Page 74 of The Score We Never Settled

They’re all in there, celebrating a big win and wiping out the number one spot destined to the playoffs, but Briggs stole me away for a few moments so we could celebrate in private.

Because our relationship is still very private.

“I’m so proud of you,” I quip with my legs wrapped tightly around his waist. “You were amazing.”

“Because I knew you were watching. And I was waitin’ for this.”

I smile, feeling my cheeks pinken a little as I pull away from his face. “You always make me proud, Briggs.”

“I always want to please you, Mrs. Kerrigan. I live for my wife.”

Laying a palm on his chest, I fist his jersey and feel his cock twitch against my inner thigh. “I just want you to be safe. Andgoodfor next week’s game.”

Briggs’s gaze flicks upward. “It won’t be me startin’ it.”

“I know. But I don’t want you to get in trouble?—”

“Why don’t you call him, Short Stop, and tell him to stop runnin’ his mouth every time he’s within earshot because it’s only a matter of time before I have it wired shut.” I flinch at his forceful tone before he begins kneading my ass to calm down. “Don’t call him. I’ll kill him.”

“Briggs, stop.”

“Fuck him,” he grates out. “I don’t get why he keeps mentionin’ the two of you when it’s been years since you fake-dated him. The last time he said he fucked you.”

My body sags in defeat because I heard about that, and it really upset Briggs to no end. “You don’t trust me.”

Briggs shakes his head. “I do. I’m just tired of him…makin’ me think that, for a moment, you felt something for him.”

“I’ve never felt something for him.” I lightly cup his face so he can’t look away. “It started because I wanted to be around you. That’s all. That story has never changed.”

“I know.”

“But you keep gettin’ angry about it.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Briggs sighs and closes his eyes, appearing distraught and conflicted about something. “I dunno, I think I feel like I’m going to lose you. That all of this is going to be too much.”

“It’s not,” I reassure him. “I’m here?—”

“It’s the secrets, too, Layla. No one knows about me. It’s like you’re open season, single and not mine. It’s hard knowin’ I’m a diary entry?—”

“You’renota diary entry. I’m not twelve.”

“Then what am I?” he croons with tired eyes. “Because it’s not your husband in public. It’s not you telling your Uncle Ben that you love me and?—”

“Are we doing this right now? I thought you said you were going to give me time.”

“I’ve given you time, Layla. Are we always going to be like this?”

“No.”

“Then when?”

“Briggs, I love you?—”

“I know you do. But obviously, it doesn’t overpower your fear of your Uncle Ben. What is he going to do, Short Stop? You’re not a teenager anymore.”