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“Yeah,” Liam says, running his hand through his hair with worry. I’m so stressed I’m hardly even able to appreciate the way his bicep pops with the way he angles his arm.
“What are we going to do?” I ask. “Do you think they’ll go to bed soon?”
His brow lifts while his mouth tugs to the side. “I doubt it. It’s only nine, and they’re all buzzing from a big win. Plus, tomorrow is a day most of us don’t have morning classes. I think we’re kind of …”
“Trapped,” I finish.
“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s … kind of hot, right?”
I curl my lips out in a pout and narrow my glare at him.
“Not hot,” he corrects himself. “Unfortunate. Regretful. Disastrous. And totally not hot.”
I collapse onto his bed in defeat. “Okay, it’s kinda hot.”
He lowers himself next to me, taking the hem of my shirt between his index finger and thumb, his fingers scraping against my hip bone. “Really fucking hot, actually.”
I brush his hand away. “We’re not doing it again,” I announce. Even though the feeling of his rough, powerful knuckles against my soft skin sent a surge of heat snaking to my thighs, we can’t risk it.
“Don’t trust yourself to stay quiet, huh?” he teases.
I elbow him in the stomach.
“Ouch!” he whispers. He massages his temples while grimacing in fake pain. “I can’t believe you’d hit a man who’s pretending to have a headache.”
“What are we going to do?” I groan quietly.
Liam shrugs. “What else is there to do? You’ll stay over.”
My stomach does a flip. The idea of actuallyspending the nightin Liam’s room has my skin prickling with an emotion that I can’t quite identify.
“Are they really going to be up that late?” I ask.
I hear a unified shout from downstairs; reaction to something on the videogame they’re playing, I’m sure.
“Yeah,” Liam chuckles. “I think so.”
I glance to his window that currently has one of his curtains drawn over it. “I guess sneaking down from your window …”
“Uh, no way,” Liam says.
“Yeah.” I wasn’t really thinking about it. For one, I’m way too uncoordinated and unathletic to pull it off. Two, the guys would probably see me drop down through the living room windows even if I could.
“So, it’s our first official sleep over then,” Liam says. The wordssleep overmake my stomach do something I can’t explain. It feels … warm, fuzzy. Kind of nice.
For just a second, I let myself imagine how it would feel if I wasn’t his coach’s daughter, if he wasn’t a player I’m literally banned from being involved with. How it would feel if we were just two regular people who met in that club last Halloween, reconnected this semester, and now we’re spending the night together in his room.
How it would feel to snuggle up in his arms with the lights off, talk without having to worry about how loud we’re being, if we could walk downstairs for a late-night snack together …
But the reality of the situation doesn’t let me curl up in that delusion for long.
“I need to text Kayla so she doesn’t think I’ve been kidnapped,” I say, reaching for my phone. I send her a text saying that I’m staying over at my dad’s house tonight. There’s no reason for her not to believe me, so she sends me back a thumbs up emoji a second later.
It feels bad lying to her, but I have no choice.
Even though Kayla is an amazing best friend who supports me in everything I do, she’d tell me off quick for being so reckless as to sneak around with Liam, when my professional future is at stake.
And she’d be right. But she just doesn’t understand the irresistible, magnetic pull between me and Liam …
