Game Changer by Kelly Jamieson Page 0,21

bed, you should be okay.”

My lips twitch. “Yeah, I guess I can spare one.”

“I noticed an extra blanket in the closet.”

I don’t feel right about this, but I know it’s ridiculous for me to offer to sleep there. “We could share the bed.” Holy shit. Did those words just come out of my mouth? “I mean, not…it’s a big bed. We can, ah, put pillows down the middle.”

She frowns and scrutinizes the bed. “Well, let me see how the lounge works. If it’s terrible, we can try that.”

She disappears into the bathroom.

Sighing, I find the blanket and spread it out on the chaise, then settle a pillow against the back of it. Then I pull back the fluffy duvet on the bed, on the side away from the chaise longue. I sit on the bed and plug my phone in. Guess I should have packed some pajamas.

I scroll through news and social media until Molly reappears. Aw, fuck me. She’s wearing a long T-shirt that shouldn’t be sexy, but totally is. It’s gray cotton, short-sleeved, the hem almost down to her knees, but she looks hot.

“I know this is weird,” she says, not looking at me, stuffing her clothes into her suitcase. “Let’s just try to ignore each other.”

Bahaha. Yeah, right.

I stand. “Okay if I use the bathroom now?”

“Of course.”

I wash up but keep my clothes on. When I return to the room, the lights are out except the small lamp beside the bed. Molly is a blanket-wrapped ball on the chaise. I sit on the bed to take off my clothes, leaving them on the floor, then slide into bed. With my light off too, the room is black as ink. And quiet. I can’t even hear her breathing.

I close my eyes and try to relax. It’s impossible not to be aware of Molly, even though I can’t see her or hear her.

I replay the day’s events. The flight. Molly’s nerves. Her warmth and compassion with my family. And with me.

And my nutso family, reminding why I was leery of making this trip. But I needed to be here and needed to see how things were with Grandpa. And honestly, I won’t regret spending more time with him while he’s still with us.

I hear a rustling noise and a soft sigh from across the room.

Damn. Now I’m thinking of Molly again.

This was a crazy idea, bringing her here, but I have to admit she held her own with my family, and having her with me sort of made things better. Other than when Grandpa accused me of stealing my teammate’s fiancée. But I’ll forgive him because, Jesus, he’s losing his mind.

Heaviness settles in my gut. Life is not fucking fair. But if anything good can come of it, it’s that Dad and Uncle Matt are making things up with Grandpa.

“Are you okay?”

The whispered question reached my ears across the room. I turn my head toward it. “Yeah. Why?”

“You made a noise. I thought you were in pain.”

I made a noise? Damn. “Sorry. I’m fine.”

“Okay. Night.”

“G’night.” I roll onto my stomach and wrestle my pillow into the right shape beneath me.

Quiet again.

Damn. I’m trying really hard not to think dirty thoughts. Because it’s Molly. My friend. My teammate’s fiancée. Ex-fiancée. But the only times I’ve shared a hotel room with a woman were for hot, filthy sex. Maybe it’s a conditioned response, that being in a dark hotel room make me think about sex. And since Molly’s the woman here, I’m thinking about it with her.

I know I shouldn’t. Should. Not. Go. There.

But my mind is taking over and I’m imagining Molly slipping into bed with me. Naked. Snuggling up behind me, her arm coming over my side, her hand finding my stomach…sliding lower…fingers curling around my hard-on.

Yeah, my dick is giving her a full salute.

Maybe I can wait till she’s asleep and rub one out. Fast and quiet.

My own hand pushes my boxers down and grips my engorged dick. Slowly, I tug. I swallow and grit my teeth as pleasure pours through me and I’m desperate for more.

I listen intently. I hear soft breathing. Is it deep and regular enough that she’s asleep? I’m not sure. I don’t want to embarrass her, but Christ, I’m hot and hard and I can’t stop myself from jerking my cock.

I close my eyes and swallow, jaw tense. My hand moves, sharp sensations prickling over my skin. My muscles tense as I stroke myself, harder, faster. Pressure builds in my balls, which are