Page 53 of Off Limits

“What for?” I ask just as quietly.

She waves a hand. “For ruining the mood. For bringing up Cal. For making you feel like you had to take me home right away.”

Sighing, I shake my head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You had a good point. And as much as I’d love for you to stay with me all night, having to make up a reason to explain your presence to your brother wouldn’t exactly make me feel better. I don’t like lying to him.”

“I know,” she says in a small voice.

When I pull in front of her dorm, she unbuckles her seatbelt, scoots close to me, holds my face, and gives me a heartbreakingly tender kiss. “Call me tomorrow,” she whispers, and then she pops open her door and hops out of my truck.

I stare after her until she disappears inside, waiting for her to turn and wave like she always does. I wave back, aware that the little bubble of happy rightness we’ve been floating in for the last couple of weeks seems to have sprung a leak.

And I have no idea how to patch it.

* * *

“Sigma Nu’s having a party tonight,” Cal says, his balls at eye level as he finishes toweling off his ass before getting dressed in the locker room.

I hold up a hand to block the unappealing view, forcing myself not to think about the fact that I’ve seen both the McAdam children’s genitals. “Dude. Put that away.”

He cackles and pulls on his underwear, but not without giving me an up close and personal view of his ass.

“You’re lucky I don’t still have my towel,” I grumble, imagining his reaction if I snapped him with a damp towel right on the ass cheek.

“Hey now,” he says in his best censorious tone. “Coach says no horseplay in the locker room.”

I grunt, envisioning other ways to get revenge. Itching powder? Icy Hot in his jockstrap? Mmmm … while the mental image of him squirming in practice is entertaining, those might be too harsh. Plus, he doesn’t need me fucking up his focus during practice. Not when he’s working his ass off to prove himself to Coach Reese and gunning for an invite to the NFL Combines in the spring.

“Anyway,” Cal says, sitting down to put on his shoes before putting on his shirt. “Frat party. We’re all going. Do you want to ride with me or take your own truck?”

I use pulling on my own shirt to stall. Because I don’t want to go to a party tonight. And if Cal’s going to a party, that means plenty of time for me to spend with Ellie without needing to come up with an excuse. We’ve had home games back to back, so I haven’t had to deal with being away from her other than that first weekend after we got together, but we have away games almost every weekend for the rest of the regular season. I want to spend as much time with her as I can. Last weekend I had my knee as an excuse to not go out, but it’s back to normal now after icing it all Sunday and taking it easy on Monday. Since Tuesday, other than an extra brace during practice and thicker knee sleeves for my lower body workouts, I haven’t done anything different, so I don’t have a good excuse not to go.

“Nah,” I try. “Not tonight. I’m just gonna head home and chill.”

Cal’s not having it, though. “Dude. You’ve barely come out at all this semester. And the last time was weeks ago. The whole team’s going. This is our last season. You at least gotta come and make an appearance. Duck out early if you want, I guess, but you might have fun if you put in even a tiny bit of effort.”

Letting out a sigh, I try one more time, though I’m aware I’m fighting a losing battle. “I’m tired, man. I don’t feel like drinking shitty beer and watching everyone around me hookup.”

He twists his face in a look of disgust. “Well, yeah, when you sound like a perv, no wonder you don’t wanna go. Don’t drink the shitty beer, then. But you could hook up, too, you know. Some chicks like the giant silent type.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m aware of that.” There’s one chick in particular who I’m quite certain is a fan of the giant silent type, which is why I won’t be hooking up with anyone at the party.

Martinez, the wide receiver, comes around the corner, fully dressed, jacket on, but hair still damp from the shower. “Woo! You boys ready? We’re gonna have fun tonight!”

Cal gestures at Martinez. “See what I mean? Everyone’s going. You have to come.”

Martinez settles down, looking between Cal and me. “Who doesn’t want to come?”

“Simon,” Cal answers, hooking a thumb at me. “Says he’s too tired.”

“What are you, an old man already?” Martinez asks, shaking his head. “Psssh. Get a coffee. You can sleep when you’re dead.” And on that cheerful note, he heads off to rouse the rest of the team.

Cal looks at me with raised eyebrows. “See? You’ll be missed if you don’t show. Drive your own truck, it’s fine.” Standing, he grabs his jacket. “Come hang out, drink one shitty beer, and then you can bail if you’re not having fun.”

“I thought you said I didn’t have to drink the shitty beer,” I call after his retreating back.

He turns. “If you’re not there, I’m gonna come find you,” he says, then disappears around the corner.

Fuck. He will, too. And since I don’t want him to find me balls deep in his sister, that means I need to make at least a brief appearance.

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