What Are The Chances (Phil-U #2)

21 I couldn’t keep my hands to myself

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I couldn’t keep my hands to myself

RILEY

Will and I very loudly announced our arrival by slamming the front door closed. Luckily we had. Parker and Ryan broke apart, their faces both more heated than I liked given they were sitting on our communal couch.

“We’ve got snacks,” I called out.

“Great.”

As Parker jumped up, the blanket her and Ryan had been sharing fell to the ground. I made note to wash that later. Just in case. She followed me to the kitchen, where she began prepping the microwave popcorn.

Ryan filtered through the bags of food. “You went hard on the snacks. I’m surprised Mr Chicken and Rice allowed this much sugar.”

I snickered because I knew how often Will ate that meal. He was a health nut. I would say I was too, but I knew when to loosen the reins and indulge. He never did. Maybe in the off-season a bit, but throughout the hockey season, it was all about protein and hitting quotas. That wasn’t to say he never ate a burger or drank a beer, because he did. But he actively turned his nose up at candy, and always declared he hated ice cream, which was a freaking travesty in my eyes. But whatever. More for me.

I grabbed a bowl and began preparing a snack that was sure to make his stomach turn. I started with a few scoops of cookies and cream ice cream, then I crumbled some Oreos on top. Next I mixed through a stack of M&Ms, before finishing up with some of Parker’s popcorn. Salty and sweet. The perfect combination.

“What do you want, Caufield?” I asked, surveying the leftover snacks on the counter.

His nauseated expression was amusing.

“I’m good.”

Scooping up a packet of potato chips and a candy bar, Ryan slapped his friend on the back. “You’re a bore, man.”

“He really is,” I agreed.

We all, sans Will, carried our snacks to the living room, where Parker had the movie ready to go. She killed the lights before eyeing the spare seat beside me, then the one next to Ryan.

Be a good friend, Riley I reminded myself. I tapped the couch cushion next to me.

“Come on, Caufield. You won’t catch sugar cooties from sitting beside me.”

Our couches weren’t small by any means. When it was just Parker and me, they were big enough for both of us to lie down. But add a six-foot-four hockey player, and the two-seater felt more like an armchair.

*

My heart hadn’t stopped pounding. This movie was terrifying. I’d watched most of it from behind my fingers. When Parker suggested Ghost Slayer I’d expected people running around in sheets, not invisible ghosts that slithered under the blankets when people were sleeping, or moved the main character’s hair off her shoulder, or rocked beside the baby while it was in its crib.

Freaking. Terrifying.

I was not sleeping tonight.

I tugged the blanket up to my chin. I wasn’t above hiding behind it altogether.

Parker and Ryan had alternated between watching, cuddling, and making out. Right now they were partway through option C . If they weren’t watching, it didn’t seem fair that I had to. But what was the alternative? Turning the TV off and cockblocking my best friend? I couldn’t do that.

I jumped instinctively as an unseen force hurled a saucepan at the male character, knocking him unconscious, while in real-life a loud clap of thunder shook the house.

A storm had landed just as the movie had begun. Through the gap in the drapes, lightening continually flashed, and the rain hadn’t let up. Before I could dwell on the storm outside, creepy music began in the movie as the wife and baby, who were in the basement waiting for the husband to return, listened as footsteps descended the staircase.

“Run!” I shouted at the TV. “It’s the freaking invisible ghost coming.”

Beside me, Will snickered. “As opposed to non-invisible ghosts?”

This time when the jumpy moment happened, my wandering hand landed in Will’s lap. And not just in his lap. On his dick.

My hand, arm and soul froze, and I think time slowed to a complete stop too. Was I really touching Will’s dick? And if so, why wasn’t I moving?

I’d partly known he would be collateral damage during this film. As the dent in the wall implied, I was fairly skittish when it came to scary movies. But I’d assumed I’d accidentally punch him, which I wasn’t impartial to. This wasn’t what I had in mind.

When he shifted his head slightly, his questioning grey eyes finding mine in the darkness, I snapped my hand away as though he was poison ivy. Life would be easier if I pretended he was.

Now like some kind of prisoner, I was forced to keep my focus on the terrifying movie, because looking at Will Caufield was certainly not an option.

What’s worse than accidentally groping your ex-boyfriend? Lingering. I’d lingered. And judging by the way he’d instantly hardened beneath my palm, he’d noticed.

My thoughts betrayed me, taking a trip down memory lane to other times I’d had my hand there. Though in those memories, there hadn’t been a pair of jeans between us.

Then because I enjoyed torturing myself, my thoughts kept skipping until they located memories when his dick had been in me. When he’d used that body part to draw moans and cries from my lips.

I sealed those same lips together now when his large hand slipped beneath the blanket draped across my lap and came to rest on my bouncing knee. Whether it was in comfort or not, I wasn’t sure. Though something I was sure of was the instant effect it had on me. It’d been the same when he accidentally clasped my leg this morning. Nothing good came from those hands being on my body.

Well actually, only good came from them. But that wasn’t something I was allowed to have anymore.

When I didn’t shrug his hand off, Will accepted the silent invitation and gently massaged my knee. My traitorous body responded immediately. A tingling sensation started in my core and danced lower. I inhaled deeply, my chest expanding beneath the blanket .

I was thankful I’d had the common sense to shave my legs earlier, because now his hand was moving lazily across my inner thigh. In shorts, his fingertips grazed my skin directly, leaving a radiating scorch in their wake.

I chanced a look at Parker and Ryan. With the way the couches were positioned and the dark room, they wouldn’t be able to see what was happening beneath this blanket. Besides, they were still too preoccupied with each other to realise Will’s hand had now inched to the hem of my shorts.

My head urged him to pull his hand away, but my body was saying something else entirely.

When he moved his hand to rest over the perfect spot, my hips rocked accordingly. Taking that as encouragement, he rubbed harder. I’ll bet he could feel how wet I was through the fabric of my shorts. There was no denying he’d awoken something in me.

My body hummed as he worked his hand back and forth. He was literally stroking me over my shorts, and it was the hottest thing I’d experienced in a long time.

This time when I closed my eyes, it wasn’t because I was afraid of the film, it was because Will’s knowing gaze was too much. I could feel the confidence oozing from him. The smug asshole knew how turned on I was. Game on, Caufield. He used to get off on getting me off, which meant he’d be just as toey. Only he wasn’t going to get the release I was incredibly close to.

When I tilted my hips, an orgasm rocked through me without warning. I hurriedly scooped up a pillow, pressing it against my face to drown out my noises. Will coughed to cover up the small moan that escaped my lips. Though it pained me to admit, I felt burden-free for the first time in a long time, like life had taken a backseat while Will’s hands were on my body.

Once my heart rate partially settled, I dropped the pillow into my lap. Will's fingers deliberately grazed my bare skin as his hand retreated. With my chest still heaving I chanced a look at him, our gazes colliding. It was taking superhuman strength not to touch him. The lust still pulsating through my blood was reflected in his eyes.

I wanted to cover his mouth with mine. I wanted to climb onto his lap and grind against his dick that would undoubtably be hard. I wanted to give into the overwhelming desire that only he seemed to bring out of me.

When he slowly wet his lips, I melted, all my resolve dissipating.

Fuck it. I couldn’t keep my hands to myself.

I reached for his crotch, my hand landing on the familiar bulge I missed. Though just as I began to fiddle with the waistband of his jeans, a loud clap of thunder rumbled above, and then everything went black.