It’s a selfie of Silas, sitting in his bed, shirtless, sweatpants low on his waist. The band of his boxers is sticking out. A book is resting next to him. Oh, and he’s wearing his glasses. It’s basically my own personal porn.
“Sweet Jesus.” I shake my head as I zoom in a little closer at the outline of his dick. It’s large, even covered. There is absolutely no mistaking its size.
My phone rings, startling me, and I nearly drop it.
“Hello?” I say quietly. I don’t want Charlie or Beck to hear me.
“Brooke,” Silas says in his deep, grumbly voice.
“Hi, Silas.” I smile, and I’m sure he can hear it in my voice.
“Are you alone? Is this a good time?” he asks.
“Yeah, we got home from dinner a while ago. I’m just getting ready for bed.”
“You aren’t going to wait until midnight?”
“Nah, I’m tired.” I don’t want to tell him I don’t see the point since I don’t have anyone to share it with. That sounds slightly pathetic.
“I’m pretty tired, too, and I can’t drink right now, so I’ve just been hanging out in my room since dinner,” he says, and it sounds like he’s stretching.
“Casey and Noelle are there, right?” I ask.
“Yeah, they’re here, and so are Bo and Chelsea. I think she was thinking about going to Florida, but changed her mind. She didn’t want to be away from Bo or something.” He chuckles.
“Ah, yes. That makes sense.” I settle into my bed and lean against the propped pillows.
Neither of us says anything for a beat, and then I hear him huff out a breath.
“So, I finally got your number. I’m not gonna lie; I’m feeling like we might be friends now.” He laughs.
“Silas, we’ve been friends. Just not texting or calling friends.” I smile.
“Well, I couldn’t exactly ask anyone for your number without raising suspicion, could I?”
“Yeah, I guess not,” I say quietly. “Are you excited for Vegas?”
“Fuck yes. I can’t wait to get there and just get it done. I think we’re ready, and Callaway is on fire right now.”
“He’s playing well for sure. But you all are. I’m so happy for y’all. It’s an exciting time. When we won the national championship a few years ago, it was pure chaos on the field afterward. I can only imagine what it must be like for you guys.”
“I can’t wait to experience it. Bowl games are one thing, butwinning the whole damn thing … yeah … I might even cry.” He laughs, but I think he might be serious.
These guys get pretty emotional at the big games. All their hard work and sacrifices they make—and honestly, that the families make too—feel worth it.
“Some guys do cry. I was crying when we won. Seeing Beck that happy was really emotional for me.”
“Did Beck cry?” He laughs. “I can’t see him crying. About anything.”
I giggle. “No, he didn’t. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him cry. Even when we were little. He tends to hold his emotions close to his chest. Maybe not with Charlie, but in general.”
“I can see that. You’re coming to Vegas, right?”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “I am.”
“Good. I’m glad.” He clears his throat. “So …”
“Yes?” I singsong.
