A rough sound escapes me, low in my throat. My hands are on her before I even think about it, my fingers gripping her waist, feeling the heat of her skin throughmyjersey.
“You’re actually trying to kill me, aren’t you?” I mutter, voice rough.
She bites her lip, fingers toying with the fabric. “You like it?”
My gaze drags over my name stretching across her back, and something tightens in my chest.
“You have no idea what this is doing to me,” I mutter, my hands sliding over her waist.
“I think I do,” she murmurs, biting her lip.
I step in, closing the space between us, pressing against her. She shifts just slightly—just enough for her ass to brush against me.
“Reed? Where are you, man?”
Austin’s voice makes us both freeze. Isabella’s eyes widen in panic, and she steps back, her fingers scrambling to pull her brother’s Westbrook jersey over mine, covering up my name.
Fuck. This is stupid. Too risky. Sneaking around in a house full of people who’d kill us if they knew what was going on.
I can’t help but glance at her—her hair’s a mess, her cheeks flushed. She looks so beautiful.
“Uh, just a second!” I shout, my voice coming out way too high.
She mutters a quiet, “Shit” under her breath as she adjusts her hair.
I just wanna pull her back in my arms and kiss the shit out of her, mess her hair up all over again.
My forehead lightly presses against hers for a second, and I close my eyes. “I just wanna be alone with you,” I whisper against her skin.
She nods against me, her fingers curling around the nape of my neck.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, and pull away from her, pushing open the door, making sure the coast is clear.
I step into the empty hallway and head toward the living room.
Austin’s lounging on the couch, and as soon as he spots me, he throws his head. “Fucking finally. Where the hell were you? Never mind, forget it. Get dressed. We’re hitting the bar to celebrate.”
Coach looks over at me a hint of a smile crossing his broody face. “You guys did good tonight. You deserve a little fun. I’ll even turn a blind eye to the drinking.”
Nathan lifts his brows. “You in?”
A grin pulls at my lips, the guys’ excitement about celebrating our win hits me. But the idea of being at a bar, girls hitting onme left and right when the only girl I want is one I can’t have? Yeah, that doesn’t sound like celebrating. I just want to be with her. But obviously, I can’t tell them that.
“Uh, nah. I think I’ll stay in tonight,” I say, running a hand through my hair.
Coach gives me a hard look. “You good, kid?”
I feel the heat rise in my skin under his stare, and I scramble for something that sounds halfway believable. “Yeah, yeah. Just… feel like staying inside.” I clear my throat and fake a cough, hoping that sells it.
His frown deepens. “Are you sick? You gonna be good for the next game?”
Shit. “No. I’m fine. Just a… uh, day cough.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Day cough?”
“Yeah.” Christ. This sounds fucking dumb. “Must be the dust or something. It’ll be gone by tomorrow.”
Coach doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he doesn’t push it. He studies me for a second longer. “You want me to stay?”
