On the Sideline (BSU Football #3) - J.B. Salsbury Page 0,13

my shirt—no, I’d take my shirt off. I’d need to feel the heat of her soft, warm body pressed against me. Our kiss would become frenzied, wet, and I’d lick down her throat to her—my phone pings.

“Shit.” My heart is racing and what do you know, my hand is still between my legs, but this time behind my open zipper. “What am I doing?” I snag my phone and read Riley’s reply.

I could spend the night. Wink

Sex with Riley. I run the scenario through my mind, frustrated that it lacks the vivid imagery and responding arousal. The best thing I can do is forget about Bex. My life was just fine before I accidently wound up in her bed. And she tried to have me attacked by a snake! Have I so easily forgotten the hell she put me through that night?

I know what I need to do. I text my response and hit send before I can change my mind.

Saturday night. I’ll pick you up at six.

I release a shaky breath, fasten my jeans, and open my econ book, all while telling myself that sleeping with Riley is the right thing to do to silence my gut that tells me it’s not.

Chapter Five

Loren

Friday night and Kaipo and I called an impromptu guys night out. Spider and Carey are surgically attached to their women’s hip and since football season ended we’ve seen very little of them. Not that I blame them; if I had an all I could eat buffet in my bed, I’d never leave either.

Still, to maintain proper levels of testosterone, we insisted on dragging them out for a night of sports and scantily clad waitresses. The campus sports bar is packed and all sixty big screen TVs are playing everything from boxing to bowling. We just annihilated every deep fried appetizer on the menu as well as five pitchers of IPA.

Carey leans back from the table, lifts his arms above his head for the halftime stretch. “Didn’t we order potato skins?”

I point to the empty plate in front of Kaipo while chewing the last of a chicken wing. “We ate ‘em.”

Carey waves down our waitress. “We need another round.”

Spider shoves a full pitcher of beer his way.

“Not beer. Food.” He turns to the waitress. “We’ll take another order of all this.” He motions to the table. “Please.”

“Don’t you ever get full?” I rub my gut feeling like a stuffed turkey. “I can’t eat anymore.”

Kaipo raises a hand. “I’m game.” He whirls his finger in a circle. “’Nother round.”

Spider shrugs. “We’ve got until midnight, may as well keep eating.”

I push my plate away, grab my beer, and slump back in my seat watching a replay of the Monaco versus Manchester City soccer game. “What happens at midnight? You return your balls to Emery or they turn into pumpkins?”

Kaipo chuckles. “Naw, cousin, she has those locked up real good. He’s never getting those back.”

Carey swoops in to save his fellow pussy-whipped friend. “Emery and Ro are having some kind of girls night in. A moonbathing party or some shit. Frosty drinks, Bob Marley, and the hot tub.” A slow smile pulls his lips and it doesn’t take much to decipher the reason for his excitement. His woman buzzed and wet and warm, I get it. Fucking asshole.

“They made us promise we’d give them till midnight,” Spider says, his eyes on the soccer game too.

“It’s ten o’clock. What the hell do women do just hanging out for four hours?” Paint each other’s nails, braid hair? Emery and Rowan live and work together, you’d think they’d have nothing left to talk about.”

Carey’s eyes dart to mine. “You ever see the three of them run out of shit to talk about?” He shakes his head.

“The three of…” My eyes widen as realization hits me in the beer buzz. Rowan, Emery, and Bex. Grateful my roommates are distracted by the game, they don’t see my change from casual to alert. Bex is at my house, in my pool, wearing… I swallow thickly at the images that flicker through my mind. I squeeze my eyes closed and push away the thoughts of Bex’s bare legs wrapped around my waist as I pin her against the side of the pool.

Riley. Riley. Riley.

“Ro’s a lightweight.” Carey still watches the game. “Bet they’re all passed out cold.”

Spider grunts in agreement.

“Hmm.” I clear my throat, take a long pull from my beer and try to act casual. “That’s true actually.” I take another gulp of beer. “Remember what