On the Sideline (BSU Football #3) - J.B. Salsbury Page 0,8
curls at her hairline damp. “What are you doing here?”
I lean against the door frame, cross my arms at my chest and feel a sense of triumph when her eyes fall to my pecs making her cheeks flush even more. “My phone. I’m not leaving until I have it—hold on, is that my shirt?”
She looks down at the now trashed and bleach stained BSU Football shirt she’d been using to scrub her toilet and shrugs. “Is that what this is? Huh.” She hands it back to me.
“Keep it. I just want my phone.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“I can’t possibly imagine what you’d want to keep my phone for. It’s password protected, it’s not even the latest version, so please, just give it back.” I contemplate the rationality of sharing anything personal with this girl and decide it’s worth it. “It’s the only way my family can get in touch with me.”
That seems to do the job because her shoulders drop and she nods. She pushes to standing and I catch my breath at the sight of her body. Long legs, round hips that taper into a narrow waist, and her boobs…I stare at the ceiling, it’s the only safe place to look. While I’m staring at the ceiling she squeezes by me, and her skin is like warm velvet as it brushes against my bare arm. A delicate floral scent follows her past me and I wonder how anyone could smell this good while sweating. My blood tingles and gathers and I’m reminded of an article I read in Men’s Health that talked about human sex pheromones. How the smell of a person can lead to intense arousal. Is that what my body is reacting to?
The sound of drawers opening and closing behind me send me turning around and I frown when I see she’s slipped on an oversized t-shirt. Good. Because her figure is the type that can make a man forget his own name, or his reason for coming here in the first place.
She holds out my phone and when I open my hand she slaps it into my palm. “There. You can leave now.”
Nope, it doesn’t matter that she’s wearing a t-shirt, the memory of her topless is branded into my brain and her scent still fills my nose. “Why’d you keep it?”
“I didn’t.” Her big eyes grow bigger as she dramatically states the obvious. “You have it.”
“But why not give it to Riley when she asked you for it? Why lie?” The way her shoulders tense makes me wonder… “Why didn’t you tell me you had it today when I saw you with Ro and Emery?”
A fire lights behind her golden eyes. “Why didn’t you ask me for it in front of Rowan and Emery?”
“Don’t switch this around on me, you’re the one who stole my phone.”
“I didn’t steal it. I don’t want your stupid phone.” She reaches over and grabs hers, shoving it up toward my face. “Mine is brand new and a thousand times better than your piece of shit.” Her face crumbles as if she’s disappointed in herself and she throws her device to her bed. “Just go.”
“Just tell me why you kept it.”
She props her hands on her hips and I find myself wondering what it would feel like to replace her hands with my own. Her eyes meet mine and her jaw is tight, her lips thin as if she’s clamping them down to keep back the truth. “Why do you care?”
“I’m curious.” Hold on, why are we standing so close? Did we somehow gravitate toward each other while arguing? “After you tell me why I’ll go, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
“You’re dating my cousin, I’m sure I’ll see you again.”
And why does seeing her again make my chest expand with anticipation?
Her lips are still tightly closed.
“I made a mistake, I was drunk and in the wrong place, I’m sorry if I scared you or made you feel unsafe, but you threatened me with a snake to my dick!” I instinctively cup my junk just to remind myself that we all survived it. “I think we’re even. So why the phone—”
“You called me disgusting.” Her voice is so quiet, and yet it carries an explosive force.
I run a hand through my hair and palm the back of my neck as shame and guilt press in.
“I wanted to hurt you back.”
“Look, I’m…” Fuck, I can’t look at her, but I force myself. I owe her that much. “You’re not