On the Sideline (BSU Football #3) - J.B. Salsbury Page 0,16
heard a little accent.”
“There’s not much left of it.” His light eyes slip from my face to my bare shoulder and slide along my collarbone to my neck.
A shiver races up my spine.
“You’re cold.” He looks through my eyes as if he’s searching for the answer to a question.
“I am, I need to get changed.” I need to get out of here. I should not be standing in the kitchen with the guy my cousin is dating having the kind of thoughts I’m having.
He steps back, releasing me from an invisible hold.
I whirl around and race up the stairs grabbing my bag I left in Emery and Spider’s room and taking it to the bathroom in the hallway. I close the door, lock it, then lean my back against it and try to catch my breath.
Loren
For the first time in the three years I’ve lived in this house, I’m grateful my room is directly across the hallway from the bathroom. Bex locked herself inside seven and a half minutes ago, and I’ve been sitting on my bed, elbows to my knees watching the doorknob, waiting for her to come out.
I know if I don’t, she’ll slip out the front door without so much as a goodbye, and I don’t want that. I need to walk her out, see her safely into an Uber, and if it were up to me, I’d like to know she got back to her room safely. I know I can’t ask for these things, she’s not mine to protect, but she is Riley’s cousin, and what kind of a man would I be if I didn’t ensure her safety.
The bathroom door opens, and I launch off the bed toward her and thankfully slow my pace before she looks up and sees me too eager. She’s wearing plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt that is cut smaller to fit her feminine curves. Not nearly as sexy as the swimsuit she was wearing when I first spotted her at the hot tub. I watched her out the window from my room while I slipped on my swim trunks. She looked like a 1950’s pinup model with the high waisted bikini bottoms and the strapless bustier-style top. She has a body designed by God to meet a man’s every desire.
Not that I care.
I’m just making the observation.
“Were you waiting for me out here?” she says when she spots me in the hallway.
“Yes, I wanted to give you something before you go.”
Her breath hitches ever so slightly, causing me to wonder what she thinks I’m about to give her.
I hold out the sticker I saw her admiring at Carver’s when she was there, the one with the pythong. “I saw you looking at it in the shop.”
She can’t seem to take her eyes off the sticker as she plucks it from my hand and I get a rush of satisfaction when she laughs at the pun again.
I’m responsible for that smile. My chest warms.
“You bought this for me?” She still hasn’t looked up from the sticker.
“Don’t get too excited, I get a sixty-five percent discount.”
Finally she looks up at me and I see nothing but awe and appreciation in her gaze. “I can pay you back—”
“Don’t be dumb, it’s nothing.” Not even pocket change for her, little Ms. American Express Black Card.
“Loren…”
I nearly groan at the sound of her saying my name. She’s never said it before.
“This is really, really sweet.” She presses the sticker to her chest and I feel irrationally jealous of the cartoon snake. “No one has ever…” She shakes her head. “Thank you.”
I shrug, pretending like it’s no big deal, even though everything behind my ribs is telling me otherwise. Indigestion from all that fried food, I’m sure. “You’re welcome.”
A few moments of silence expand between us. I study every freckle that dusts her nose and cheeks and wonder what it would taste like to kiss every one—
“I should go.” She gathers her bag on her shoulder and turns to the steps.
“I’ll walk you out.”
“You don’t have to do that.” She has her nose to her phone to order an Uber.
“Where are your glasses?”
“My bag. It’s fine, I’m not totally blind.”
I open the door for her and follow her out to the front steps. She drops her bag but doesn’t sit. “It says they’re only five minutes away.”
I get the feeling she’s dismissing me. If I only get five minutes with her I’m going to milk every last second. I take a seat on the