Yeah, I recognize desire when I see it.
He swallows again, and when he lifts his hand to do who knows what, it trembles before forming a fist and falling back into the sand with a soft thud.
This time, his gaze does flicker to mine, and I hold it. The intensity emanating from him is almost overwhelming.
This time, I feel the need to swallow, not because I'm uncomfortable, but because the attraction between us is palpable.
And this time, it’s my hand that lifts, gently dusting some sand off his cheek with the back of my hand, making his eyes fucking flare.
But the heat is gone just as fast as it came up. I can see the exact moment he pushes down whatever it was that was happening. Instead of awkwardness, or disgust at my body’s reaction, he just gives me a soft smile, his dimples popping out.
“I know I have a spectacularly nice body, but I didn’t think it was so awesome that when I flip my shirt off you would trip all over yourself. Thanks for the ego boost.”
I chuckle half-heartedly, thankful for him getting us out of this weird stare-off. I push myself up so I'm sitting. “Don’t flatter yourself, man. It’s windy today, I had some sand in my eyes.”
Tyler, who also sits up now and is busy dusting himself off, cocks his eyebrow and looks up at the very blue, very still sky. “Right, very windy.”
“Careful now, or I’ll have to tackle you again. I thought big beefy football players like you were hard to take down?” I grin, happy that we're bantering back and forth again like usual.
He actually smirks at that as we get up, before shoving his hands through his dark hair to get the sand out. “Yeah? Wanna test it out on the field, dude? Think your puny soccer muscles can keep up? Where the hell is my hat anyway?”
I glance around and spot it a couple of feet away; it's a navy one this time, with some white letters from some football team I don't know shit about. I grab it and put it on my own head while he's finishing getting the sand off.
Unfortunately, he puts his shirt back on, covering up my awesome view. When his head pops out of the shirt and he notices me checking him out, he gives me a knowing grin before shaking his head.
“You’re absolutely incorrigible. Come on, let’s take a shower and then have breakfast.” He peeks at his smartwatch. “We're later than we normally are, so I think the team is already there.”
I snort. “I don’t know how you do it, man.”
“Do what?” He asks as we start heading home.
“Never sleep in.”
He frowns. “What? You don’t sleep in either. You’re here almost every morning.”
“Maybe, but I’ve got a secret, you know.”
“Yeah? What is it?” He tries to grab his hat from my head, but I dodge him. Like the quarterback he is, he sees my move comingand steals it anyway, pushing me aside, making me nearly topple over again.
I chuckle at his antics, but lean in very close and stage-whisper, “Sometimes, when I don’t have class, I go back to bed when I get home.”
He mock gasps. “Oh, you fiend!”
“Fiend? What kind of word is that? I know your girlfriend is older than you, and you basically act like you’re retired already, but come on, keep up with the lingo, old man.”
He laughs again and starts a slow jog, never getting tired, that one. “I’ll race you home, bud. Let me show you what this old man can do. And why the heck are you calling me an old man? You’re older than me.”
“Ah yes, but you have to learn it on an old bike, you know?”
He stops his jog and turns around. “You what the what?”
Taking advantage of his confusion, I up my speed and run past him. “It’s a Dutch saying, Google it!” I shout over my shoulder, before taking off in a sprint. He might be more built than I am, but I’m still a soccer player. We're agile and built for speed, so I know I can totally beat his brawny ass.
I do beat his brawny ass, but he still arrives before me at the cafeteria for breakfast. Because when I finally walk in, freshly showered and all, I see him sitting with Lamar and some other guys from their team at their usual table.
I quickly fill up a plate with some eggs with toast and grab myself a yogurt with some fruit. I still totally love this meal plan that I have in my partial scholarship, they sure want them athletes to be fed. Not that I’m playing much soccer to be honest,being benched all the damn time. I’ve yet to play more than half a match, and I know that it has got nothing to do with my skills, because these idiots don’t know good soccer when the ball would hit them in the face.
In Europe soccer is just so much bigger, and I totally understand why it was so easy for me to get this partial scholarship with some help from Missy, because this team just isn't that good. Not that I’m that great either. But I know how to play a decent game thanks to all of the years my dad made me play it as a kid, and I for sure am better than most of this lot here.
