Page 3 of Falling for the Quarterback

“Let’s go to mine. You can follow me. I’m just a mile up the road.” I say as he leads us out to the parking lot, his hand returning to the small of my back.

The minute we get to the house and we’ve removed our outerwear, the electricity crackles and vibrates around us. I secretly want to pat myself on the back for being brave enough to pick up this hot as hell man. He’s young, gorgeous, and has biceps that look like I could hang from them.

Fuck me.

“I plan to,” he whispers in a sexy, throaty voice as he steps into my body, running his nose along my neck, and then plants his lips there.

Oh shit. I said that out loud.

I let out a sharp gasp when he picks me up to carry me down the hallway, and I wrap my legs around his waist.

“Just show me the way.”

I point him toward the bedroom and as he sets me down on the edge of the bed, I raise my palm to his chest.

“Just to be clear, this is only for one night. Not the weekend,” I state, my body weeping with need as he stands before me and whips his shirt off his torso.

His hair is messy and his glacier-blue eyes have turned into a dark winter storm.

“I can work with that.”

It’s a good thing I laid down that rule because he’s just the type of man I could fall for too easily.

I have too much ahead of me to want anything more than a one fun and sex-filled night with Hendy.

ChapterOne

Charlotte – Earlier that Day

“Well? How did it go? Should I start calling youProfessorfrom here on out?”

I chuckle at my best friend’s question. It’s just like Poppy to put the proverbial cart before the horse. She’s always been on my side since we met in the first year of uni as Freshers and one of my biggest advocates. Especially during the challenging times in my life over the past five years.

I, on the other hand, am a bit more reluctant to jump on that moving train until I’ve received an official offer and the new position is confirmed.

“I think I did well in the panel interview,” I offer, recalling the six faces that stared at me across the university conference room table. “They seemed impressed with some of my research papers and asked a lot about my dissertation.”

“Of course they did! You’re bloody brilliant and they’d be lucky to have your beauty and brains at their Hicksville university.”

I make a scolding noise into the speaker phone, gathering up my toiletries from the hotel bathroom and stuffing them in my suitcase. “It’s small, by comparison, yes. But Clearview Falls has a wonderful rich history as one of the top schools in the West.”

“Pish…but it’s not Cambridge,” she argues, a whine in her sultry British voice.

I snort. “Thank God for that. I’m very glad to be in the US and not back home.”

There’s a pause and I can hear her light a cigarette on the other end of the line. It’s late back in the UK, and I know she’s just returned home from a date.

A pang of homesickness flits through my belly at the memories we shared all those years ago during uni and our subsequent absence when I moved to the East Coast for my PhD program.

“Did they give you a definitive answer on when they’d make their decision and when you’d hear back?”

“Not soon enough. The dean said they’ll be finishing up their interviews this week and then making decisions the following. But you know how long these things take. It could be months.”

“What does that mean for you?” she asks, exhaling a breath over the line. “Will you stay there in the mountains until a decision is made? You have nothing to rush back to Boston for, after all.”

Don’t I know it. There is nothing and no one keeping me there. In fact, I have no plans if I don’t get this role as an assistant professor on a tenure-track. No other prospects at the moment. And I certainly don’t want to return to Cambridge with my pride in my hands and have to live with my father.

“Yes, I think I’m going to take Ana up on her offer and check out her mountain chalet for the weekend.”

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