He stops throwing the ball and holds it tightly in his grasp as he turns his body to look at me. Eyes skate up and down my body like this is the first time he is seeing me. I’m not wearinganything special, a skirt and tee with trainers, but a wicked glint swims through his ice blues.
“Fucking love those skirts, Lucky.”
“I wore it just for you.” I wink, feeling playful. I’m awful at flirting, don’t have a clue what I’m doing, but I give it a good go.
“Is that so?” he rasps, voice like gravel and it makes my skin pebble.
I nod and I am so grateful I have the door frame to prop me up because the way he looks at me, dressed in that suit… well, it’s doing things to me. We’re standing toe to toe, his neck slightly craned as he looks down at me. A boyish grin flicks against his lips, and I smile back at him.
“How are you feeling?” I ask him.
His arms wrap around my waist and tug me forward. “Good, you?”
“Nervous,” I mutter, my fingertips trailing across the soft, silky material of his underwear.
A soft laugh vibrates through him, his head tilting back and it’s such a beautiful sound. “Why are you nervous, Lucky?” He tilts his head to look at me, he isn’t being funny, he is genuinely asking.
“Because it’s you,” I say, and he furrows his brows. “I care about you, and the thought of you driving that fast…” I pause, dropping my eyes as I focus on the logo that is printed on his underwear, my fingertips delicately trace the outline. “Well, it scares me. I am excited for you, and want you to win the race, but at the same time, I don’t want you leaving this room…” I whisper, vulnerability echoing.
“Baby,” he says, his own voice quiet. His large hand cups my cheek as he tilts my face upwards, so I have no other option but to look at him. “I love that you’re nervous but never be scared.” His forehead presses against mine. “I promise I’ll be okay,” he whispers before his lips press to mine, my cheeks pinkening.
He gives me a playful grin. “I feel like a high school boy with his first crush with all this kissing.” He looks away for a moment, and I watch his own blush creep onto his face.
“Yeah?” I nibble my bottom lip.
“Yeah,” he mutters, gripping my chin, his smile widening as his lips hover over mine. “And I’m not mad about it.”
“Me either.”
The sound of a throat being cleared pulls us out of our moment. Cowan is standing there, arms crossed against his chest dressed and ready for his race.
“Great,” Royce mutters, reluctantly dropping his grip and placing a kiss on my forehead.
“Hey, pretty girl,” Cowan goads, waiting for a reaction from Royce.
Panic creeps up my throat as I watch Royce ball his fists by his side and walk by me, his hand wrapping around me as he tucks me behind him.
“You don’t get to speak to her, and you sure as fuck don’t get to call herpretty girl.” His voice lowers as the last two words roll off in a growl.
“I can do what I want. You don’t own her, plus, only two days ago you left her on her own…”
Royce glares at him. My heart is pounding in my chest.
“So, I did the right thing, taking her with me, buying her dinner… kissing her.”
That’s what pushes Royce over the edge. He runs for Cowan, his arms wrapping around his teammates waist as he knocks him to the floor.
“Royce!” I scream, not sure if I should try and pull him off.
“Hey, hey!” Creed sees the commotion from the top of the hallway, picking up his pace and tugging Royce off Cowan.
“Don’t even fucking look in her direction.” Royce points at Cowan who has a stupid grin on his face, jabbing his finger again towards his teammate.
“What you going to do about it, eh, Royce?” Cowan steps forward and Creed glares at him.
“Don’t,” Creed warns.
Cowan shakes his head, twisting on his heel. “She must have some fucking good pussy to have you as whipped as she has.”
