Page 14 of The Midseason Fakeout

Practice ends a few minutes later. Aidan jogs right past the other girls who waited at the fence for him. Before he even gets to me, I mouth,Kiss me.

“You read my mind,” he says, then he lays it on me, cupping the back of my head. His upper lip is sweaty, giving our kiss a hint of salty flavor, but it’s barely noticeable because Aidan kisses like a god. My inner thighs burn. He knows exactly how to work my lips, priming me for something more—

I tamp that thought down. Aidan isnotfor me. He clearly doesn’t want a girlfriend right now, which is weird to think when his tongue is stroking my lips, sending me into a frenzy… But I have to stuff all these feelings away.

Aidan and I need each other, but we don’t need one another inthatway.

5

AIDAN

“Wait for me.”I make Bailey promise before grabbing a handful of her ass.

Her eyes go wide, squealing a bit. Damn, it’s too easy to pretend with her. She giggles, her cheeks turning red. I lean forward to whisper in her ear. I’m sure as far as the jersey chasers are concerned, they probably think I’m saying something super sexy. Instead, I apologize. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked. Maybe we need, um, parameters?”

“It’s fine,” she says quickly, gripping my practice jersey in her hands. “That’s what a boyfriend would do, right?”

I don’t know about that, but that’s whatIdo. Public affection is kind of my jam when I’m seeing a girl. No one has been that close to me here, though. The girls I hooked up with were a moment of… Well, of pure enjoyment.

This close, the scent of flowers wafts up from Bailey’s hair, and I take a deep breath but don’t smell her perfume from yesterday. Not that I should be noticing those things.

I pull away before I lose my head, letting my hands linger on her waist. “Give me about fifteen?”

She nods, glancing toward the girls ogling us from the fence. I make a note to ask her about what I saw during practice because it looked like the jersey chasers’ claws were out.

“You know what? Follow me,” I tell her. “You get the player’s girlfriend treatment.”

We walk in front of the others, and I peek at the one I had a fling with a week or so ago. I don’t know what I was thinking. She’s good looking, that much is true, but she’s spiteful. The stare down she’s giving Bailey makes my hackles go up. I didn’t anticipate this part, though I’m not sure why. I want Bailey to be more like my electric fence, not a target for bullying.

As soon as we clear them, she asks, “What’s the player’s girlfriend treatment?”

I shrug. “No idea. I just wanted it to sound good.”

She chuckles. “So, you haven’t had a girlfriend here yet, Aidan? I find that hard to believe.”

“Girls are distracting, and this is a big year for me.”

Her face scrunches like she’s trying to figure me out. “But the girls you—”

“I know,” I sigh, shaking my head. Honestly, I don’t really have an excuse, I just lost myself for a little while. “I guess I thought hooking up was less distracting, but I think it was more. The whole being the “it boy” thing was like an avalanche. It started out small and then everything kept getting bigger and bigger, and so did the ramifications.” I shudder to even think about it. It felt good having all those people want to be around me, but it was only a mirage. It ruined everything in the end.

I’m not going there again. Playing QB1 for Warner was on my dream board. Next up, winning as many championships as I can before getting drafted to play professionally, and I can’t win championships riding the bench.

We approach the locker room door, and Bailey hangs back. “Did you really want me to wait for you? Or was that for show?”

She peers at the ground, and an uncomfortable sensation pricks at me. I step toward her. “No, I really wanted you to. A few of us usually go get something to eat after practice. Sometimes the girls come along, so it’s best if you’re there. I mean, if you want to, that is.”

Squaring her shoulders, she says, “That’s what I’m here for.”

She meets my gaze, and her beautiful honey-brown eyes make me take a step back and look at her. Her makeup is more subdued this morning. I hadn’t even noticed that she’s not dressed as fancy as she was yesterday. She’s wearing leggings that hug her curves and a long-sleeved shirt instead of heeled boots and jeans. I stare appreciatively. No wonder my hand instinctively cupped her there. Her ass is—

Not mine.I need to remember that.

It’s not mine, nor do I want it to be. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that I have plans. I have goals. “I swear, I can do something for you next,” I tell her. “You know, to keep up my end of the bargain.”

She shakes her head with a small grin. “You are already. I can’t remember the last time I’ve actually been out with a group of people my own age that wasn’t prearranged by my parents, like we still need playdates or something.”

She laughs it off, but shock rings through me. She can’t be—“Are you serious?”

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