Page 16 of Sweet Temptation
“Probably Lex.” Pretty sure Linc regrets his words immediately.
“Sexy Lexie does more than bake?” the shithead asks, and Linc’s knuckles turn white. “Fuck yes.”
Rome rounds the side of the house and lets himself through the gate as we finish up in the driveway. “I’m gonna kill him.”
We drop the clubs inside the garage and follow Rome into the backyard where he’s got Dillan Ryan already over his shoulder as he jumps in the pool. The rest of the girls watch, laughing, with hard seltzers in their hands and a spread of food laid out on the table like they thought they were feeding an army.
“Damn,” Linc mutters as he scans our backyard before he walks inside, followed pretty damn closely behind by Brea.
“Those two are never going to really be over, are they?” Lexie asks softly as she stops next to me.
At least that’s what I think she said. But swear to God, gun to my head, I couldn’t be sure because my brain just exploded like a bad fucking cartoon.
Little Lexie isn’t so little anymore.
She’s always been pretty.
Too damn pretty and too damn sweet and too damn tempting.
So fucking tempting. And that was fully clothed.
Little Lexie in a pale-pink string bikini is just—fuck.
She tilts her head to the side and smiles. “Lucky?”
Shit.
“Sorry, what?” I ask because I seriously don’t have a clue what she just said.
“Are you hungry?” She licks her lips, and my dick goes from a semi to hard as rock because I’m famished... for her. “We made ribs and chicken and grilled veggies and corn salad.”
No clue what makes me reach out and tuck the hair sticking to her cheek behind her ear, but I do it all the same, and it’s a bad move. Epically bad. Because the one rule I’ve lived by for years is not touching Lexie.
Her eyes fly to mine. Long black lashes flutter, framing vibrant green irises, fresher and brighter than any football field or golf course I’ve played on, as we stand here, locked in something close to hell.
“Rome, you asshole,” Dillan yells as she storms out of the pool, thankfully breaking the spell.
“Put a shirt on, Lex,” I grumble and ignore the hurt in her eyes. The one I’ve gotten really good at placing there. “You’re gonna burn.”
I don’t wait for a response.
I don’t deserve one.
Instead, I make a plate, grab a beer, and go inside.
Fuck this shit.
LUCKY
My hamstring burns by the end of practice, but I left it all out there today. Whatever happens now, there’s no turning back. I have no regrets as I look at Coach standing on the center of the field as practice comes to an end. A clipboard in his hands and a Kings hat that looks like he may have gotten it back during his days as our QB shielding his eyes from the mid-afternoon sun. The team surrounding him in a semicircle all waiting for one of his classic Declan Sinclair speeches. Some are pep talks. Some are inspirational. Some are absolutely meant to kick our asses and keep us in line.
Today is different.
We all know it. You can feel it in the air.
When preseason started, there were ninety players filling this field.
Three days from now, fifty-three will be dressed.
