Page 11 of Dario

"I asked Gemma to promise and tell me if he says anything else to her. I don't know if she will, but I tried."

We start walking, but this time it's towards the cafe. It's in the private part of the arena where the administrators work. Where Wyatt Peters has his office and where the large conference room is for team briefings. It's also where we find Gemma sitting alone with an empty sandwich wrapper in front of her.

"Get me my usual," I say to Madden, not stop- ping to see if he heard me, my sole focus on the woman who is oblivious to my approach. She is reading on a small tablet while slowly sipping from the bottle of water in her hand. Her head of curly hair is in a high ponytail, and even then, the ends reach her shoulders.

The dirty dreams I have had of Gemma and that glorious hair would turn her skin fire engine red if she were conscious of them. The image of her riding my dick, hair loose and bouncing around her, tickling my thighs, makes me feel hard and uncomfortable. Wishing I wore jeans instead of sweats, I quickly move around Gemma and sit at her table, making sure my lower half is out of sight.

Her shocked gaze lands on my face as a beautiful pink blush rushes along her cheekbones. "Madden told you."

"I'm sitting here because I want to sit with you. Madden's getting something to eat." I sigh and lean forward. "Yeah, he told me." I search her eyes. "Has Davy ever said anything like that to you before?”

She turns off her reader and sets it on the table.

"He's made strange comments before, but nothing like today. Davy apologized after Madden left." She shrugs. "Surprised me. He never apologizes."

"Keep a diary," I suggest. "Every time he makes a comment, write it down. Date and time it, too."

"I do." She smiles. "Are you ready for the big game coming up?”

I search her face for a moment and decide to let her change the subject, at least for now. "We have a love-hate relationship with the Detroit team." I shrug. "It will be interesting."

"You mean there will be more fighting than usual." Gemma rolls her eyes.

Madden interrupts, pushing a tray of food onto the table. "Brought you a slice of cake, Gemma. I thought you could use something to cheer you up after that asshole."

She giggles. The sound goes straight to my balls. Madden, the asshole, knows where my head is because he's laughing and shoving food at me. "Eat," he says.

"Yes, Mom!" I reply, a smirk on my lips.

"Where are you from, Gemma?" Madden asks her.

"A little town a few hours west of here." She shrugs. "Nothing to write home about, to be honest. I was glad to get away."

"Why is that?" he asks.

I kick Madden under the table. "Ouch, that hurt."

"It's okay." She puts a hand on mine, and prickles of awareness shoot through my blood.

"My dad was and is the town drunk," she admits. "It wasn't good growing up when the whole town knew. Kids can be cruel."

I turn my hand over and take her hand. "I'm sorry you had to put up with that."

She squeezes and let’s go. I don't like it. I want to touch her and let everyone know she is mine. I want to touch her again. I want more.

"We're having lunch and you forgot to tell me, huh?" Rhodes says, pulling out a chair. His eyes go to Gemma, which I don't like. I like it even less when he asks, "Has everything been, okay?"

I frown and look at Gemma. It’s a strange question to ask. Gemma blushes and nods.

"What's going on?" I don't like being left out of anything that involves Gemma.

Gemma looks everywhere but at me, so I turn to Rhodes. "Explain?"

He sighs. "A little grocery shopping problem. It's all good."

I don't think so, and I want to talk to Rhodes later so as not to embarrass Gemma, which she obviously is.

Madden clears his throat. "Gemma, do you have any information on the two new players that will be joining us in New York?"