Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Chase
“So.” Brady drops down on the bench, pulling his leg up to tie his cleats. “Cammie and I compared pics.”
I grin, tucking my shirt under my chin so I can tie my practice pants. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” I cut a quick glance at Mason, who smirks in return.
“Oh, fuck yeah, it is.” He ties his other cleat, then hops to his feet, snagging his phone from the shelf in his locker. “Check this out.”
He holds out the screen, and I lean in, Mason popping his head in between our shoulders.
It’s a screenshot from Life360, the app we use to share our locations, zoomed in to my picture. I lift a brow, waiting.
“This is you.” He states the obvious, then scrolls to the next picture, this one zoomed in the same, but showing Paige’s photo in the little bubble.
“This is Paige.” Again with the obvious statement.
“And this right here, my boy, is my photo on top of Cam’s.
She put it in some app and faded it or some shit and look at that!
” He points to our pictures, mine blended over hers.
“Look. At. That.” He elbows me and steps back, grinning from Mase to me.
The two of us chuckle, and I shake my head.
“And what exactly are you trying to show me? You were clearly there when I called her yesterday. You know I went to her dorm.”
“Yeah…but you’re in the same spot as her, and we zoomed all the fuck the way in. You’re literally on top of her…or she was on top of you.” His gaze snaps over my body a moment and he shakes his head. “Nah, I’m pretty sure you’d be the icing and she’d be the cake.”
“Jesus Christ.” Mason laughs, pulling a hoodie over his head. Must be nice to be the quarterback. He only has to wear his shoulder pads a couple days a week.
When I go to put my cleats on, Brady tears one out of my hand.
“Bro, for real? You’re just gonna leave us hanging? Not gonna spill?”
“Oh, you mean the way that you shared when you started gettin’ all soft on Cam?”
He points the cleat at me. “That was different.”
“Was it?”
He glares and I laugh.
“This is rude.” Brady crosses his arms.
“Leave him alone.” Mason waves him off.
“Thank you.”
“It’s obvious things went well.”
Now my glare points his way.
“What?” He smirks. “Tell us different, I dare you.”
“You guys suck, and can I have my damn cleat back now? We’ve got like five minutes.”
He passes it back, but when my hand wraps around it, he doesn’t let go. This time, though, the teasing and whatnot are gone.
Brady’s grin is light. “Come on, man. You got the girl you’ve been pretending not to watch for the last year.”
“Year and a half-ish,” Mason feels the need to add.
“Shit’s been rough for you, but already today, we can tell you’re… I don’t know, lighter. Tell us we can be happy for you already.”
My lips tug up to one side and that’s all the answer Brady needs.
“Fuck, yes!” he whoops into the air, releasing my shoe. “Dude. This is perfect. So perfect. Shit is going just like we planned, brothers.”
I can’t help the smile on my lips, enjoying this feeling of… I don’t even know what it is. Contentment, maybe.
Brady hops away, knocking his helmet on the lockers as he goes. “I can’t fucking wait to graduate, boys!”
Just like that, a ten-ton truck falls on my shoulders, and I whip around to hide the proof of the hit in my locker.
It’s October. I’ve only got a few more months left here. I should tell them, let them know how much is riding on my performance, because without a bang-out season…
A firm hand lands on my shoulder, and I look over, meeting Mason’s gaze. He holds my stare a moment, and my eyes begin to burn.
“I love you, man.” He squeezes. “You know that, right?”
My throat grows tight, but I manage a nod.
He nods back, then heads out, giving me the moment he can sense I need…but if I take it, I might spiral, and I can’t do that. Not right now.
It’s time to focus up.
We’re playing Florida this week and they’re a passing team, with a quarterback that rivals Mason’s talent and a defense that is going to make me work extra hard for every yard.
I’m up for the fucking challenge, and I will come out on top.
Brady’s teasing comes back to my mind, and I chuckle, making my way toward the field.
My guy was right, though.
I tug my helmet over my head, snapping it in place as I step out on the track.
Instantly, my eyes slice to the left, to the few rows of bleachers near the forty-yard line, where all the girls are studying, a constant in our lives, silent support but support nonetheless, but this time is different.
This time, one of the girls sitting there is mine.
Shiny blond hair blowing lightly in the October air, and a fluffy blanket pulled up to her shoulders, she stares right at me, not a book in sight.
My grin is wide, and she tips her little head.
If I were closer, I bet I’d find her biting on her lip, blushing, and when I draw attention to it, it would spread. Down her neck and chest and under her shirt.
I wonder how far it would reach.
Will her whole body change colors for me if I treat it just right?
Would she let me?
Would she make that same sound if I—
“Harper!” My name is barked, and my attention yanks in that direction. Shit. The team is starting to line up for our warm-ups.
I jolt forward, jogging to where I’m required, and when I hear my boys laughing from down the line, I smirk around my mouth guard.
Yes, Brady. I would definitely be the icing on that sweet little cake.
The next two hours fly by, and by the end of it, I’m sweating like crazy, my legs playing tricks on me with how loose they are when I know they’ll be tight as hell later if I don’t drop into the ice bath before I make my way out of here.
I throw myself onto the bench, my chest heaving as I take my helmet off and accept the water jug Mase passes my way.
“You’re fucking fast, man. Maybe Mr. Carlson was right, and you should have run track.”
I laugh, almost choking on the water, and bend quickly so it doesn’t spill over my lap. “I haven’t thought about that old asshole since the eighth grade.”
“Me either.” He smiles. “I don’t know why it popped into my head.”
Brady falls at our feet. Literally, he lies on the turf, arms and legs out wide. “I swear to shit, if Richardson is the reason we get a single fucking flag on Saturday for being offside, I will personally piss in his pineapple Gatorade.”
“That what was going on over there?” I pull my pads over my head, swiping a towel across my forehead. “It sounded like you were getting reamed for that short route they scored on us with last week.”
“That was how it began. Then we started running some of the new plays, and that little fucker was flying off the line like there was an actual offense across from us and not just a damn bag. And early. Like seven fucking times in two dozen snaps. Coach made us do a million bear crawls and I’m too buff for that shit. ”
We chuckle, going silent a moment to catch our breath as most of the field clears, our teammates heading into the locker room. But it’s almost always like this, me and my boys being the last on the field at the end of the day, give or take a few, depending.
Brady cracks an eye open, squinting up at me. “So what’s up, man? You gonna do it or what?”
“Do what?”
“You know, christen the spot like the rest of us did, Noah included.”
My brows pull, not following, and I look between my friends. It’s clear Mason gets it, his grin growing by the second.
Brady kicks me, and I scowl. He jerks his head toward the stands. “She’s still sitting there.”
My eyes fly up, and sure enough, she’s there, leaning on her elbows, staring this way. They’re all there, in fact, and I realize what he’s referring to.
Would she want that? Me to make a scene out here, for all to see, where everyone would find out all at once what we’ve become?
That she’s mine.
Heat spreads low in my core at the thought.
Slowly, Paige leans forward, her hand popping up so her chin can rest in it.
Are you waiting on me, Angel?
My tongue slides along my lower lip and I push to my feet.
The guys don’t try to quiet their celebration behind me, their excitement spreading my way. It hums in my veins, the desire to do exactly what they’re telling me to—to claim my little blond for anyone to see.
The closer I get, the more her smile spreads. She knows what’s coming and she’s anticipating it.
When I reach her, I don’t hop up or leap over.
No, I hold my arms out. “Come here, Shortcake.”
There isn’t a moment’s hesitation from her. Paige climbs right up and slides into my arms.
She squeals as my hands grasp her hips, drawing her in, her legs locking around me as I wrap one arm under her ass, the other coming up and pressing against her back to flatten her to me. The need to feel her all over is heavy.
I stare into her big blue eyes, leaning in and using my lips to push her hair from her cheek.
Her chest rises and her smile—it’s a sexy kind of shy.
My focus falls to where that plump lower lip is tucked between her teeth, ready to replace it with my own.
“Fucking kiss her already!” Brady shouts.
“Jesus.” I huff a laugh, my grin curving against her mouth and an airy, little chuckle spills into my lips just as I take hers.
I swallow the sound, catching that lip just like I wanted. Teasing with a nip before I kiss her for real, deep, slow, and dirty, like I’ve got all damn day to stand here. Like no one is watching and hoping everyone around is.
Her fingers tighten in my hair, her soft, little moan, only loud enough for me to hear, swallowed by my smirk against her mouth.
I want to hear those sounds at a higher pitch, want ’em to ring in my ears so loud my eardrums burn.
I want her to forget everything she’s ever known about being with a man until I’m the only one she remembers.
I want her to whine and shake and beg and—
“Uncle Chaser!”