Page 47 of Show Me

“You like it when I get cocky, too.” I snapped my teeth at him playfully, and that he only gave me another shove in response confirmed I was right.

17

Sam

Reid glanced at me over his shoulder as he whipped the towel from around his neck.

Puckering his lips in a kissy face, he flexed one asscheek, then the other. “I can give you my glute routine if you want it?”

“I’m good.” I flipped him off. “I was just checking out what I can expect when middle age sag hits. You should try some more squats. That’ll give you a little lift.” Ihadbeen staring. Not the way he thought, though. I’d been trying to imagine him and Jesse together. It unsettled my stomach a little, though Reid’s ass was on point. No denying that. I made a mental note to add more squats to my lifting days.

Reid snorted and flipped me off in return. I turned away, running a towel over my hair as Coach barged in, rapping a rolled-up magazine against one of the lockers for our attention. “All right, clowns. A reporter fromCollegiate Athleteis here to do a profile of the team. He’ll talk to you in groups, then he’ll be back in a few weeks for the homecoming game. Don’t act like idiots.” He stared pointedly at me and Jansen, while Ackerman snickered on the bench beside me.

“No clue what you’re talking about, Coach.” I pasted on an angelic expression.

“Put some pants on over your jockstrap this time, or I’ll bench you for the first quarter of the game this weekend.”

Ouch.

Ackerman’s snicker turned into a low hiss. I elbowed him off the bench.

The dumb jockstrap thing had been his idea. But I was the only one who had actually ended up going through with the dare, which I considered a spectacular failure of sportsmanship on everyone else’s part. The reporter’s discombobulation had been entertaining, though. His eyes kept straying to the one ball hanging out of my jock—unintentional escape artistry on the part of my testicles.

That had been last season, though. I was on better behavior this year.

Fifteen minutes later, ten of us sat in the media room as the reporter—not the one who’d seen my nuts—held out his recorder to capture our responses while he asked questions.

They were garden-variety questions, and the guy seemed a little bored.

I knew I was. My thoughts kept straying to Jesse, the shower, the library, and the videos we’d made. The expression on his face when he got close to losing it, an addictive mix between pleasure and pain that I couldn’t get out of my head. Was I chasing a random thrill, or was it something else? I’d analyzed the events to death, and all I really knew was that I was eager for whatever was next.

Reid stretched his arm along the back of my chair and drummed his fingers against my shoulder. “Don’t be getting any ideas, Harding, I’m just stretching my arm,” he teased when I slowly swiveled my head toward him.

I rolled my eyes and snapped to attention when the reporter said my name. “I’m sorry, can you repeat the question?”

“I asked you how you were feeling this season after that shoulder injury sidelined you last year?”

“I’ve had a lot of PT and made a solid recovery, so I’m feeling pretty good about it. We’ve got a strong team this year.” I thwapped Reid when he pretended to snore. Maybe a little harder than I needed to. “Fuck off, I’m being good.”

The reporter angled the recorder toward Reid next. “Reid, you’ve got draft scouts looking at you pretty closely. How’s that feel?”

“Pretty damn good.” The reporter chuckled along with him. “I worked really hard over the summer to be the best I can this season.”

I gave him some side-eye for snoring at my answer when his was a total snoozefest, too.

“Silver Ridge is rigorous, academically speaking. Do you have any trouble balancing coursework, a social life, and football?”

“What social life?” Reid joked, then flashed one of his charming quarterback grins. “Nah. I miss seeing my boyfriend sometimes, but he’s amazingly understanding.”

I frowned as the reporter perked, all traces of his boredom fading. “Does your boyfriend play sports, too?”

“Nah.” Reid waved a hand. “And thank goodness. We wouldn’t see each other if he did.”

What the fuck? I tried to maintain a neutral expression, but the whisper of movement around me suggested this was news to the rest of the team, too. I didn’t know any of them to be homophobes, but Reid had gone to a lot of trouble after Jesse had dumped his ass to make sure everyone knew about all of his hookups with women.

I jabbed a finger in Reid’s back as we filed out of the room after the interview ended. “I thought you were seeing that blonde girl. Jenna?“

“Not really. We used to hook up, but it wasn’t serious.”