Tackled (Alpha Ballers #1)

“Back at school, when I tutored you, you never really seemed to notice me. Yeah, you flirted with me, but it was like you were holding back. What was that all about?”


Drake looked a little uncomfortable, then he softened. “Oh that. Yeah, I uh, thought you were different. And it scared me.”

“Different? How?”

“You know, not like most other college girls. You seemed to be more interested in just sleeping with an athlete.”

“And that scared you?”

“Yeah. I felt like I wasn’t…ready for anything like that.”

“Oh.” I let the unspoken question stay unspoken, and momentarily chastised myself for letting this bother me even before anything had really started between us.

We started walking again and got to the car. Drake drove us back to the facility and we parked in the visitor’s lot before walking toward my room. I glanced up at Drake, walking next to me, wondering if it was OK for him to be seen around campus with me after hours, but Drake didn’t give any indication that anything was wrong, so I went with it.

We got to my door and I fumbled around in my purse for a moment before I found my keys and opened it. I stood in the doorway and turned around to face Drake.

“You know, the way you said that just now…”

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” He stepped forward, right outside the frame of the door, and I had to look way up at his huge frame.

I so wanted to invite him in. I so wanted him to come in and do disastrously naughty things to me. But that was just what it would definitely become - a disaster.

They say you should never bring your work home with you if you could avoid it, but what did they say about inviting your work into your home and your bed, all in the same night?

Probably not such a great idea, yet here I was, the second day of potentially the last stretch of my short career as a sports reporter for the Boston Globe, covering my favorite childhood team, and I was about to invite one of the players whom the term “on the hot seat” was coined for into my room.

What was I doing?!

“I shouldn’t do that.”

“I know. But you could.”

“You are factually correct, Drake, I could invite you in.”

Drake smiled. “Factually correct is the best kind of correct, Lily.”

I melted, batting my eyes at him. “You really know how to proposition a girl, don’t you?”

He leaned against the doorframe, and I smelled his manly scent wafting toward me. The man could dissolve clothing with a look, and now he was looking at me. Was there a draft in here? “I dunno what you’re talking about. I’ve never propositioned a girl in my life.”

“Oh yeah?” Now it was my turn to cock my head. “How come? Because they just throw themselves at you?”

“Maybe.” Ugh, that smile, so smarmy, so self-indulgent, so cocky and self-assured. It made me delirious and I hated myself for it. “Are you gonna invite me in?”

“If I do, what’ll happen?”

“I’ll come inside.”

“And then? It’s late.” I was just trying to buy some time now, before I did exactly what we both knew I wanted to do.

“We’ll see how much sleep we get.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then we can each spend the night awake thinking about what we could be doing together instead of alone.”

The man had a way with words, I couldn’t deny it. Really everything he’d done so far with those lips - speak, kiss, whatever, it was all good and I was totally on board with it.

“Fine. Come in.” I opened the door wide and stepped back, expecting Drake to turn sideways and slide next to me into my small cramped studio apartment, but instead he picked me up and carried me inside. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on as Drake paused to close the door with his foot and then kept on going.

My apartment at the Patriots complex was spartan to put it mildly, and I hadn’t really gotten a chance to unpack the few things I had brought with me besides my laptop computer, phone charger, and kindle. Just about the only real unpacking I had done was hanging up some clothing in the small closet.

Everything in the room was a muted shade of grey, which is weird, because it’s tough to describe any shade of grey as “muted,” but that was the first word that came to mind when describing the prevailing color of my room.

Right now I had more important things on my mind, things like physics and geometry and how to land on the bed in a sexy way when Drake threw me onto it, momentarily severing our touch connection before he jumped on top of me, pinning me down while we kissed with a ferocity that came from each of us knowing that we were finally alone. As I landed, I heard a soft shearing sound as my dress ripped. Oh well, I had more important things on my mind.

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