Page 110 of Shut Up and Score
We both freeze, again. My stomach lurches.
“Yo, Colton!” Caleb’s voice carries through the door. “You two die in there? Coach is looking for you. He wants the team in the lobby for a headcount before bed!”
Micah’s eyes glitter, sharp with mischief, and he doesn’tlet go of my hair.In fact, he gives it a gentle tug, tilting my head back so I have to look up at him while he smirks.
“Not done with you yet,” he whispers, and then he palms my face, thumb brushing my wet lower lip. My pulse stutters.
“Micah,” I hiss, panic and want tangling in my chest.
He leans down, his mouth ghosting my ear. “Shh. Be a good boy for me.”
Anotherknock.“C’mon, man! Don’t make me get the keycard!”
Micah raises his voice just enough to carry through the door—steady, casual, like he isn’t kneeling in front of me with his fingers in my hair. “Yeah, we’re here! Colton’s just…uh…brushing his teeth. Be down in a sec!”
“You got two minutes!” Caleb calls back, his footsteps retreating.
Micah’s grin widens as the hall goes quiet. He slides his hand down my chest, slow, leaving a hot trail of possession before giving my cock a teasing squeeze that makes my whole body jump.
“Gray sweats were a mistake,” he murmurs. “If you walk out there like this, the whole team’s gonna know who owns you. Might wanna change before someone notices.”
Heat punches my gut. I swat weakly at his chest. “You’re really insane,” I pant, tugging him in for one more quick, desperate kiss.
“Yeah,” he murmurs against my lips with a smile, brushing his nose against mine. “And you love it.”
I shove at his shoulder until he lets me scramble off the bed. My legs are still wobbly as I dig through my duffel, yanking out a pair of black joggers and a clean tee. My hands shake,adrenaline and leftover lust making it hard to even tie the drawstring.
Micah leans against the wall, arms folded, just watching me with that smug predator smile. “You look good in black,” he says, voice rough with satisfaction. “But I liked the sweats better. Easy access.”
I flip him off, which only makes his smirk deepen.
We wipe up quick—him swiping at my chin with my old hoodie—both of us still flushed and messy. My heart’s hammering so hard I can barely hear, and the thrill of almost getting caught is addictive.
By the time we step into the hall, the team’s voices echo from the stairwell. Caleb glances back over his shoulder, raising a brow.
“Took you long enough.”
“Had to change,” I mutter. My face burns, but at least now nobody can see what just happened.
Luke’s eyes flick to Micah, knowledge shining in their depths, but he doesn’t say a word. Just smirks and keeps walking.
Every step down the hall, Micah’s knuckles brush mine, and I want to link my fingers with his.
TWENTY-EIGHT
MICAH
Back at the dorms,the quiet feels louder than the hotel ever did. No team shouting in the halls, no laughter bouncing off the walls—just the hum of the TV and the fake cheer ofMario Kartmusic. It shouldn’t feel this loud, this heavy, but my head’s full of the hotel room and of him. Colton. The taste of him on my tongue and the way he broke for me, soft and shaking.
I shouldn’t be smiling at that memory, but it creeps in anyway, twisting my chest tight.
Luke sprawls next to me on the beanbag, controller in one hand, a bag of Doritos in the other. He’s grinning like he already knows too much. “Alright, spill it,” he says, nudging me as though I’m a vending machine he’s trying to shake snacks out of. “You and Golden Boy disappeared for, like, an hour at the hotel. Didn’t play cards, didn’t answer your phones. What the hell were you doing?”
“Sleeping,” I say flatly, eyes on the screen.
“Uh-huh.” He crunches down on a chip, not buying a word of it. “And the reason he came back with new pants?”
My fingers tighten around the controller. My kart swerves off course and hits a banana peel, spinning out while Luke rockets past me.
