Page 45 of Sneaking Around with the Player
“All right.” I crook a hand behind my head. “Makes my plans to kidnap you and keep you with me easier.”
She giggles again and then sits up quickly and straddles me, still wearing only her T-shirt and her sexy red panties with a giant wet spot.
I stare at her, wondering how I got so damn lucky. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh, yeah.” Her brows lift and she moves so that she’s rubbing against my dick. Oh, damn that feels good.
As much as I don’t want to, I lift her off me and grab my laptop. She sits cross-legged on my bed while I pull up the movie. The look on her face when she sees what I’ve chosen is priceless.
“Home Alone 2.That’s my favorite.”
“I know. I remembered.”
“Holly likes the first one better, but there’s just something about this one.”
“I still haven’t watched it.” I hit play, and we sit side by side, leaning our backs against the headboard.
“It’s so good,” she promises and drapes a leg over mine.
I spend as much time watching her reactions to the movie as I do watching it myself. I don’t get to observe her like this, in the little moments just living life and going about her days, and it tugs at something in my chest.
We get about halfway through before her phone starts buzzing. The first two times I don’t say anything when she silences it, but I hit pause when it goes off the third time.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s Holly.”
“You have to go?”
She nods. “Maybe I can duck out early.”
“Nah. Don’t be silly. It’s your yearly tradition.”
“What are you going to do tonight?”
“Not sure. I’ll probably call a buddy from high school. Better than sitting around here waiting for my dad to get on my case about not going to the gym enough over break.”
“You haven’t talked to him yet?”
I shake my head. By the time I got up this morning, both mom and dad were already gone for the day. Not that I probably would have brought it up anyway. It’s hard because, on the surface, things are fine. If my dad notices that I grind my teeth every time he offers up advice on upping my game, he hasn’t mentioned it. And it’s just easier not to start a fight when I’m only home for a couple more days.
“He means well,” I say to defend him. I don’t want Stella to think either of my parents are bad people—they aren’t.
“I’m sure he does, but their actions are affecting you in a real way. You need to talk to them.”
“We don’t do that.” I give her a half-hearted grin and then concede. “I know.”
“They can’t read your mind. You love football, don’t let them make you hate it.”
“I love it, huh?”
“I saw how happy you were out there today with Scottie. Cute, too. I can’t wait to watch you in a real game.”
“That was different.” As soon as I say the words, I wonder if that’s true. And if it is, why.
Her phone buzzes again.
“Come on. You’re going to be late.”
She sighs and sits up, then pulls her jeans back on. Before she stands, I duck my head under her T-shirt and give each boob one more kiss. I’m gonna miss those. I’m gonna miss the woman attached to them.
