Tackled (Alpha Ballers #1)

Then it hit me - what if he didn’t want to? What if this was the best way for him to get what he wanted, i.e., lot of sex whenever we could meet, without anything else complicated attached?

I tried not to think about it, but the thought found its way around the various corners of my mind all the while as I showered and got dressed.

As I did my makeup in the mirror I stared myself down. “Let it go, Lily,” I managed to squeak out, not as confidently as it should have been. That was for another time, I’d get to the bottom of it eventually.

Today was about covering the 3rd preseason game and watching Drake make his case to be on the roster. I knew he could do it; the only worry I had was whether he knew it.

The game was here in Foxboro, so there was no need to travel, which was nice. I didn’t see Drake in more than glimpses - game days were always a flurry of activity for the players - they had to get in the right headspace to play, and teams went to great lengths to make sure they were insulated from the rest of the world.

So the media was definitely not allowed to get near the players on the day of the game. We would have our time in the locker room afterward, and that would have to be enough. All I could do was text Drake my well wishes and that I was rooting for him. His reply was short, thanking me and saying he was busy.

It felt weird texting him like that - so far we had confined ourselves entirely to procedural and logistical stuff - it felt way more intimate to be texting support. Had we entered a new phase of whatever this was?

I mean, I liked the sound of that…but why did I get the feeling I was just setting myself up for frustration and eventual total heart break? I felt like despite how close we had become over these last couple weeks, we weren’t actually talking to each other, just around each other.

And then, of course, complicating things like it always had a way of doing, was the sex. Oh wow, the sex. It was otherworldly good, the kind of sex that could make your toes curl in your shoes and your heart race even hours later, when you were standing in the media line to get into a preseason football game.

Which…is exactly what happened to me. I was standing in line, milling about with the other journalists, exchanging small talk about various on the bubble players, when the memory of Drake sinking his thick hard cock into me came rushing back, and I definitely looked around for the nearest bathroom where I could be alone for a few minutes to take care of myself, but in the end I managed to rally and keep my wits about me for at least a little while longer.

All I knew was, if this game went well for Drake, I would be summoning him to my room afterward, and this time I might tie him to the bed just to keep him there all night. Coaches and other players be damned, if he sealed the deal today…we would celebrate.

The tough question that was racing through my mind when Drake’s touch wasn’t taking over was, could Drake really do it? Could he overcome all the odds stacked against him and actually make the team?

He had to play well, that was the case. But really, more than that, he had to demonstrate to the coaches that he and Lance Parker could work together effectively, could create that kind of connection that Lance and Mike Sampson seemed to share. It wasn’t like the two were long lost brothers or had played together since they were kids, so it was at least plausible that Drake could come in and show the same kind of electric route funning and steady hands.

Ugh, thinking about Drake’s hands were both all I wanted to do and what I needed to do professionally, but we definitely had two different purposes going at once.

Finally, the doors opened and the media were allowed to get into their spots. The Globe had asked for and received special permission for this game - we were out on the field just to one side of the home team benches. It was a really rare thing, and during the season this was only for members of TV networks, but the Globe was here for the 3rd preseason game.

Which meant I was just off the field, watching everything. It was…amazing, a dream come true. I snapped as many pictures as I could, sending them all to my father. He replied after each one, shocked at how clear and beautiful everything was. I was in awe at the sheer spectacle of it all. I had attended so many high school college, and even one pro game a year since I was a kid with my father, but I had never been so close to the field as I was right now.

It was spellbinding. As the stadium started to fill up with expectant fans, I could feel an electricity in the air. Sure, this was a preseason game, it didn’t count for the standings, but people came all the same, and brought their families too, just to see their favorite team and recklessly speculate about which players would make the team and which would be out on the street.

Of course, then everyone would repeat that reckless speculation about how their team would do this season. Tonight would lead to a lot of hasty bets made, both in Las Vegas and with shady bookies around the world.

Lucy Snow's books