like to not have it be center stage at the event on Saturday. I want the focus to be on Start A Revolution, not on Max Kingston dating the former owner’s daughter, who also happens to work for him.
I’ve come to realize that Max doesn’t consider kissing me in either of our offices flaunting it if no one else is with us.
Not like we were ever going to be able to downplay this thing between us anyway.
Once upon a time, I was the owner’s daughter.
People will talk, no matter what. I’m sure they were talking when Dad sold the organization so suddenly. I don’t think I even want to know what they were saying.
Can it really be that bad if everyone knows I’m the owner’s girlfriend?
A tiny voice inside my head reminds me it can be if this thing between us ends, but I try valiantly to ignore that possibility and live in the moment.
Not everyone leaves.
“Are you sure you don’t want to watch the game tonight from the box with my family?” Max has been trying to convince me all week to go to the football game with him. But I’ve held firm. My date tonight is Maddie.
He walks to the table in the corner of my office and helps himself to one of the few pears left in my basket, then winks at me. His intense blue eyes hold a wicked promise that I wish I could enjoy, but he already knows my answer to this question.
“Maybe I’ll be able to convince Maddie to come up there with me at some point. But like I told you last night, we’ve been watching Dixon’s games from our seats on the fifty-yard line for the past four years. Dixon gave us the season tickets before his very first game. He says it’s good luck. It’s tradition. And you know better than to mess with a player’s tradition.”
Max pulls two lanyards out of his pocket and hands them to me, his fingertips brushing mine. The electricity sings between us. And just like that, goosebumps break out all over my body. “Just in case you change your mind. These will get the two of you up to the suites. Just text me if you need anything.” He lowers his voice. “Any chance you want to come home with me after the game?”
“I wish I could,” I pout. “But I’m going with Maddie, and I don’t want to bail on her.”
His eyes glaze over. “I’ll miss you in my bed.”
“I was there last night.” And what a night it was. My legs clench at the memory of his face between my legs. “The memory will have to be enough.” Although I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of this man.
“Tomorrow?” Max asks, hope clear in his voice.
I glance at the planner sitting open on my desk. “I’m picking up my dress tomorrow after work, but I could pick up some dinner and come later.”
“Oh, you’ll come alright. I’ll make sure of it.” I watch him leave my office, suddenly needing a cold drink. And maybe a cold shower too. Damn him.