Authors: Janie Mason
“Care to share?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she met his gaze.
“I don’t think so.”
Her knowing grin guaranteed further questioning another time.
“Are you planning to tell Al?”
“I haven’t decided.
I won’t lie to him, but if the subject doesn’t come up, I’m not sure.”
She straightened.
“You won’t mention it, will you?”
“No way.
The guy hasn’t exactly warmed up to me yet anyway.
I’m staying out of his business.”
“You men.”
She sounded exasperated.
“I think underneath that gruff exterior, Al Matthews is just a big teddy bear.”
“Teddy, no.
Grizzly, yes.”
She laughed, making Sean seriously regret he’d promised not to lay a hand on her.
Her eyes widened and she straightened.
His expression must have been telling enough for her to sense the direction of his thoughts, so he took a step back.
She gave him a little wave.
“You’d better get home and get some rest. Tomorrow is game day, and it would be pretty embarrassing if you fell asleep on the sideline.”
“True enough.
I’ll follow you home and make sure you get in all right.”
“Thanks, but that’s not necessary.
I’ll see you in the morning.”
Little did she know it would be much sooner than that.
Odds were she’d play a starring role in his dreams tonight.
Fifteen minutes later, Sean’s headlights still reflected in
Gigi’s
rearview mirror.
The stubborn man had followed her all the way to her apartment.
Why did he have to be so chivalrous?
And hot.
The way he’d looked at her right before she’d left had her aroused and on edge.
“Damn you, Sean Fitzgerald.
I finally find a job where I’m more than just window dressing and you come along and mess it, and me, all up.”
She parallel-parked in front of her building and, although not quite used to her new car, nailed it on the first attempt.
She tried to wave him on as she headed to the door, but of course, his car remained idling in the street until she was safely inside.
Upstairs, as she unlocked her apartment and set her things on the small table just inside the door.
Mental exhaustion had her superimposing Sean everywhere she looked, sprawled out on her sofa, grinning and crooking his finger in invitation.
“Wishful thinking.”
But as she turned and flipped on the kitchen light, there he was again, checking out the contents of the fridge, shirtless, the muscles in his back flexing as he rested his forearm over top of the door and bent to see inside. In her fantasy, Sean’s worn denims hung low on his hips, just covering his tight male butt.
Gigi
blinked, the vision seemed so real.
She crossed to the sink and quickly poured half a glass of cold water, downing it in one swallow.
Maybe that would dowse her over-fired imagination.
Flipping off the light, she headed toward her bedroom and reminded herself of her mantra.
But when she turned on the overhead switch, there Sean was, naked under the covers of her bed, patting the vacant space beside him.
Choosing to laugh rather than cry in sexual frustration, she dove at the bed, rolled onto her back and spread her arms out wide.
“Come and get me.”
Chapter Ten
“L-I-O-N-S, GO LIONS!”
The cheerleaders flipped and jumped as
Gigi
climbed the steps of the home stands.
The student section roared, exponentially louder than the general crowd, as the kick-off marked the beginning of the game.
She’d heard someone on the way in say the Lions quarterback was back in this week’s game and the team had high hopes of winning.
Sean’s tutoring had been successful, and that left her with a sense of pride she was reluctant to acknowledge.
Gigi
scanned the crowded stands, feeling a bit out of her element.
She hadn’t attended a football game since high school.
Her recent boycott on men, which was
supposed
to make her feel empowered, had been a tough sell on Friday and Saturday evenings.
Normally she would have been out on a date or partying with a group of friends.
Tonight it had almost been a relief to have a new activity to distract her.
When Al had offered her an employee pass, she’d thought to score a few brownie points with the boss.
The anticipation of seeing Sean in action had absolutely nothing to do with her decision to accept.
Nope, not at all
.
It also had no bearing on her decision to wear her best jeans and a lime green camisole top under a matching sheer blouse.
She spotted L.R., outfitted in an over-sized, forest green t-shirt with white Lion’s lettering and a ruffled white skirt, waving her direction from a seat on the aisle a few rows up.
The principal had been in and out of the building all day and probably hadn’t had a chance to read
Gigi’s
update about the meeting with Tony Walton.
Gigi
made her way up to L.R., who scrunched over to make room.
“I read your e-mail,” L.R. said.
“Sorry I couldn’t make the meeting, but it sounds as if you have everything under control.”
She gave
Gigi
a sound pat on the knee and then refocused on the players.
Without turning back to
Gigi
, she said, “I appreciate you taking control of things on our end.
The normal beginning of the school year nonsense, combined with the upcoming standardized tests, makes it difficult for me to devote much time toward this fundraising project.”
“No problem.”
Gigi
enjoyed the challenge of her new position.
Funny, she’d gone from one menial job to the next and never really realized how much she hated them.
Why hadn’t this problem ever occurred to her before?
She never figured boredom into her mental equations.
She was staring off into space, ready to consider this revelation in more depth, when another roar went up from the crowd.
Her attention flew to the field.
One of the Lion’s players—she knew
diddly
about football and couldn’t have said what position he played—was running past a pileup of players and seemed to have a clear path toward the end zone.
Everyone in the home stands was on their feet, cheering for a young man who was probably so focused on sprinting his heart out that he’d tuned out all sound.
Swept up by the crowd’s enthusiasm, she joined in the cheering.
“Go, go, go!”
L.R. cupped her hands around her mouth as the boy neared the end zone.
“Run, Mark, run.”
He was far enough ahead of the pack that the enthusiasm of the fans swelled with each stride.
When he crossed into the end zone,
Gigi
joined them in screaming her lungs out.
Caught up in the moment, she turned first to L.R. and then to the couple seated behind them, giving each high-fives.
“What a great way to start the game.
I’m going down to the sideline for a while.”
L.R. shouted to her over the cheering.
“I might or might not make it back up here.
Are you okay?”
At
Gigi’s
nod, she began picking her way down through the crowded aisles.
The extra point was good and after more riotous cheering, the crowd settled back to their seats for the kick-off.
Gigi
had no trouble spotting the principal’s flowing white skirt as she made her way to the sideline to stand next to one of the EMTs.
An ambulance was parked on the curve of the track, standing by in case of an
emergancy
.
Gigi
scanned the cluster of players.
Even wearing identical uniforms, the boys could be identified by their heights and builds and the way they moved.
Each was unique.
When her gaze settled on Sean, she noted the same could be said about the coaching staff.
Four adult men walked among the cluster of players, all of them dressed in black shorts and white short-sleeved shirts.
All four wore black ball caps but, she noted, Sean was the only one with a headset.
He spoke into the microphone as he referred to a clipboard in his hand.
Since she was free to do so without detection,
Gigi
admired him from a distance.
He stood taller than all but one of his players.
Where the other coaches were either slightly built or pot-bellied, Sean was well-muscled, without an ounce of surplus body fat.
Of course, to
prove
her assessment true, he’d need to remove all his clothes for a thorough inspection.
Her eyes glazed over, her mind entranced more by the mental image than the football game.
She was well into an erotic fantasy involving Sean and a jar of fudge sauce when angry cries pulled her back to reality.
“Ah, come on!”
“No way!”
“What, are you blind?”
She focused on the field.
The opposing team had the ball inside their own ten yard line.
How long had she been in La-la Land?
Unhappy comments continued to buzz around her, but she had no idea what the dispute was about.
Sean had removed the headset and held it in his fist as he paced the sideline, looking none too happy.
The referee set the ball on the nine-yard line, and the growls and grumbles from the home-team fans died down when it was obvious the play was about to start.
A few errant fans called out to the defense, but most of the home crowd was quiet with anticipation.
Sean stopped pacing when the opposing team broke out of their huddle.
With his feet planted shoulder-width apart, he crossed his arms.
As the play began, he remained frozen.
The visiting team’s quarterback took a few quick steps away from the line of scrimmage, searching for an open teammate.
Shouts from armchair coaches erupted all around
Gigi
.
“Look out!”
“Pass!”
“Thirty-five is open!”
The pass was thrown.
For a fraction of a second, the fans collectively held their breath, all eyes on the ball as it sailed right into the arms of the receiver.
“Touchdown!”
The call came from the referee and was echoed from the visitors’ stands.
Loud groans of disappointment and even a few muffled curse words followed from the home crowd.
Gigi’s
gaze went back to Sean, and she couldn’t keep a smile from spreading across her face.
No stomping or screaming, no hissy fits or accusatory finger-pointing.
He’d put his headset back on, tucked his clipboard under his arm and was clapping to his players.
The kind of clapping done to motivate, to get players’ heads back in the game, past the disappointment and back on track.
And it worked.
Throughout the game,
Gigi
spent more time observing Sean than watching the plays.
He appeared focused and in control, no matter the score.
The Lions spent as much of the game ahead as behind, but by the last two minutes they were winning with a score of 24 to 21.