I glanced around the neighborhood for nothing more than an escape plan or time to decide if I was doing the right thing.
I wouldn’t lie. I wanted him. But I wasn’t his type, so no harm, no foul. Not to mention, spending the night anywhere but my house was far better than arguing with my mom.
Once I was standing in the foyer, Lucas flicked a switch, and a lamp glowed beside a chair near the couch.
I absently picked at a nail, scanning the space. A clean living room decorated nicely with leather furnishings and geometric wall art, a decent-sized kitchen in the distance, and a dining room to the left of the stairs. I was expecting empty red cups, trash scattered around, and beer bottles piled high. I was so wrong. Even the scent of pine hanging in the air confirmed that Ryker and Lucas were neat freaks.
“What will all the touchdown bunnies say when they learn I spent the night in Lucas Allen’s house?” My nerves were evident in my tone. Damn it.
“Don’t care. Besides, I don’t kiss and tell. If you thought that, you have me all wrong.” He whisked a hand through his hair, and suddenly, I wanted to be that hand.
He crossed the wood floor and turned on the TV. “Make yourself at home. I’ll grab some water.”
Water sounded refreshing. I couldn’t drink another drop of liquor. If I did, I might make an ass out of myself.
I padded over to an oversized fabric chair, dropped my purse, then sat on the couch. The second the buttery leather swallowed me up, I felt the tension pour out of me.
“What do you want to watch?” Lucas asked, returning with two bottles of water that he set on the coffee table.
“I don’t want to keep you up.” My heart was racing at the possibility of what came next.
“I’m not tired.” He appeared to be wide awake, for sure.
“Would you mind taking me to Bailey’s when she texts me?” I asked. “Or I can walk if you point me in the right direction.”
He folded his big body onto the cushion next to me. “I told you. Bailey and Erik won’t surface until late tomorrow morning. But if you want me to take you home, just say the word.”
Nodding, I gulped down a mouthful of water then returned the bottle to the table before I kicked off my flip-flops and got comfortable.
He opened Netflix. “What would you like to watch?”
Nothing. I want to have sex.
On screen, a list of TV shows were below the heading Continue Watching, and one of those shows was Bridgerton.
I angled my head at him. “You’re watching Bridgerton?”
“I plead the Fifth.” He chuckled, a sound that drove the butterflies to take flight. “Haven is.”
“Liar,” I fired back.
He shrugged. “You know the sex in that show is hot. Have you watched season one?”
A flush pinched my cheeks. “Maybe.” Bailey and I had a weekend binge watching party.
He flicked on the show, and season two, episode one started.
It was silent except for the voices coming from the TV, and my every nerve was on high alert. I kept my eyes glued to the screen like it could save me from making a move I might regret or might not. Sitting next to the most coveted football player on campus, who’d already shown me a side I wasn’t expecting to like this much, I felt like I was on the edge of a cliff ready to free-fall.
Kiss him. That devilish voice in my head egged me on. I almost had kissed him in Leigh’s room.
“Lucas?”
“Yeah.” He paused the show.
I gnawed on my bottom lip, my heart ramming against my chest. “Never mind.”
“What is it? Don’t be afraid to say whatever is on your mind. I don’t bite.”
