Quarterback Sneak (Red Zone Rivals #3)(41)

I held my breath, standing completely still as she stared directly at the window where I stood.

Julep walked over to her own bay window, leaning close enough to the glass that I could see the faint outline of her face. She stood there for a long moment, staring, but made no other sign that she saw me.

I waited for her to wave, or flip me off, but after a moment, she reached down to the coffee table beside her and grabbed a glass of water, nearly draining it. I saw her gaze go up to the top of the window next, and I wondered if she was about to draw her own blinds, to do what I didn’t have the strength to do.

But she hesitated, her chest still heaving from the exertion of her last flow.

Her eyes slowly trailed to my window again.

And then, her hands came to the front of her bra, meeting at the small piece of cloth in the middle of her breasts.

No, not cloth.

A clasp.

One she unfastened while I watched.

My next breath halted at the base of my throat, as if even it was afraid one little movement would scare her off. But fear was the last thing reflected in what I could see of Julep’s face as she slowly opened her bra, sliding a strap off her left shoulder and then her right. She let the fabric dangle from one finger before it dropped to the floor, and then she leaned forward, pressing her hands against the ledge of the window and using the streetlight to give me a perfect view of her breasts.

I bit back a curse as my cock twitched to life, growing achingly hard as she ran a hand up her rib cage to cup herself. She framed her nipple, rolling it between her fingertips, and then leaned down a bit more so I could see her face.

Her wicked smile.

She watched me for a long moment, or maybe she let me watch her. And then, she wiggled her fingers in a teasing wave and reached up for the blinds, pulling them down in one fell swoop that snuffed out the entrancing view of her.

I was still cemented in place when my phone pinged from the couch.

I ambled over, adjusting my cock in my sweatpants as I lifted the device and found Julep’s name on the screen.

Goodnight, Cap.

I shook my head, biting my lower lip.

And one thought played on repeat in my mind for the rest of the night.

I’m in trouble.

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Julep



I was already seated in the second row of the bus with JB, the two of us going over each player and what they’d need for today’s game, when Holden showed up.

“Clay’s ankle has still been bothering him, so we’ll need to tape it up good and do some mobility checks on it before he warms up,” JB continued through the list, but his voice faded.

Everything faded as I watched Holden out the window.

His hair was damp and darker than usual, laying in haphazard waves that he nonchalantly ran his hand through as he approached the bus. He shrugged his bag off his shoulder and handed it to one of the staff who was loading up the equipment, and then he immediately put his over-the-ear, noise-canceling headphones on.

He wore the team’s colors, a brick red hoodie and matching sweats with NBU’s golden logo stretched across his chest. There was something stupidly appetizing about him in those sweats, in the way they hugged his hips and thighs and… a certain other region, too. It wasn’t fair that he looked that fucking hot in joggers and a hoodie, but it wasn’t just that he was an athlete boarding a bus to a game with that cocky swagger only college athletes had.

It was that he looked cozy, comfortable, like he would crook that smile at any second, showing you his dimple and pulling you under one arm before he kissed your forehead.

Just as that thought hit me, Holden’s eyes snapped to where I watched him through the window.

I tore my gaze away, trying to catch up with JB’s conversation as my cheeks flushed and my heart raced. What the hell is wrong with me? I idly wondered, but I swatted that thought away like a gnat, too.

“…for Holden. And then—”

“Sorry, what was that?” I asked JB, blinking back to our conversation.

JB arched a brow with a smile. “I said, we should line up a pre-game deep tissue for Holden. Do you disagree?”

I paused like I was considering, like I really had to think about it. “No, I think it’s a good call. He may not be playing, but he’ll be tense from the sidelines. It definitely couldn’t hurt.”

“My thoughts exactly. I’ll put Tanner on that while you and I handle the active players.”

I tried not to slump with my disappointment that it wouldn’t be me giving that massage. “Perfect.”

Then, Holden boarded our bus, climbing the steps slowly with his headphones still in place.

It took every effort to keep my eyes on the clipboard where JB pointed as he went over the rest of the team’s notes, especially when I caught scent of Holden, that familiar spice of his body wash striking my nose and zapping me back to the night we kissed.

His joggers brushed my shoulder as he passed.

And I swore I felt his hand through the pocket squeezing my arm — just a little, just enough to make me tilt my chin down over my shoulder and glance back at him.

But he kept on walking, all the way to the back, and when he plopped down in a seat, he looked out the window — not at me.

I swallowed, wondering if I’d misread last night, if he was upset with what I’d done. He’d been the one to break our kiss last week, and we both knew it couldn’t happen again.