Maybe only slightly less terrifying than the fact that I would look at him exactly the same way?—
If I wasn’t so damned scared.
Because if there’s one thing I want most in the world…
It’s to give in to my want for Colt.
But if there’s one thing I know…
It’s that will never happen.
Four
Colt
A goal, an assist, and a win all while hyperaware of the woman watching—hopefully—from above.
Then press and working my way through my cooldown routine.
A check in with the training staff.
My post-game meal of chocolate milk and a slice of pepperoni pizza with hot honey.
(A man has needs and oftentimes those needs are fulfilled with pizza topped with hot honey).
But, pizza or not, nothing is as good as the soft laughter fluttering through the hallways.
My footsteps slow, gaze drifting to the right and clinging to Kylie’s face.
Her smile…fuck, but it’s beautiful.
Then my eyes skate down her body and fuck, but that’s beautiful too.
Curved exactly as I like—breasts that will overflow my hands, hips that lead to a lush ass I want to kiss and stroke and bite.
I’ve fantasized about her so damned much I can picture it.
How I’ll stroke her. How I’ll kiss her.
How I’ll fuck her.
If I can ever get her to really look at me, talk to me, touch me.
If she’s not scared of me.
If she sees me?—
Damon’s phone rings and he looks down with a curse, hand shoving into his pocket. He scowls when he pulls it out and looks at the screen, says something to Kylie. She nods and then he’s gone, disappearing around the corner.
Leaving us alone in the hallway.
Not that she’s noticed me.
Except, even as that thought crosses my brain, her head comes up, eyes connecting with mine.
Hey, gorgeous.
She jerks, as though she’s heard those words sliding through my mind, her gaze tearing away from mine, her shoulders hunching up.
