But all my focus faded away as soon as I walked into the house and was met by Harper walking down the stairs looking so fucking gorgeous I nearly swallowed my tongue. A pair of low-rise, wide-legged jeans accentuated the length of his legs and the curve of his arse, and the cropped sunshine yellow T-shirt he’d paired it with highlighted his waist with acres of soft-looking skin between the bottom of his shirt and the top of his jeans. I could even see a hint of his underwear, which was an equally bright yellow with a dark waistband and seemed to cling to him like a second skin.
Fucking Christ, he was going to kill me.
“Hey,” I said as I tried not to stare. “You look… nice.”
“Yeah? You think so? I wondered if it was a bit much.” He looked down at himself and smiled nervously. He’d swapped his glasses for a pair of contact lenses, and his face looked totally different without them. Not bad, just different.
“Definitely not. You’re going to a drag bar. You might even be underdressed.”
“Should I change?”
“No! Well, not unless you want to. It’s totally up to you.” I threw my hands out, then pulled them back because I looked like I was trying to flag down a plane. “Just, er, wear whatever makesyou feel good. And that you’re comfortable in. But if it helps, I think you look great.”
He nodded, his smile brightening. “Thanks. Okay, I’ll stick with this.”
“Great.” I tried to return his smile but my face felt strangely stiff.
“How was training?” Harper asked as he began rummaging in his bag, which was hanging on the end of the banister, shoving his wallet into the pocket of his jeans alongside a lip gloss. He’d repainted his nails at some point today, and now they were a similar yellow to his top with little smiley faces stamped onto them.
“Good, yeah, um, it was good,” I said, my brain stuck on what his hands would look like wrapped around my cock or clutching my bedsheets. I needed to get a damn grip before I said something I couldn’t take back.
Like, stay here with me.
Come back to me.
Please.
“Sorry.” I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts together. “Just a bit tired. There’s a lot riding on the game tomorrow—at this stage in the season every point counts and we’re all a little, er, stressed about it.”
“You’re fine,” Harper said. “Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do to help?”
Kiss me.
“No, I’m good. Just going to have a chilled evening and maybe get an early night. I live a very exciting life.” I forced a chuckle in the hope Harper might believe everything was fine. Or maybe it was to fool myself.
“That sounds nice, though. And you need it before tomorrow. I’m looking forward to seeing you play.”
“Thanks. I hope it’ll be a good one.”
“I’m sure it will.”
There was a slight pause as we looked at each other, tension fizzing in the air, waiting for one of us to say something. Anything!
“Did you have some dinner?” I asked. The question was pathetic, but it was all I could think of. I’d told myself I had to wait and I was so close now. Just one more day.
“Yeah. I made too much, though, so if you want some leftover gnocchi bake, there’s some in the fridge.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He glanced at his phone, his face twitching. “Oh, it’s already seven. I should get going.”
“I can take you, if that’s easier.”
“No, it’s fine. Honestly! I looked it up and there’s parking not too far away, and I don’t drink, so I’ll be fine to drive home.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. The last gasp of the desperate. I just needed a few more minutes, even though I knew he’d be coming home later. But it was now that mattered.
“I’m sure.” He smiled at me and began to walk towards the front door, grabbing his keys as he passed the little hook above the shoe cabinet. “Have a good night! I’ll see you later.”
