Absolutely not. Seeing her sparkling blues right now will push me over the edge of the cliff, and I won’t be able to stop myself from kissing her. And once I’ve kissed her, I’ll want more.
“Don’t you dare.”
She titters in response, and we let the quietness hang after Leo’s footsteps die down.
“I think he’s gone,” Flo mutters, voice all breathy as she leans back a few centimetres—I can’t tell if it’s intentional—and places her shoulders into the space between my pectoral muscles. She fits so perfectly.
“Yeah, I think he has.”
Suddenly, the closet doors fly open, and Leo stands in front of us with the cheesiest grin spread on his lips. “Found you!” He does a little victory dance, holding his hand up for a high-five from both of us. “Okay, your turn to count!” His cape wafts in our faces as he rushes off.
Flo twists and glances up at me, eyes dropping down to my lips for a fleeting moment.
“You still have chocolate on your face,” I say as I instinctively use the pad of my thumb to wipe it from her soft skin. It’s so smooth, and her body shivers from my touch.
“Thanks.” Flo steps out of the closet, but I don’t fail to notice the way her eyes catch on the bulge in my pants, her face glowing as she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, teeth grazing against it.
“Don’t say a word.”
She holds up her hands defensively, cheeks balled up as she grins. “I don’t have to.”
“Okay, what’s got your panties in a twist?” My head inclines as I address Bennett, who’s sitting on the bench looking out onto the practice field, arms crossed and cap pulled down so far on his head that he’s almost eating it.
He’s sulking today.
His gruff response is, “Nothing,” as he focuses on Sam getting a quick calf massage from Cam across from us. He glares at me as I laugh at him, before howling in pain when Cam digs into a particularly painful spot.
“You’ve been moody since the evening at Mae’s, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bennett Quinn without a smile on his face. So, what’s the matter?”
“Don’t talk to me as if I’m your son. I’m not a child.”
“You sure look like one right now.” I nod to his slouched posture, pinched eyebrows and pouty bottom lip. “You’re reminding me of Leo when he doesn’t get his own way.”
“Maybe I’m making up for all the lost time I’ve spent not being a little bitch.”
That makes me chuckle, but I slap my friend on the back, hoist him up so he’s standing, throw his cap to the ground, and scruff up his almost black hair. “I can’t believe me, of all people, is having to cheer up someone else.”
Bennett sighs, scratching at the back of his neck as his lips tug in a smile. “You are a moody bastard.” But then he blinks. “West, man to man, if a friend of yours was putting themself in a position you don’t think is right for them, what would you do? Like, if you saw something that they didn’t?”
Well, that’s cryptic. “Um, wanna give me some more context?”
“No.”
“Ermm, okay, well, I’d probably say something to them? Tell them to get their head out of their ass?”
Bennett nods, but I can see him internally cringing. “I can’t say that to her.”
That sparks my interest. “Her?”
He clicks his tongue before grabbing his helmet from the bench. “I’ve already said too much. Forget this conversation ever happened, West.”
“Well, I’m not going to be able to do that, am I?”
Bennett claps my back as he pushes his helmet onto his head. “Sorry, can’t talk. I’ve got to get my head in the game.”
“Sure, whatever you say, Troy Bolton,” I mutter as he jogs back onto the field—Gracie’s favourite childhood film—rejoining the drill he’d taken a quick break from, leaving me furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.
16: Evan
