“A hundred says he asks if you’ve got a girlfriend,” Felix called from his locker.
Their teasing was normal, good-natured.But it felt like needles on my raw nerves.Every word pushed me closer to the edge of confessing everything.No, not a girlfriend.Just the billionaire who kissed me senseless and now I can’t think straight.
I grunted a non-answer and grabbed my towel, heading for the showers to escape.
The hot water did little to soothe me.It just provided a private space for the memories to flood back, sharper and more intense.The feel of Henry's shirt under my hands.The taste of dark chocolate and expensive wine on his tongue.The low, approving sound he made when I'd kissed him back.
My body reacted instantly, a jolt of pure heat that had nothing to do with the shower.I was hard, aching, right here in the team shower with my teammates just a few feet away.I turned quickly, facing the tiled wall, my heart hammering against my ribs.This was insane.I was losing my mind.
I shut the water off abruptly, the sudden cold a brutal shock.I wrapped the towel around my waist, clutching it tightly, and hurried back to my locker, keeping my head down.
The room was clearing out.Shay and Felix already dressed, slinging their bags over their shoulders.
“You surviving, man?”Shay asked his tone softening a fraction.
“Yeah.Just gonna get dressed and face the music,”
“You want us to wait?”
“Nah.Go ahead.”
They left, their laughter echoing down the hall.Finally, silence, well almost.The drip of a showerhead, the hum of the lights.I was alone.
I sank onto the wooden bench, the towel still clutched around my waist, I needed to get dressed.I needed to go see coach and get my ass chewed out.I needed to do a lot of things.
My phone, tucked in the side pocket of my gear bag, buzzed.
The sound was unnaturally loud in the empty room.A prickle of awareness, stupid and hopeful, went down my spine.I knew.I just knew.
I fumbled for the phone, my wet fingers slipping on the screen.
One new message.From an unknown number.
The message preview glowed on my lock screen: I trust you found your way home safely.I've been thinking about the...
My thumb unlocked the phone before I'd even made the conscious decision to do it.
The full message loaded
Unknown number:i trust you found your way home safely.I've been thinking about the taste of chocolate.Pity it was so fleeting.
A sound escaped me, something between a gasp and a groan.I stared at the words until they blurred.It was him.Of course it was him.Cool, teasing, utterly controlled even in text.He waited a full day to send it.Let me stew.
My body, which had just begun to come down, was instantly back on high alert.Blood rushed south, a relentless, pounding ache.The towel felt impossibly restrictive.
Another buzz.A second message.
Unknown number:I find myself...distracted today.
That was it.The final straw.Those five words, an admission that mirrored my own pathetic state, shattered whatever was left of my composure.
My breath hitched.This was a terrible idea.This was the team locker room, period.Anyone could walk in.The janitor.A coach.A teammate who forgot something.
But the image was already there, seared into the back of my eyelids.Henry, leaning against his kitchen island.His hand cupping my jaw.His mouth on mine.
My hand slid under the towel.The touch was electric, a jolt of sensation so intense it was almost painful.I was already fully hard, leaking.I wrapped my fingers around myself, a low moan escaping my lips as I leaned back against the cold metal of the lockers.
I stroked once, twice, a slow, rough friction that made my toes curl against the dirty tile floor.My head fell back, thumping against the locker door.This was stupid.Reckless.
