Page 47 of Silent Count
“Yeah, it’s right here.” I turn, and our chests brush against each other.
He lifts his arm and braces his hand on the shelf next to my head. His other hand comes to my hip. “I can’t stop thinking about the other night.”
“Me neither.” I’m not the type of girl to blush, but I can feel the heat in my cheeks. Not from embarrassment, but from getting turned on just by his proximity. Right here. In the library. Where I work.
Ah, fuck it.
I take hold of his shirt and fist it in my hand, pulling him into me and bringing his lips to mine. When I slide my tongue into his mouth, we both moan. He drops his hand from the shelf behind me and wraps his arm around my waist, tugging me in closer to his body, and I can feel his hard-on through his jeans against my belly.
“Fuck yes.” He kisses my forehead, then kisses me again on the lips. “We’d better get going. I can’t be held accountable for my actions if we keep standing here, kissing. I’m about to blow in my jeans. From a kiss.” He shakes his head, laughing, but he doesn’t seem to be embarrassed.
“That might be hard to explain to your teammates in the locker room, I’m sure.” I giggle. “Let’s go.”
I unwrap my arms and turn back around and grab the book I need. When I face him again, I see him adjusting his dick in his pants with a smirk on his face.
“Better?”
“As good as it’s gonna get,” he grumbles, but he’s smiling.
We walk down the row and then down the stairs. I have to check out the book, so I walk toward the counter, and he stays with me. Once my book is checked out, we start to walk out, and a few people congratulate him on Saturday’s game as they pass.
He reaches for my hand, but I pull away. I don’t want my supervisor to see us holding hands if she happens to walk by. It’s not in the actual rule book that you can’t date a student you’re tutoring, but it doesn’t really look good either.
“You don’t want to hold my hand?” He’s looking at me, but doesn’t look upset. “Are you embarrassed of me?”
“No, it’s not that. I just don’t want my supervisor to see us.” I shrug.
“Ah, gotcha.” He leans down close to my ear. “But when we’re not in the library, will you let me hold your hand?”
He’s so cute for asking. And I can tell he’s being sincere. Like he doesn’t want to do anything that would make me uncomfortable. Which just makes me like him even more. Because public displays of affection—or, hell, even just hugging my aunt, sister, or Noelle—haven’t always been a natural thing for me. And I like that he can sense that about me.
I smile up at him. “Yes, Bo, I’ll let you hold my hand outside of the library.”
“Yes.” He makes a fist and pumps his arm into his body.
“Oh my God, Bo.” I can’t help the loud laugh that squeaks out. “You’re a dork.”
He looks down and has a huge smile on his face, his eyes literally sparkling. “I wanna be your dork.”
When we get to the doors, he holds one open for me. Then, as soon as we walk out of the building, he reaches for my hand.
I entwine my fingers with his, our hands between us. Like we’ve done this a million times before. Which, for me, is different, but I like it.
Bo’s phone chimes, signaling it’s time for him to head to practice. “Where are you parked?” he asks me.
“I’m on the other side of campus. You go. I’m fine.”
I try to let go of his hand, but he pulls it up to his mouth and kisses my fingers.
“Get home safe. I’ll call you when I get out of practice, okay?” He releases me and starts walking backward.
“Yes, sounds good. Now get to practice before you’re late.”
“Bye, Chelsea.” He winks, then turns and jogs toward the stadium.
“Bye, Bo,” I whisper to myself.
This could be a whole lotta fun or a whole lotta trouble.
