Page 68 of Sportsball is for Lovers

I’ve always been headstrong. When I was little, they thought it might have been Oppositional Defiant Disorder, but as I grew up and learned to regulate, my fight or flight instinct tampered down.

I’ve still got a stubborn streak a mile wide, though.

With Jared, though, I don’t feel like that’s a bad thing. He likes that I’m independent, that I can take care of myself—mostly—and don’t need to be waited on hand and foot all the time. Do I like to be pampered? Yes, of course. Do I need it all the time? No. It would drive me mad.

And as much as he likes to take care of me and bring me pleasure in the bedroom, he doesn’t want someone subservient outside of it. He wants an equal—and so do I.

He makes me feel like my wants and needs are just as important as his. I’ve never had that before. I’m so used to being shoved aside, being the least important person in the equation. With my parents, with my siblings, even with some of my friends.

It’s why I cut ties with so many people from Scottsdale. It’s why I don’t keep in touch with the people I knew in college.

This is the new me: take it or leave it.

Jared cups my cheek, the simple contact bringing me back to the moment.

“Will you come home with me?” he asks quietly.

I tilt my head. “To Yoni’s?”

He smiles. “Okay. Can I go home with you?”

Sullivan clears his throat.

We both turn to look at him.

“Go away,” I tell my bestie.

He rolls his eyes. “Dude. Invite him to the bar.”

I turn back to Jared. “We’re going to a bar after the game. You should come with me.”

He opens his mouth.

“And then after, we’ll go home together,” I add.

He grins. “That sounds great.”

Sullivan smirks at us, and I reach over and punch him in the shoulder.

“I’ll introduce you to everyone properly then,” I promise.

Jared kisses my nose. “Looking forward to it.”

He releases me to my seat and edges back along the row ahead of us. His broad form cuts an impressive picture, his dark jeans clinging tightly to his thick ass and thighs.

“Damn,” Ceci says. “That is one serious hunk of a man.”

“I know.” I grin. “And he’s mine.”

“Get it, girl,” Bex says, lifting her hand for a high-five across the three people between us. “Does he have a brother?”

I laugh. “Yeah, he’s married.”

“Damn.” She shakes her head. “You get all the fucks. I mean, the luck.”

“Yeah, that too.” I grin at her.

“He’s good to you?” Rory asks quietly, a frown between her eyebrows.