Just keep telling yourself that.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Hey, yourself.” I roll out of bed—determined to prove sex with the cocky QB hasn’t short-circuited my brain—and grab a pair of pajamas from my dresser. I tug the shorts on before pulling the tank top over my head. No time to worry about bed head or bad breath. I’ve got to get him out of here before Becca sees him. When I turn around, Austin’s still lying in bed, the sheet covering all his best parts. Bummer. “Let’s go, Sleeping Beauty. Time to rise and shine or whatever it is you do on a Sunday morning.”
“I usually like to sleep in.” He locks his hands behind his head, looking way too comfortable in my bed. “Maybe spend the day in bed,” he says, wiggling his brows.
“So not happening.” I shoot him a dark look. “Unless you want the whole campus knowing what happened last night, you need to get up and get out of here before Becca sees you.”
That gets his attention. He sits up, dropping his feet to the floor with a leisurely grace I will forever associate with ballet lessons.
“You can go out the window or you can go out the door, but you have to go now.”
“One small problem.”
One? More like half a dozen, but who’s counting? There’s another thump from Becca’s room. I crack the door to the hall, relief flooding my veins. The coast is clear. For now. When I turn around, Austin’s just standing there in his boxer briefs—which leave little to the imagination—staring at me with a bemused expression and a wicked case of bed head. Or maybe it’s sex hair. I seem to remember running my fingers through it last night. Either way, one thing’s clear. He’s not budging.
He hooks a thumb toward the window, cocky grin securely back in place. “We’re on the second floor.”
“Good point.” I scoop up his clothes from the foot of the bed and thrust them into his arms. “Front door it is,” I whisper, grabbing his arm and dragging him into the hall. He’s still not moving fast enough for my liking, so I slip around behind him and give him a little shove, scooting him toward the front door even as he protests.
Funny thing about whispered protests: they’re ineffective.
Mostly.
“I’m just saying, this gives new meaning to the walk of shame.” He turns and leans in close, grabbing a strand of my hair and twisting it around his fingers. “I feel so used.”
“I seriously doubt that.” Guilt rears its ugly head, but I shut that bitch down. Becca cannot find Reid in the apartment again. Especially half-naked. She will never believe the old “nothing happened” lie and even though I’m ninety-nine and a half percent sure she’d never spill the tea, it’s a chance I can’t take. Coach would have a shit fit if he caught wind of this, and I don’t even want to think about my mom’s reaction because I’m pretty sure only cockroaches could survive the fallout.
Which is why Austin’s got to go.
I can cross the living room in ten steps when I’m late for class (which is often), but with my one-night stand dragging his heels, it feels like twenty. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he wants to get caught. When we finally reach the door, I release the deadbolt, wincing at the loudthwack!I glance back to confirm Becca’s door is still shut; then I open the door and gesture for him to hurry up.
“What? No goodbye kiss?” he teases, stepping out onto the cement walkway that connects all the second-floor apartments.
I blow him a kiss and shut the door without another word. The sun’s shining and there are birds singing somewhere nearby, but it’s the sound of Austin’s low chuckle that pierces me as I drop my forehead to the door and count to ten.
Once I’m sure we’re in the clear, I climb onto the couch and peek out the front window. Austin hasn’t bothered to put his clothes on, so I’ve got a nice view of his ass. Apparently when you’ve got a giant package, walking around the complex in your underwear is no big deal. Two girls approach from the opposite direction, giggling as they pass him by. His steps don’t falter and even though his back is to me, I know he’s giving them that cocky QB grin, because only Austin Reid could pull off the walk of shame in his underwear.
Not that it matters since last night’s hookup was a onetime deal.
29
AUSTIN
I barely makeit to study hall on time, not that anyone’s taking attendance. Still, I’m the team captain, and it doesn’t look good to be sliding in late. Football players get plenty of exceptions on campus, but gaming the system isn’t my style.
It’s not the kind of example I want to set for the guys.
When I drop my bag at the table next to Coop, I scan the room, trying to be subtle as I search for Kennedy. She’s been avoiding me since our hookup. Which makes no sense. The sex was incredible. No way she wasn’t satisfied. Hell, she came four times. Granted, she was pretty freaked out about the sleepover. Can’t say I blame her there. I’ve never spent the night with a woman before, but it’s no big deal. We’re both mature adults. And I can’t say I hated falling asleep with her curves tucked against my body.
“Did you bring food?” Parker asks. “I’m starving.”
“No. I had a mandatory meeting with my advisor.” The uptight dick is one of the few profs on campus who isn’t exactly falling all over himself to accommodate the football program. I’m pretty sure he purposely assigned me a meeting time that would conflict with football practice and when I asked for a different time slot, he refused. But the guys don’t need to know my advisor’s a prick or that I missed dinner. They’ve got their own shit to deal with. “No time to stop.”
“First Carter blows us off.” Coop tips his chair back on two legs, arms crossed over his chest. “And now you forget the snacks. I’m not really feeling the love, brother.”
“Feel this,” I say, giving him the one-finger salute. “I’m your captain, not your nanny.”
