I held my stomach. “Jimmy-Don, I’m going to puke if you keep going! I’m still struggling with morning sickness—which just so happens to last all bloody day!”

Grimacing, he set me on my feet. “Sorry, darlin’!”

Bending, Jimmy-Don kissed my hand. “Congratulations on your lil’ baby. You’ll make one helluva sexy MILF!”

“Thank you… I think…?”

Romeo’s arms wrapped around me from behind. “She’s not only my first real girlfriend, man; she’s the reason I f**kin’ breathe.”

Lexi and Ally aww-ed, watching Rome hold me close, as Cass pretended to stick her fingers down her throat.

Jimmy-Don took off his Stetson and fanned himself, shouting, “You’re killin’ me, man! Killin’ me!”

Rome slapped him on his back, laughing at his antics. “We’re headin’ out for the night. I need to get away from all this shit. We’ll catch y’all tomorrow.”

Romeo clasped my hand and headed for the door.

“Romeo, you’re shirtless,” I complained, almost tripping over as I stared at his lean figure.

He simply shrugged. “I plan to be naked in about forty minutes for a minimum of twelve hours, so what does it matter?”

“Great. Do you realise how many people are out there? How many girls are out there?”

“So f**k. I’m yours. Let’s go.”

22

SEC Championship, Georgia Dome, Georgia

“I can’t go out there into that!” I screeched as Cass and Ally tried to push me to our seats. The seventy thousand-seat stadium was packed to the rafters and the noise was ear splitting under the closed roof.

Cass put her hands on my shoulders and gave me her reprimanding expression. “If you don’t kiss Bullet when he runs out, it’s not only his parents who’ll be gunnin’ for your blood. We wanna beat the Gators! You owe it to the fans!”

I dragged my fingers down my face, and Ally yanked them away. “I spent hours on your look today. Don’t spoil it!”

My hair was down, curled, full of product, and my makeup was flawless. I sported my “lucky” Prince number seven jersey and my cowboy boots, but I was pretty convinced that it was all a waste as pure fear rendered me motionless. The Tide was ranked number one but was playing the Florida Gators to decide who would be going to the National Championship against Notre Dame in California next month.

I peeked around the corner and gulped at the wall of red-clad supporters and then to the Jumbotrons showing the Tide’s successful road to the championship. I couldn’t help but melt when Romeo—either moodily swearing at a mistake or happily jumping about in celebration—played across the screen.

Then I looked up.

“Ohmigod! There are flying cameras! I can’t do it. I’m going to be sick again.”

With a determined nod to one another, Cass and Ally each linked an arm through one of mine and pulled. I saw the cheerleaders run to the respective team’s tunnels and knew the guys would be announced soon.

I dug in my heels and Ally groaned, reaching in her pocket. She pulled out a small note.

“Rome anticipated you’d do this, considering you’ve been almost mute since we got off the plane, and gave me this use this as a last resort.”

Bugger. I loved his notes.

I unfolded it and it read:

Baby,

Get your ass out in the stands and stop freakin’ out.

I need my sweet lucky kiss to win.

This isn’t a request.

I love you.

Your Romeo x

I sighed, tucking the note in my pocket to take home and join all the others in my secret trinket box. Ally and Cass had huge grins on their faces.

“Well played, Romeo, well played,” I muttered to myself.

I threw out my hand just as the introductions came through the speakers. “Lead the way, you traitors!”

They laughed at my reluctance, relinked their arms in mine, and we walked to the pitch side and towards our seats. As if the Tide fans weren’t loud enough already, one look at me walking past had them going positively insane.

I sat down and tried to ignore the thunderous booms of shouts my way. The fans were euphoric and the cacophony of music from the band only added to the craziness. Pyrotechnics sounded and Alabama was announced, followed by the Florida Gators. The players flooded the pitch, a tapestry of crimson, white and blue, and I rubbed my hands together with nerves.

I knew the focus would be on Romeo. He was first draft potential and that came with some serious hype. He’d had a stupid amount of publicity over the last few weeks—interviews, press, TV. I’d normally be hidden in the back somewhere, well out of sight.




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