Page 23 of Hidden Plays
Malik and Tex circled Casey, Malik saying, “Dude, that’s not sweet. That’s a guy looking to get laid.”
“I thought you were a connection guy?” Tex narrowed his eyes at me. “This dude doesn’t sound like your type.”
“He’s…” Fuck, how do I explain this? I sipped more coffee. “He wasn’t like that in person.”
“How was he in person, then?” Casey ate the rest of his cupcake and licked his fingers.
“He was sweet. When other guys came around, he was very protective of me.” Only because I’d asked him to, but still. I peeked into the pastry box. What the hell, I should have one. “We’ll see how things go this week.” After snatching a fluffy pastry with orange filling, I bit into it. Sweet butter with a hint of orange liqueur filled my tongue. “Oh my God, we need more of these.” The conversation about last night was over.
I spentthe rest of Sunday studying for midterms and woke up early Monday to hit the gym. Casey had badgered me periodically about seeing more texts from Holden, but I’d fended him off for now. I’d promised Holden I’d do his stretches twice a day and I keep my promises. As I strolled into the almost empty facility, my gaze snagged on Holden.
Pulling a bar on a cable to his shoulders and back up, he saton a bench, sweat dripping down his bare, muscled back. The dude was strong. He was lifting almost the entire weight stack.
We should have a little chat about his text. I’d need more, but texts that would fit better coming from a boyfriend and not a fuckboy. “Hey.” I stepped behind him. “Need a spot?”
His gaze flicked to mine, and his cheeks flushed. “No, I’m good.” He lifted the bar, dropping the stack of weights onto the machine. “What’s up?”
“I’m uh, I’m here to get my first round of stretches done, so I came in early.” My gaze fell to the bulge in his shorts, and my dick twitched. Goddamn, what did he have in there? It had felt damn good pressed against me at The Club.
“Okay, want some help with them?” He stood, grabbed a towel from the back of the bench, and wiped sweat from his chest. “I’m about done here, anyway.”
I focused on his nipples, standing at attention. “You should wear a shirt in here.” I winced. What the fuck was I saying?
“Why?” Twisting, he looked around him. “There’s hardly anyone here.” His attention shifted to me. “What are you looking at?”
His hot as fuck body. “Nothing.” I glanced at the mats in the room's corner.Focus, JJ.Talk to him about the text messages. Lifting the edge of my mouth, I said, “Hey, so the text you sent? It was too much sex and not enough sweet.”
“Yeah? You told me to text you like a gay man, not like how I’d text a chick.” He lowered his brows. “If I texted a chick like that, I’d never hear from her again.”
“Yeah? Well, a gay man looking for a relationship would find the text vulgar too.” Did he think gay men were all perverts? I hated that shit. As heat swirled in my chest, I said, “Next time, text something sweet.” I poked his chest. “Like how much you miss me or how much you love my laugh.”
He wrinkled his forehead, his mouth dropping open. “You…you want me to text you some more?”
Fuck.“Yes.” With a scoff, I said, “The guys are still all over meand want to see verification I found a boyfriend. Especially Casey.” Why were they in everyone’s business all the time?
“Okay.” He shrugged. “I can do that.” As a slow smirk spread over his lips, he said, “As long as you keep doing the stretches and resistance band workouts I gave you.”
“If I don’t get better soon, I’m not doing it.” I clenched my jaw. I still wasn’t sure I could trust him. Or was it that I didn’t trust his skills as a trainer?
“If you don’t do it, I’ll stop texting.” He stepped closer to me, his chest touching mine.
A shiver raced over my skin, and my pulse pounded in my ears. Goddamn, why did his presence irritate meandturn me on? Forcing my gaze to his, I said, “What am I supposed to do if it doesn’t work? I can’t have an injury.”
“If it doesn’t work, we’ll try something else. I’ll come up with new routines for you to try.” He tilted his head, flicking his gaze to my lips for a beat. “Trust me, JJ. I can help you with this.”
Stepping back, I blinked a few times.Trust him? How can I when he?—
“I want you to succeed. We’re not in high school anymore. You need to get over the fucking MVP award.” He grabbed my forearm. “You know, that award almost killed me.” His hand slid to my wrist.
“What? Why?” I stared at him. I’d been so self-centered I’d never asked him what happened to him after high school.
“Do you know what it’s like having your life’s dream ripped away, right when it was about to be reality?” His eyes grew glassy. “Yes, I had a scholarship to Penn State. Until the surgeries failed and the doctors said my knee would never hold up in football. The university revoked my scholarship. That award is like afuck youto me. Fuck you, you’ll never play football. Fuck you, you’ll never be in the NFL. Fuck you—” With his breath hitching, he swiveled and swiped at his eyes, growling. “You’ll never amount to anything.”
My eyes widened. Holy shit, I never thought about it thatway. Here I was, worried about my draft position while he was striving to discover a new passion in life. A connection to the sport he loved, even though he’d never play again. “I’m…I’m sorry.” I reached for him and then dropped my arm.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Inhaling sharply, he faced me. “Just know your success is my success, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” I peeked at the mats again. I should start and maybe be a little humbler. “How about you make sure I do your routine correctly?”
