Page 112 of Quarterback Sneak
He looks at Zane but promptly closes his mouth and puts up his hands in surrender before looking at me. “I thought he’d be in a good mood after sleeping with you. What’s his deal?
I cough. “That isnot...”I pause at the glint in his eyes and realize he’s teasing me.
Zane knocks his shoulder into him. “Leave her alone.”
I pull another pancake off the stove and place it on top the others. “Those smell so good,” Quint says, trying to reach for one.
I use my spatula to smack his hand. “Hands off until we eat.”
“Seriously?” He looks so dejected, I can’t hide my smile. I meet Zane’s gaze, and his eyes dance. “We’re eating in like five minutes.”
“Why does he get one?” Quint pouts.
I whirl around to see Slate walking away with a pancake already half gone. “How’d you do that?”
Slate shrugs and heads over to the table. I grab the butter, the syrup I warmed up, and the platter of pancakes and place all of it on the table. I go back for the orange juice but Reid beats me to it. Zane carries over the eggs. Slate and Quint grab the skillet of sausages and the fresh fruit. “Did you make coffee?” I ask Zane. I thought about it but never got around to it.
He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my middle, pulling me flush with his chest. “Do you think I’d forgetcoffee for you?” he says in a low voice. I shiver as his words brush against my ear. “I even got creamer for you.”
“French vanilla?” I ask, turning to look up at him.
He smiles. “Yeah.” He leans forward and captures my lips, and I hear three separate groans. I laugh and pull away. His eyes are filled with happiness when he looks at me.
Quint looks over at me. “Can we finally eat?”
I laugh. “Yes. Go ahead.” I watch in contentment as all three guys stuff their plates to the brim.
“Yay for a day off,” Quint says around a bite of eggs.
“Don’t forget we have soccer later,” Slate reminds everybody, but nobody pays attention.
I lean against Zane contentedly. “Are you going to grab food?” I ask him.
“Not any time soon if it means I can’t have you in my arms anymore.” His fingers trace a small circle on my stomach, and I feel my body heat under his touch.
Quint makes a gagging sound. “Can you guys please come eat, so I don’t lose my breakfast?”
I pat Zane’s arm, and he reluctantly lets me go. I turn to him.Later,I promise.
His eyes darken.When?
I shrug, grinning; and he narrows his eyes at me. I walk over to the table, enjoying the feel of his eyes on my body. I fill a plate for him before filling my own plate. When I sit down, I don’t know that I’ve ever felt lighter. Zane places a mug of steaming coffee in front of me a moment later, kissing me on the cheek as he does. He sits next to me, and I don’t fail to notice how he angles his body towards me. His leg leans against mine, and I don’t make any move to pull away. After he gets settled, he drops a hand on my thigh and strokes lazy circles on my leg. Somehow, I manage to eatandpay attention to the conversation floating around me. Everybody pitches in after breakfast to help pick up.“Soccer in the backyard in one hour,” Slate says before he leaves the kitchen.
I groan and put my hands on my stomach. “I think I’ll have to sit this one out.”
“Nope,” Slate calls from the other room. “You sleep in this house, you play.”
I make a face at Zane, but he just smirks at me. I’m not going to get any sympathy from him. I head into the living room and plop down on the couch, ready to take an after-breakfast nap. “Game time,” Quint says, sitting on the couch next to me.
“I was going to take a nap.”
He pats my leg. “Sorry, Evie. You can take a nap later with Zane; right now, it’s game time.”
I feel my face flush and glance over at Zane. He’s got his arms crossed, leaning against the wall. He meets my eyes and winks, and I have a hard time looking away. I can’t believe this man is interested in me. He doesn’t look away as he puts his hand over his heart and rubs. His brows crease, and my smile fades. “Are you okay?” I ask.
He nods, his gaze never leaving mine. I try not to fidget under his piercing stare. I don’t know what he’s feeling, but he seems far away. “Yo, Evie, you ready?”
I finally face Quint. “What are we playing?” He opens a pink little pig box and takes out several pigs and cards. I stare down at the game and back at Quint. “We’re really playing a game with little pigs?”
