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I left it alone because I was pretty sure whatever was going on in his mind was probably nothing I needed or wanted to hear. “We should grab something at Sadie’s later,” I said instead. It was a short walk from my place and one of my favorite solo haunts. Tiny and cluttered, with some of the best burgers in the city.
“Your treat?” Cullen bounced his brows. “Since I’ve been a supportive boyfriend all day?”
“Your treat. You owe me for the pleasure of my company.”
“You’re gonna ask me to dinner and then make me pay?” He feigned shock. “Still hell-bent on making me your sugar daddy, huh?”
When Coach shot us an askance look before shaking his head, we both dissolved into laughter, like idiots.
I pulled my coat tighter against the wind whipping through downtown Denver, miserably stuffed. Why had I ordered extra fries and beer? I rarely ordered either. “I have food regrets,” I confessed to Cullen.
He patted his stomach. Cullen loved food that was not exactly athlete-friendly but mostly kept his splurges in check during the season. Still, he’d surprised me by ordering a grilled chicken sandwich and then removing the bun. He’d eaten maybe five of my fries. “I’m good. Maybe next time I go for the pizza, you shouldn’t bitch about it. I think I’ve proved I have some self-control. A lot of it, actually.”
I gave him the side-eye for that, but I’d grant that he’d been on good behavior for the past few weeks. At least where football was concerned. Instead, he seemed to have funneled all his mischief into messing with me, which was a problem in that…it was becoming less of a problem. When he’d threaded his fingers through mine in the restaurant, I’d hardly batted an eye, just gone along with it as he tipped his head to one side, indicating another table. “People are looking at us. Let’s give them something to yammer about.” My dick had taken notice, of course, recalling the sweaty tangle of our bodies years before like it had been yesterday, the powerful thrust of his thighs as he rode me, fingers interlocked with mine. I could blame that for excessive fry consumption, right? I’d stuffed them by the handfuls in my mouth, trying to distract myself.
Cullen nudged my shoulder as we walked. “You all packed?”
“Yeah.” It was a two-day trip, so there wasn’t much to pack.
“Nervous?”
“Nah. Used to these interviews by now.” I eyed Cullen sidelong and chuckled. “Okay, maybe a little.” It wasn’t the interview I was nervous about, though; I couldn’t put my finger on it exactly, just knew this trip felt a little different than the ones that had come before.
“You’ll do fine. Always do.”
I tried to gauge whether Cullen was being sarcastic, but his expression read as sincere. Then he dropped his arm around my shoulder, and I blanched. The man just couldn’t help himself.
“You looked cold,” he explained with a savage quirk of his lips. “I’m doing my duty as a boyfriend to warm you up.”
“You like provoking me on purpose. Fucking footsie and handholding in a restaurant. Christ.” Casual affection hadn’t been something we’d had much of in college. At least not in public, and we’d been leery of it in private, too, afraid we’d slip up in public. Ironic that we were finally able to do it now when we weren’t even in a real relationship. The other ironic thing was how unnaturally natural it felt, even if I didn’t want it to.
He barked out a laugh. “I’m not denying I like provoking you, but that wasn’t footsie back there. That table was tiny. I was trying to stretch my legs out. I notice you haven’t moved my arm, though.”
“Too full,” I lied. The arm felt nice, and hell, maybe I should provoke him right back. It occurred to me he’d been forcing me onto the defensive, testing me like he always did. Maybe I should turn the tables again.
I slid an arm around his waist, let my fingers wander inside, drifting over his warm skin, and then grinned at his bewildered expression. “My hand was cold, too, and you’re my boyfriend, right?”
“Alright, go for it, then.”
We separated as he yanked the door to the lobby open, and I thought maybe we were done messing with each other, but once the elevator doors slipped closed, he looked me up and down, zeroing in on my groin, gaze heating. “You’re hard.”
“And the sky is blue. You are, too.” I shifted beside him. Could he see my cock straining against my jeans? Did I even care? Fuck it—it was probably undeniable at this point. Cullen could get me hard at the drop of a hat. “You gonna unzip me? Pull my cock out and put it in your mouth? That’s what boyfriends do, isn’t it?” I was definitely playing with fire. It took a shit ton of effort to keep my voice even. My dick was throbbing, and the heat of his body was like an inferno.
