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Or it would have been if I hadn’t left the bathroom to find Noah standing next to my bed. He had a first-aid kit in his hand and had likely been intending to drop it off before booking it out the door, but he froze. And those big blue eyes dipped to the tiny scrap of terry cloth currently covering my crotch.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I combed a hand through my wet hair and moved closer. “You don’t get to apologize about anything for at least a couple of weeks.”
Noah managed to look away from my towel. “Why’s that?”
“Because you’re VIP status right now. Untouchable. Protected by the football gods.”
A smile inched up the corner of his mouth. “Because of the scrimmage?”
“Because you made me fucking happier than I’ve been since I was drafted.”
“Oh. Wow.” He looked down at the blue box in his hands. “I was hoping it would cheer you up. I know it must be hard for you to be cut off this way.”
“Yeah. It is. But don’t you think I deserve it?”
Noah’s lips thinned. “I think you shouldn’t have punched the dude so hard, but I also understand why you did it.”
My hands balled into fists. “Simeon told you.”
“Yes. He did.” Noah exhaled slowly. “Anyway, patch yourself up. I didn’t realize how messed up you’d be after playing for fun. There’s a bruise on your back the size of England.”
I snorted. “This is nothing compared to a real game. We went easy on each other.”
“Right. Easy.” Noah brandished the first-aid kit. “Are you going to do it, or do I have to do it for you?”
“We both know I’m not too good at tending to myself.”
“You’re just trying to get me to patch you up while you lounge around mostly naked,” he accused.
Not denying this obvious truth, I sprawled on the bed and folded my hands behind my head. “Is there a massage included in this?”
“You wish, Gavin.”
He had no idea.
For the most part, it was impersonal. Sitting alongside me on the bed, he cleaned the worst of the cuts, like my raw knees and the various gashes that had come from being slammed into the ground, and dabbed them with ointment. I was bandaged and given a couple of pain relievers within fifteen minutes, the most unsexy nurse routine I’d ever witnessed, but it didn’t stop the series of mental images from floating through my mind. It didn’t help that his hands were lingering on my skin long after he’d finished. The tips of his fingers dragged over a raspberry colored bruise stretching along my side—by-product of being rammed by a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound linebacker.
“Let me kiss you again.”
“As a thank you for having a good day?”
“Yeah.” I sat up, causing his hand to fall away. “And because I liked it.”
He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at me with his fingers curling in the fabric of my sheets.
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “That’s why it’s probably not a good idea.”
“Fuck good ideas. I’m tired of imagining how your tongue would feel in my mouth.” I moved closer, breath coming faster. “Please? Just one more time. Then I’ll fuck off.”
“Would you really fuck off?”
“Yes. I’ll fuck off now if you don’t want this.” I searched his face. “Just say the word.”
Noah nodded slowly, analyzing me with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, probably going through dozens of bad scenarios and awful outcomes. Psyching himself out. Comparing me to his old boss. Comparing himself to the old Noah. Letting the worries get in his head the way Phil Stokes did before each game. Which meant, I was about to get rejected.
Except I didn’t.
Noah put his hands on me. Fingers sliding into the wet hair at the nape of my neck and his other hand gripping my shoulder as he drew me in to swipe his tongue across my mouth. I shuddered. He felt it and smiled as I released a husky groan. And that was fine. He could be as calm as he wanted while I gripped him hard enough to break capillaries and drowned in the cool taste of his mouth. His talented tongue and sensual kisses made me question whether I could woo this fucking kid when he was a way better kisser.
It was supposed to have been one kiss, but Noah wasn’t moving. He gripped me tighter the longer it lasted, and his coolness faded one low moan at a time.
“Move back,” he rasped against my lips.
I complied, shifting against the headboard, and didn’t try to muffle my husky gasp when he straddled me. His round ass pressed against my throbbing dick. Fuck yes. Now we were talking.
With both hands cupping his ass cheeks, the tips of my fingers pressing into the crease of his jeans, I was on a different planet. The scrimmage had resulted in my best day ever, but this moment was lifting me into the goddamn heavens.
