“The world doesn’t need to know everything about us. Liam, in particular, is extremely private,” he says, and it’s funny to think that his best friend is the one professional athlete who might be even more closed off than he is. Which is why seeing them together in Liam’s home, totally at ease, was such a treat. “No one expected him to be the star he is today, honestly. Least of all him.”
“Why not?”
“Not an exceptional college quarterback, middling performance at the Combine, fourth-round draft pick, traded after two years of riding the bench in San Francisco, and after three years as the backup here, he only ended up playing because our QB got injured mid-game. But he rose to the occasion, and the rest is history.”
I didn’t know all of the “history,” only that people are saying he might be the greatest quarterback of all time, which is why taking this year off, at his age, has everyone speculating about whether he’ll be as good when he comes back next season.
Aidan sharing this side of him, bringing me to his childhood home, introducing me to his best friend, and trusting me with all of this when I know how private he can be... all of it feels significant.
Which is why, as he lets us into the house, turning and boxing me in against the closed front door, I have to remind myself that none of it means anything, even if it feels like it does.
When he dips his head and trails kisses along my jaw, telling me that he’s been thinking about getting me alone for weeks, I have to remind myself that this is the moment where I might start thinking it allmeans something.
I’m not going to make that mistake this time.
Not even when he scoops me into his arms and walks us up the stairs. Not even as he gently removes each item of my clothing in his bedroom. Not even as he lays me down and props himself over me, while his hands roam my body and he tells me I’m perfect. Not even as our bodies are joined and he’s saying that the best part of being home is having me here with him.
This is just how he does casual.Friends with benefits, and nothing more.
Chapter Thirty
AIDAN
Iam so unaccustomed to waking up with someone in my bed that the feel of soft hands stroking my skin sends a shot of adrenaline flooding through my system.
My eyes jolt open. The soft light of early morning filters through the curtains, illuminating my room, and memories of Morgan and me here last night flash through my mind. I’m not sure if it’s those memories, or the way she’s curled up against me on her side as she trails her hand along my abdomen, sinking perilously close to my dick, that has me so hard.
With her eyes still closed, she lets out a soft groan and her knee slides over my quad as she brings her center right up against my thigh, leaving a trail of wetness along my skin. As tempted as I am to see where this leads, I’m pretty sure she’s still asleep and I don’t want her to wake up mid-thigh ride, humiliated that I watched her do something she wasn’t aware she was doing.
“Hey,” I say, bringing the backs of my fingers to her cheeks and running them across her freckles I’m always so desperate to see.
She freezes right as her hand slips onto my cock, and I can’t stop the way my hips press up into her waiting hand. She opensher eyes, her gaze locked on mine before her cheeks turn pink.I fucking love it when she blushes.
“Oh my god, was I just . . .”
“Desperate to be with me, even in your sleep? Yeah, I think so,” I tease.
She groans and goes to roll away, but I curl my arm up and around her back, holding her to my side. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m feeling the exact same way. I already woke up hard for you. You’re just helping me along.”
The way she stares at me without blinking makes me wonder if she’s never woken up to morning sex with someone. To be fair, I haven’t either, not for about a decade. But it seems like a really good idea right about now.
“Don’t tell me you’re not turned on,” I say, letting my fingers trail along the ridge of her cheekbone before I tuck her strawberry blonde waves behind her ear. “You’re so wet it’s all over my thigh.”
“Well, that’s humiliating,” she says.
“You can call it humiliating, but I’m going to call it my favorite way to wake up.”
“Yeah?” she asks, one eyebrow lifted.
I pull the sheet back so I can see her naked body pressed up against mine. “Yeah,” I say, tilting my hips up again so my shaft runs right along her palm.
Her fingers tighten around me, smooth and soft as she strokes me slowly with just the right amount of pressure. My head drops back to my pillow.
“Seems like it would be uncomfortable to wake up with a raging hard on.” There’s the small, teasing smile that’s so reminiscent of the easy way she flirted with me at the bar in Bermuda. But the way she’s gripping my shaft, tugging up and around the head of my cock before sliding back down, is confident and determined.
“It’sterriblyuncomfortable,” I say with a small chuckle.
“Howevercould we make this better?”
