Page 2 of Hidden Plays (Desert Football #1)

Direct hit. “What past? I didn’t know we had one.” I breathed in deeply. That was a fucking lie. But I wouldn’t let him know how much I hated him. It didn’t need to be a problem now.

Dipping his head with a soft snort, he said, “It figured you’d say that.” He crawled closer to me. “Get on your back. Now.” His hard gaze bore into me.

My stomach fluttered, and heat flooded my belly. Holy fuck, I liked that tone. I stared at him. “Fine.” I lay on my back on the mat, my legs long and arms at my sides. “Do your worst.” Dammit, this was not a sexual move. My dick plumped. Not now .

“Okay.” He crept next to me and grabbed my leg, just below the knee. “Lift this leg to your chest.”

“Sure.” As he guided my leg, I lifted.

I glanced at him, and his gaze flicked to mine, his blond hair falling around his stunning face. I should break the awkward silence. “What have you been doing since high school?”

His brows ticked. “Going to school. Same as you.” He twisted his lips. “Now let’s move to the left.” He guided my bent leg across my body. “Tell me if this hurts.”

A twinge rippled through my hip and down the outside of my leg. “Uh, hurts a little. It’s not bad though.”

With a smirk, he nodded. “Okay, your IT band is tight.” He worked my leg in a circle. “How much hip stretching have you been doing?”

“Enough.” Fuck, he saw me rolling the damn thing. I stared at the ceiling as he moved my leg to the side again.

“Can you stretch your leg out?” He held my knee, pushing it crossways over my body. As he leaned in, his breath whispered across my cheek. “Can you?”

My gaze swept to his, and my breath caught. The fucker was close with those thick lips of his. “Uh, let’s see.” I straightened my leg, and pain sliced through my hip. “Ow, fuck.” As I bent the leg again, my knee slipped from his grasp.

“Shit.” He toppled onto me as I lowered my leg, his chest pressed against mine, his head falling to my shoulder. “Damn it, sorry.”

I grabbed his shoulders, the heat of his body shivering over my skin. What sort of hell had I just walked into where Holden Cox was lying on top of me?

As he lifted his head, his gaze locked on mine and stayed for a beat, his cheeks growing pink. “Uh…” He blinked and pushed up, his hands flat on the mat on either side of me. “I didn’t mean?—”

“You told me he wasn’t queer?” Casey stood next to us, beaming at me with a shit-eating grin and chuckling, a towel thrown over his shoulder.

“I’m not.” Holden shifted his attention to Casey while brushing his hand down the back of his head. “Just slipped was all.”

I sat up, my straight arms behind me. What a perfect time to fuck with him. “Could have fooled me. Did you come over here just to cop a feel?” I arched a brow.

“No.” He scoffed. “You wish, but you’re nowhere close to my type, Matthews.” He tensed his lips. “And let’s keep things professional.” He glanced at Casey.

Holding his palms out, Casey said, “Hey, man, you’re on a football team now. Teasing each other is what we do.”

I tilted my head, eyeing Holden. “What’s the matter? Are you homophobic or something? ‘Cause if you are, you’ll have to deal with six of us.” The head coach had made sure the team would support and accept us. And now this fucker might not?

Throwing a glare at me, Holden said, “I’m not homophobic.” He dipped his head. “Let’s just, uh, I’ll work up some new stretches for you and email them to you. Okay?” He stood. “Let me know if you don’t understand what’s on the sheet.” With a peek at Casey, he twisted and left.

Raising my brows, I watched him go, his fine ass taunting me. “Well, you showed him.” I grinned at Casey.

Casey dropped his hand toward me. “Guess so.” He snickered. “I couldn’t have him molesting you in the middle of the weight room.”

Grabbing Casey’s hand, I rose on the mat to stand. “Shut up. He fell on top of me.” I tsked and slapped Casey’s ass. “Come on, let’s go shower.”

“Together?” He wagged his brows at me. “You know I’m on board for friends with benefits.”

“Jesus, you’ll fuck anything with a dick.” Barking out a laugh, I ambled toward the door. I wasn’t like that, never had been. I needed a genuine connection with a guy, which is why it never worked with Myles. I had a connection, but he didn’t. Shit, I had to get Myles out of my damn head.

Casey and I strolled out, down the hall, to the lockers. “When we get to the house, I want the full story about Holden.” He gave me a pointed look.

“Full story?” I drew a deep inhale. “There’s little to tell, but whatever.”

After showering and classes, I parked my Toyota 4Runner in the driveway of our house with Casey in the passenger seat. No other cars were around. “I think we’re the only guys at home.”

“Looks like.” Casey hopped out of the SUV and shut the door.

After climbing out, I followed him up the walkway to our home, a sprawling brick bungalow painted white, near to campus, with a tall willow centered in the landscaping rocks of the front yard.

Casey opened the door and stepped inside. “Home sweet home.” He strolled into our kitchen of white cabinets and black appliances and opened the refrigerator. “Protein drink?”

“Hell yes.” I dropped my backpack next to our blue sectional and sank into a corner. Classes had been mundane today, but I needed to get some reading done before tomorrow.

Joining me on the couch, Casey handed me a small carton of chocolate protein shake. “Here you go.” He fell in next to me and sipped his drink. “So, what’s the scoop on this Holden guy?”

“Like I said, he was the quarterback on my high school team. He was a year ahead of me.” I shrugged. “He was good, was supposed to have a scholarship at Penn State the last I heard.” But apparently it hadn’t happened.

“Okay, so he’s obviously not playing football anymore.” He peered at me.

“During the championships, he got hit…ha rd.” The memory floated through my brain. A defensive lineman clobbered him midair and then fell on Holden, contorting his leg?—

“And?” Casey sipped his drink.

“He left the game and missed the rest of the championship. We lost the next game.” I pursed my lips. “He was a damn good quarterback. Cocky as hell and sort of a dick off the field, though.”

“So, do you think they revoked his scholarship because of his injuries?” Casey knitted his brows. “That would suck.”

“Yeah, I heard he broke his leg and had an ACL tear. I know he needed surgery, but that’s the last I heard.” I twisted my shake in my hands and then drank some. If it had happened to me, I didn’t know how I’d recover. Playing football was my lifelong dream, and I knew it had been his as well.

“So, what’s up between you? Like, why don’t you like him? I mean, I’m cocky too, and you still love me.” With a cheeky grin, Casey patted my thigh.

Gritting my teeth, I said, “I was supposed to get the MVP award that year. I worked fucking hard and should have had my best year. But he stopped passing to me, and my stats suffered. Then he got the award.” Heat filtered through my chest. “I think it was a pity play. He got it because of the injury. And what good did it do him if he never played again?”

“Dude, not cool.” Casey lowered his brows. “You said he was a great quarterback. Don’t be a jealous bitch.”

I pressed my lips together and stared at my drink. “I’m not. The MVP should go to guys who are not only great on the field, but who are exceptional off it. Guys who have some humility, who?—”

“So, you think he’s a dick?” Casey narrowed his eyes. “He seemed like a decent guy to me today. He was helpful and knew his shit.”

Shifting my gaze to Casey, I said, “In high school, he ran around with the popular guys, you know? The jocks who get all the girls, the guys who run everything and have the teachers in the palm of their hand.”

“And you weren’t let into their little clique because you’re gay?” He wrinkled his forehead.

I never wanted to admit it…“Yeah, I think so.” I gulped my drink down. Casey understood. I could talk to him. “No one in my high school was outwardly shitty to me about my sexuality, but I received different treatment.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Same.” He slowly nodded. “You couldn’t break into the popular crowd because you were different, and it didn’t matter how many games you won or how well you did academically. If you liked pussy, it would have been a different story.”

“Yep.” I set my empty shake carton on the round wooden coffee table.

It hadn’t been Holden’s fault, but he might have made things worse for me.

Who knew what sort of bullshit he’d told his friends?

“I never got along with Holden.” I swung my gaze to Casey.

“Numerous times I was open, the obvious choice for a pass, and he handed the ball to our running back or tight end. I know Coach spoke to him about it several times.” Yeah, fuck Holden Cox.

“Do you think he’s secretly homophobic, maybe?” He studied me. “I mean, if he was then, it seems like he grew out of it.”

“I don’t know.” I sighed. “I don’t care either.” High school was over, and it was time to forget all that shit. Throwing him a quick grin, I said, “Thanks for the shake. I’ve got some reading to do.” I stood and threw my empty container into the trash bin next to the kitchen island.

“Okay, talk to you later.” He sprawled on the couch. “I’m taking a little nap before the guys get home.”

Later that evening, Eli Dawson, one of our linebackers on defense, stood in the kitchen cooking his infamous pasta dish with chicken, artichokes and sun-dried tomatoes. It was to die for, and I couldn’t wait. I hovered over a pot and looked inside at the simmering mixture. “When will this be done?”

Eli checked the pasta bubbling in a larger pot. “When you leave me alone.” He glanced at me, his brown eyes twinkling, the dark hair on his head a messy mop.

“Fine.” I strolled into the main room where the rest of the guys waited on the sectional, reading or watching the sports channel on the television.