Page 66 of The Cheerleader is Off Limits

“Whose house?”

I start to tell him, and then I remember that he might actually be mad that one of his guys is throwing a party with alcohol and weed when everyone present is underage. “I don’t want to say.”

“Dammit. A football player?”

I smack my forehead because I really didn’t think this through. “I’m no snitch.”

“After the first fucking game. I swear to God,” he grumbles before clearing his throat. “Why did you call me, Sloane?”

“To… talk? I don’t know.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Maybe. I did have a lot of tequila.”

“Jesus Christ.” He sighs, and I feel like I detect a hint of disappointment in his voice. “How are you getting home?”

“Not sure yet. Delaney and I will probably Uber.” I tell him, knowing we absolutely plan to Uber, but wanting to see how he responds to my ambiguous answer.

“Probably? Sloane, do not drive or get in a car with anyone that’s been drinking.” His tone is hard and commanding and fucking hot.

“I know, I won’t.”

“I am not fucking kidding around.”

“Yes,Daddy, I’m aware,” I say in my sassiest voice.

“Don’t.” He barks into the phone, and I gasp.

“Would you prefer Mr. Kincaid?”

“Do not say my name out loud. Are you around anyone?”

I turn around toward the porch again and see the same people who were there before talking among themselves and not paying attention to me. “No, I’m by myself.”

“By yourself, outside? I don’t like that either, Sloane.”

“I mean, I’m in front of the house, and there are other people outside, but not close enough to hear me.”

“This is risky,” he responds.

“You can hang up if you want. I just… I’ve had a little bit to drink and wanted to talk to the guy I like.” He doesn’t respond. So I continue, “I know I shouldn’t like you… or I guess it doesn’t matter that I like you.”More silence.“Your overprotectiveness is hot for the record.”He doesn’t respond again, and I hear the message loud and clear.This was stupid. What did you think was going to happen? He’d initiate phone sex? And now I’m fucking rambling.“Okay… well… I’m sorry I called. I’ll let you go.”

“Wait,” he says and my heart flips slightly in my chest. “I… liked the pictures.”Oh?

“You did?”

“Screenshotted all of them,” he says, and his voice is low and sexy. My mouth drops open in shock because I was not expectinghim to say that. I drag my finger over my lips as a smile pulls at them.

“Which was your favorite?”

“Hard to say, but the… one with your leg up…” He clears his throat. “May have inspired some… alone time.”

“You… touched yourself to pictures of me?”

“I shouldn’t tell you that.” His voice is so quiet it’s almost like a whisper.

“Yes, you should. I’ve definitely done the same.”And probably will the second I get home now.