Chapter 23 #2
Noah keeps sneaking glances at me that set my body alight. Every time I catch his eye, adrenaline pulses through me, and it’s almost impossible to hide my smirk. Today has been insane, but in a good way. I’ve never felt more alive.
It doesn’t take my mates long to pick up on my change of mood.
During a three-v-three drill, Ritter nudges me in the ribs as he steals the ball off me. “Who are they?”
Noah’s gaze snaps to mine, giving Ritter the perfect opportunity to shoot a pass off to Blake.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I huff, jogging back into position.
“Bullshit,” Ritter laughs. “You’re grinning like someone slipped happy pills into your protein shake.”
I flip him off.
Blake flicks the ball back to Ritter. “You’re suspiciously cheerful, Kincaid.”
“Is this training or a mother’s group?” Noah grunts out.
“As if you’re not curious who’s got Zac smiling like that,” Ash Griffin, one of our midfielders, calls.
“I don’t give a shit where he sticks his dick, as long as we beat Hightower this week,” our captain shoots back, dropping back to intercept the pass to Ritter.
A snort of laughter escapes me. If only they knew.
“Come on,” Blake presses. “Who is it?”
I shake my head. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Is it serious?” Ritter asks.
I avoid looking at Noah, despite his heavy gaze boring into me. “My lips are sealed, dude. Let it go.”
Coach Johnson blows his whistle, saving me from further probing from my teammates, and as we reset the drill, Noah edges close enough for his arm to brush mine. When I catch the tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, heat burns me from the inside out.
It sucks I can’t just grab him and kiss him senseless whenever I want, but these stolen moments are just as good, sending my pulse racing and my heart skipping a beat.
He continues to tease me for the rest of training, and I’m surprised I can even concentrate on the drills, but somehow, I manage to keep a level head.
He’s already gone by the time I get out of the shower. Disappointment churns in my gut as I pull on my clothes, ignoring the guys’ chatter.
My mood lifts when I check my phone.
Noah: If we do this, we have to be careful.
Zac: Careful is my middle name.
Noah: I’m serious. I don’t want anything to happen to you.
Zac: It sounds like you care about me.
Noah: I do care about you.
I stare at my phone, unable to believe he’s admitting how he feels. Warmth spreads through me, but it quickly disappears when Ritter throws his arm around my shoulder, and I lock my phone screen before he can catch sight of it.
Okay, maybe this sneaking around thing isn’t all fun.
“That her? Or him?” my teammate asks with a grin, nodding at my phone.
“None of your business,” I say, shrugging him off me.
My phone vibrates, but I don’t look at it, knowing it will be from Noah.
“I’m happy for you,” he says, seriousness coating his tone. “They’re a lucky person.”
I shoot him a playful look. “Careful, Ritter. Anyone would think you’re jealous it isn’t you.”
“Nah, you couldn’t handle my anaconda.” He laughs, cupping his crotch and blowing me a kiss.
Blake snorts. “Dude, anyone who talks about the size of his dick like that is compensating for something.”
“Compensate this.” Ritter flips him off.
“Ladies, please,” Everett pipes up, joining us from the showers, a towel wrapped around his waist. “If anyone’s going to be bragging about what they’re packing, clearly it’s me.”
Blake groans. “Have you even hit puberty yet, pipsqueak?”
A few of our lingering teammates laugh.
At nineteen, Everett’s one of the younger players on the team, and while he’s tall at six foot four, he’s like a lean string bean.
He shoves Blake. “Whatever, grandpa. Do you think you’ll graduate before your grandchildren do?”
Blake’s the eldest on the team at twenty-five.
He’s quiet, and we don’t know much about him, other than he’s a mature age student, and he’s studying paramedicine.
I’ve heard rumours his choice of career has to do with something that happened to his mum or sister, but it’s none of my business, so I don’t pry.
I’m just glad to have him out on the pitch.
My phone vibrates again, and I’m desperate to check it, so I swing my bag over my shoulder and push through my mates. “I’m out. Later.”
I wait until I’m in my car before I check the messages.
Noah: Sorry, maybe it’s a little early to be saying shit like that.
Noah: Christ, Kincaid. I’ve never wanted to delete a text more. Way to leave a guy hanging.
My lips curl into a grin as I imagine him pacing his room, overthinking why I haven’t responded to his texts.
I pull up his number and press the call button. It only rings once before he answers.
“What the fuck?” he whisper hisses. “You don’t ghost a guy when he says shit like that to you.”
“Relax,” I tell him with a chuckle. “What do you expect when you text me when I’m still in the change rooms? I almost got busted by Ritter.”
He lets out a whoosh of air. “I’ve been pacing my room wondering if I came on too strong.”
My grin widens. “You’re adorable when you’re all worked up.”
Silence greets me on the other line before he growls, “Fuck off. Nothing about me is adorable.”
I laugh. “What are you doing?”
“Right now?” he grumbles. “I’m about to hang up on your arse.”
“Come hang out at mine? I feel like it’ll be suspicious if I start hanging out at your place too often.”
My invitation hangs in the air for a moment, and I worry I’m putting too much pressure on him. I mean, my parents and my sister will be there, and I know he said we need to keep this under wraps, but it’s not like I’m asking him to fuck my brains out in my parents’ house. We can just—
“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon,” I repeat, my brain still trying to talk myself out of panic mode.
Noah’s coming over to hang out and meet my family. He already met Milly, and she’s a big fan. I only hope Mum and Dad like him, too.