Page 79 of The Player

“Me too.” She settled against him again, her hand resting over his.

He’d spent enough of the day answering questions and being told where he needed to go next. Nobody needed a damn thing from him here. Nicole was warm and comfortable against him, and if they stayed like this until morning, that was fine by him.

“I keep thinking about that photographer,” she said.

“At the game?”

“Mm-hmm.” She propped herself on one elbow, taking some of the sheet with her. He caught it before it slipped off her back and left his hand at her waist. “You saw him, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You think it’ll be in the school paper?”

“Probably. Most of my pictures end up in there.” He rubbed his thumb along her waist, watching her think about it.

“People are going to have a lot to say.” She looked down at him with a small smile. “Especially after that kiss.”

He’d been thinking about getting his hands on her, not who might have a problem with it. He still wouldn’t change a fucking thing about going over there. People could say whatever they wanted to him. He just wished he could keep that shit from reaching her. “You okay with that?”

“Yeah, Drew. I am.” She rested her hand against his cheek. “I know people are going to talk.”

Right. Her father was Melvin fucking Wright. She’d grown up with people running their mouths about her family, and here he was acting like he needed to explain it to her. Still, she ought to hear about the reporter from him.

“One of them already asked about you after the game.”

“A reporter?” Nicole lifted her head a little. “What did he ask?”

“Wanted to know if you were my good-luck charm.”

“Oh, Lord.” She laughed. “What did you say?”

“I told him you were my girl.”

She went quiet, her fingers resting against his cheek.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.” Her thumb moved along his jaw. “I like hearing that.”

“I like saying it.”

“What else did he ask?”

“Your name. How long we’ve been together.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Nothing. I told him to ask me about the game.”

“Good answer.”

He thought about telling her the rest. He could still hear Jed talking about different backgrounds, different attitudes. All that careful fucking language, and what it came down to was that somebody might not like seeing him kiss a Black woman. He’d had to stand there after one of the best games of his season and listen to that shit.

Nicole was lying here with her hand on his chest, glad he’d kept her name to himself. If he told her, she’d have that conversation in her head too. She’d know somebody working with him thought being seen with her was something he needed to handle. Fuck that. He could deal with Jed himself.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Nicole could have flown home Sunday, or Monday at the latest, since classes had let out the day before the Auburn game. Instead, it was Wednesday night, and she was only now getting her suitcase out the door.