Page 13 of Off Sides

I’m hoping Jonah is finished cleaning up, and he is—but he didn’t leave. Nope. He’s sitting on the bench right in front of my locker, his eyes running all over my wet, nearly naked body.

I quickly turn away from him because him looking at me like that is . . . making me uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, my towel starts to tent, and I can’t have that. I certainly can’t let him see that.

I mean, he knows. He has to know. I remember Shields and Adler’s cruel taunts, and my cheeks flame hot as I face away from him, unsure what to do now since my bag is next to him on the bench and I’m trying like hell to avoid him.

I breathe and try to get my dick under control. Just because he was looking at me doesn’t mean he’s interested. That he likes what he sees. That’s crazy. He’s Coach’s little brother. A star quarterback.

He’s not like me.

He’d probably kick my ass if he saw the way my dick is trying to escape the towel just from his eyes being on me for less than a minute.

“What are you doing?” I ask, still not looking at him, but I swear I can feel his eyes on me.

“Why do you let them get away with that shit?” His tone isn’t really accusing, but I hear the anger in it, which makes me forget about my whole dick situation and turn to face him.

“Why do you waste your time fighting with them? Trust me, it’s not worth it.” I’m not worth it.

He looks genuinely confused, his head cocking to the side much like his brother. Remembering his brother, my eyes dart to the office window, but the blinds have been pulled down, and his door is closed. He’s likely getting some work done before he heads home and doesn’t care about our conversation at all.

I turn back to Jonah, who’s still watching me, my face this time, but it still makes me shift uncomfortably—feeling vulnerable and on full display. “Bullying isn’t cool, and I’m already sick of their shit.”

His eyes start to slide down from my face and go lower, way too low. And yup—my problem is back. Why the hell is he looking at my body like he wants to fucking eat me? Is he fucking with me?

Shields and Adler are terrible. I hate them, but at least they’re stupid. They just get right to it. Is this the long game? Jonah is smart. I can see that.

I watch his tongue dart out of his mouth, slowly licking over his lips that look soft and supple before he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his intense eyes meeting mine. My dick is way past being tamed now as I watch him with wariness and wonder.

But I shake it off. I won’t be fucked with. I mean—well . . . no. I’m just keeping my head down and getting through this year. That’s all I’m going to do.

I grab my underwear and shorts from my bag, turning away from him. I pull my briefs on under the towel, forcing my hard dick into them as best I can before pulling my shorts up and ripping the towel off my waist.

I grab a shirt and pull it on before facing Jonah again. “You can’t do that. Okay? You can’t taunt them because they’ll just keep coming back and with more force than before. Just let it go.”

“I can’t,” he says with so much intensity, like it’s really not an option for him. Like he really can’t help it. He stands up to face me, his eyes directly on mine with him being almost my height. “I won’t.”

“Then it’s going to be a really long year,” I say honestly. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Once they get any sort of pushback, they’re all over it.

“Maybe,” he says easily, like it doesn’t bother him. How could it not bother him? “But I’m not just going to sit by and let them push you or anyone else around, and you shouldn’t let them do that either.”

“Oh yeah?” I say, my tone defensive as I sling my bag over my shoulder. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Punch them, like you wanted to?”

I saw the way his fist clenched and pulled back. If that whistle hadn’t blown, he would have swung, no doubt in my mind. But then what? What would it have gotten him?

And Coach?

If he didn’t kick him off the team for that, he would have faced some serious backlash.

“You need to start thinking,” I say, stepping into him, trying to intimidate him, but he doesn’t cower. I’m quickly learning that Jonah doesn’t cower. Not ever. “Use your head. They’re just words.”

“Words have power.”

I shake my head. “We’re just dumb jocks. Words can’t hurt us.” I say it, though I know it’s bullshit.

“Cal—” he starts, but I step away toward the exit.

“Don’t, okay? Don’t. I don’t need your help, and I don’t want it. We’re teammates. You weren’t lying, you’re good.” I take a few more steps toward the door, so close to leaving, but I stop and turn, looking over at Jonah, who’s stayed put. “It’ll be a good year if you can just not engage.”

He smirks, a devilish little grin that makes his eyes dance. “You have a lot to learn about me, Calvin. I always engage.”