“No you can’t.”
“Maybe not sounds but I can feel your tension. Relax, Naomi. I got you.”
He did. He really had me, and those words made my eyes get a little watery. Maybe allergy season was later than normal this year and the pollen in the air got to me. Yeah, that was why my eyes filled with moisture.
Or, I don’t know, perhaps it was exhaustion. Or maybe cramps. Not sleeping and getting hit with PMS was the worst combination. Throwing in a fantastic kiss to be followed by ajust friendsconversation didn’t help the matter either.
My fingers dug into his stomach as I got closer to him, and he moved his hand from my thigh to my lower back and rubbed small circles there.
Oh my god.
He kept doing the motion while everyone got on the bus. He didn’t stop once we were on the road and the chatter died down for the rest of the two hour ride back. He put light pressure over my sweatshirt, andoh.He slid his fingers under my sweatshirt so his rough finger pads were on my bare back, and goosebumps exploded from head to toe.
I was pretty sure I panted at this point. From a little back rub.
He kneaded the area just above my waistline, and a groan escaped me. He stilled, his entire body turning as hard as a wooden plank, and my stomach dropped out of my body from mortification. Was it too sexual of a groan? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that he heard me, stopped, and now things were awkward. It was my fault. We’d agreed to be friends. I agreed enthusiastically with him after that kiss, but now I ruined the moment, and I wanted to pout about it.
“Did that feel alright?” he asked, just above a whisper. His voice was scratchy, like maybe, he felt a little like I did. Like friends was a stupid idea when we clearly had chemistry.
I didn’t care that Mona was right—that after our kiss, he chose hockey over me. With his talented fingers on my skin, my resolve got a little blurry.
Hope bloomed in my chest. “Yes, that felt good.”
“Good.” Something light touched the top of my head, and he continued the motion again. “I want you to relax.”
“Mmkay,” I said, my brain trying to figure out what that touch was. Did he hit my head with his chin? Or… did he kiss me? No, that would be weird. We were friends.
Did friends rub each other’s backs and cuddle on a bus? Probably not. But then again, what did I know? I inhaled his fresh scent, and after a few minutes, my body settled down. My breathing grew deeper, and my mind cleared. Sleep. It was so close, and I needed it.
Falling asleep was one of the best parts of the day, where everything faded into the background and my body shut down. My overactive brain would get a break. I wasn’t sure how long I slept, but I woke up with my entire body overheating.
My hand rested on Michael’s stomach, just inches from his belt. His muscles were tight and strained against my fingers, and I dug my nails into his sweatshirt just a little.
He shifted his weight but kept a firm grip on my waist. My head had dropped from his shoulder to his chest, and his heartbeat thudded against the side of my face. I wasn’t sure what his resting heart rate was, being as in shape as he was and a former athlete, but there was no way his should be beating this fast.
Boom-boom, boom-boom, boom-boom.It was persistent and as fast as mine. Two things struck me as we remained like that, his arm around me and my head on his chest.
The first—we flirted with the line of being more than friends. The second...he practically threw himself down the stairs to get away from me when Erikson called his name, so why the hell was he letting me sleep on him while on the bus?
Those two actions didn’t add up, and math always made sense to me. I wanted so badly to ask, but fear of ruining the moment kept me silent. It would change the air between us, and for once, I just wanted to enjoy what it felt like to lay against Michael.
After ten minutes of listening to his heartbeat and the chatter of the coaches in the seats ahead of us, a crick formed in my neck, so I adjusted my position on his firm chest. I tensed, waiting for the second he knew I was awake and would demand I get up, but it never came.
If anything, he relaxed more and moved his hand from my lower back toward my thigh again, gently pushing me closer to him. My pussy throbbed with want and need, and I almost cried when the bus eventually arrived on campus. It was after midnight, and I was so stupid tired and honestly a bit horny that I fought tears as we unloaded our stuff.
It was weird to miss someone who wasn’t mine. I blamed staying up way too late working on the results from the motivation tests the players took in a lame attempt to impress my dad. Add in the hormones and the fact I thought about Michael all too much...it was a crock pot of emotions, and I was a horrible chef.
“Hold on, Fletcher, I’ll walk you back,” Michael said, putting that damn hand on my shoulder for a quick squeeze. When did that gesture become downright sinful? A shoulder touch had no business making me lock my knees together and stifle a moan.
“Sure, right.” I swayed on my feet and said to hell with it. I plopped down on the curb and rested my chin on my hands, my elbows on my knees. I might’ve overdone it this week. I realized that now, and my bed seemed so far away. Miles and miles.
“Hey, Naomi, do you want to get some dinner tomorrow?”
I looked up and squinted at…my dad.He stood with his hands in his pockets and an unfamiliar expression on his face. He rocked back on his heels, and it struck me that he seemed nervous. Which was silly.
It was my tired mind playing tricks on me. First, a sexy shoulder squeeze from Michael and now my dad asking me to dinner? Was the universe going to rain Skittles to make this lucid dream even weirder?
“To talk about the data? I’m not sure I’ll have it ready. I’m sorry,” I said, the lump forming in my throat again. “I’m extremely tired, but I could probably try to have it done on Sunday.”
