Page 27 of Falling for the Quarterback

It scares me how good it feels in his arms, so when he sets me down, I quickly dash into the kitchen.

“I’m still hungry,” I mutter, quickly grabbing the half-eaten jar of Nutella and smearing it on a slice of bread. “You?”

“Whatcha got for dessert?”

When I come back to the living room licking my lips, Joel stares at me as if he wants a taste of me.

“What’s that?”

“Only the most delicious thing ever,” I state, taking another unladylike bite. “Nutella sandwich.”

He makes a gagging nose and wrinkles his nose.

“Don’t yuck my yum,” I say defensively. “Who doesn’t like Nutella?”

“Me.”

“That’s one strike,” I tease, popping the last bite into my mouth.

He leans over the tray of empty containers between us, his voice as seductive as ever. “What happens if I get three strikes?”

“I don’t actually know,” I answer truthfully because I really don’t know what we’re doing right now.

Are we flirting? Is this some kind of foreplay between us?

In the end, Joel forgoes dessert, and we share a little about each other’s families and our backgrounds. He tells me about his younger sister attending CFU this year, his time with the football team, and his nerves about starting the coaching position.

None of it has solved our growing problem and the attraction between us that can’t be squelched.

By the time my eyelids begin to grow heavy and I curl up against Hendy’s side on the loveseat, I’ve reassured myself that Joel and I can find a way to just be friends.

“I’m exhausted,” I mutter, finally letting my eyelids close.

“Come on, Professor. Let’s get you to bed.” His voice seems far away, and I feel weightless and safe when he picks me up and carries me down the hallway.

The last thing I remember as I drift off to sleep is wishing this man could be lying asleep next to me.

ChapterTen

Hendy

I remained at Lottie’s house for another thirty minutes before I reluctantly left last night. The rise and fall of her chest with each soft breath had me mesmerized as I sat at the edge of her bed and watched her sleep. I traced the reddish-gold locks of her hair that fanned out over her pillow, brushing away loose strands off her forehead.

Never before had I ever cared enough about a woman to be content just watching her sleep. In the past, if I were in bed with a woman, I’d have fucked her hard and then hightailed it out of there.

But my feelings for Lottie are different and go way beyond that need. Don’t get me wrong. I was dying to get naked, climb into her bed, and touch every inch of her until we were breathless and sated. But I resisted, respecting the boundaries she’d set, and left when the urge to lay down beside her became too strong.

It still took every ounce of my willpower to walk out that door.

But I did.

The idea that we can try to tamp down our feelings and sexual attraction to be friends is ridiculous. I know it. She knows it. But I understand her reasons for setting those limits for the sake of her career.

I get it. I respect her for it. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

Now that I have this position on the team, maybe it wouldn’t be too hard to table the graduate degree for a while and pursue a relationship with Lottie. We could date like any other two consenting adults and school colleagues. No conflict of interest at all.

I like who I am when I’m with her. Like I’m the man I’m meant to become.

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