Page 21
Story: Guarded By the Goalie
“Yeah?” I ask, eyebrow raised. “How do I look to you?”
Because I really, really, want to know.
When she doesn’t answer, I add quietly, “Come on, tell me you haven’t thought about me since the other night?”
She swallows. “I haven’t thought about you. Not once.”
The pink on her cheeks tells me that we both know that’s a lie.
I worry my teeth over the piercing in my lip. “Maybe you just need a reminder.”
Her hand flies up, palm flat. “Nope.”
I blink at her hand. “Why?”
“Because,” she looks over her shoulder to where Twyler is feeling up Reese’s ribs, “we agreed to forget it ever happened.”
“Yeah, well I’m having a hard time with that because I keep thinking about how fucking hot you look when you come.” Her pupils dilate and her mouth parts. “Don’t tell me you’re not doing the same thing. Thinking about my mouth on your–”
“Oh my God,” she cuts me off with a grimace and whispers, “Do you ever give up?”
“Not when it’s something I want, T.” I hold her eye. “And right now, you’re what I want.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
I shrug. “Some people find my perseverance an attractive quality.”
“Well, I’m not one of them.” Again, her gaze lingers on the happy couple.
I frown. “If you’re really worried about them, they don’t have to know. I’ve got no problem with discretion.”
Her eyes sweep over me, traveling from my inked hands to the piercing on my lip, to the platinum hair on my head. “Nothing about you says discrete, Axel.”
I reach a hand out, placing it on her hip. “Then what does it say?”
Her hip eases forward, reservations slipping, but she recovers quickly, and eases back toward her friend. “Everything about you says that I’m not the only one that should be called trouble.”
“Dude,”Reese says, once we’re in my truck. With the crowds after the game, it’s best to have a car to make a quick exit instead of walking.
“What?” I adjust the heat, blasting it from the vents to cut the chill of the night.
“Stay away from her.”
I’m not sure I heard him right.
“Stay away from who?”
He stares at me for a moment, then rolls his eyes. “Nadia.”
“What about her?” I ask, shifting the vehicle into gear.
“Don’t pretend you weren’t hitting on her.”
I snort. “You mean you noticed something while you were mining for gold down your girl’s throat?”
“I noticed. You’re just lucky Twyler didn’t.”
“Even if she had, all she would have seen was two people talking after a game while their friends were making out across the parking lot.” I turn onto the road that leads to Shotgun. “What am I supposed to do while you two tongue fuck? Ignore her?”
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