Beg You to Trust Me (Lindon U #2)(33)
I hum, pulling my phone back out and ignoring the text reply from my grandma. Love her, but she can wait. “Yeah. I’m not that picky about my friends, but I usually draw the line at their bad food habits.”
There’s only a minimal pause before she lifts her shoulders. “Lucky for you, I’ll put just about anything in my mouth.”
My cock grows uncomfortably hard.
Skylar seems unaware of what she just said, and especially ignorant of the growing bulge trapped behind the zipper of my denim.
I position myself behind the counter to hide my hard on and adjust my myself before dialing the pizzeria and ordering three large pies for me and the guys and a small Hawaiian for the dark-haired girl studying the kitchen.
Clearing my throat once I stuff my phone back in my pocket, I lean against the edge of the counter. “You look like you’re about to freak out on me. Say the word, and I’ll take you home.”
Her eyes go from me to the other room where the guys are hollering over something stupid again. When those blue eyes slink back in my direction, I can see the indecision in them. “Do they know?”
It takes me a second to realize what she’s asking. “Maybe some of them. They’re not going to say anything about your time here. Trust me, they would have by now. You’re basically one of us at this point.”
She cringes. “One of the guys…”
It could be my imagination that tells me she sounds disappointed, but I don’t let myself think about that too hard. “I highly doubt any of the guys in there would call you one of them.”
She blinks, confusion taking over.
I let myself give her a quick once over while she watches me. Even without tighter clothes, a face full of heavy makeup, and done-up hair, she’s a knockout. Curvy, which means she’s got more to hold on to in the right situations. A natural beauty instead of a phony under layers of foundation and lipstick. The windblown hair gives her a sexy just-been-laid kind of look that men are drawn to. Me included.
And I’m the lucky bastard who she’s looking at right now, oblivious to the way my dick is standing to attention simply as she is.
Scratching my jaw with one of my fingers, I stifle a sigh and grumble, “Yeah. Definitely not one of the guys.”
Which is a problem.
Because if she were, I wouldn’t be thinking about the positions I’d bend her in to show her a good time.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SKYLAR
Danny’s laugh is loud and obnoxious, but it’s also contagious. He’s poking fun at himself and the things he used to get in trouble for as a kid, making it hard not to be amused. “It’s really no surprise that Ma didn’t have more kids,” he tells me, grinning as he shakes his head.
No kidding. “You really jumped out of a two-story window for fifty bucks?”
He puffs out his chest. “Sure did. I almost didn’t land on the grass either. There was this strip of pavement leading up to the building’s side entrance that I was probably a foot or less away from landing on instead.”
Caleb grabs the last piece of pizza from the greasy box. “You could have broken both your legs, dumbass.”
“Or died,” I point out, wide-eyed from the possibility of his stupidity.
His other teammate, Stephen, chips in with, “Definitely would’ve ended your football career. Then you’d just be some washed up rich boy from Boston. All sad and lonely and shit.”
My eyes snap to the person who invited me here, gaze narrowing as I absorb the information I didn’t know until now. In all the time we’ve spent together, we’ve never discussed backgrounds. I know he’s an only child. I know he grew up with his mother and grandmother. I know his father is out of the picture. I guess I’d be a hypocrite if I was upset over not knowing about his apparent wealth since I’m in the same boat. Just because his family has money doesn’t mean he does. It doesn’t really change anything.
His cheeks pinken when he notices my curious gaze and lifts a shoulder as if to say it’s not a big deal.
I get it. There’s no real reason why I haven’t said, ‘I come from money too. Want to trade country club horror stories?’. With Becca, my hesitancy comes with the attitude I’m sure I’ll receive from her. She likes being the smart one who will walk away from Lindon debt free thanks to her full ride. If she knew my parents paid for everything, it’ll be another reason for her to dislike me. But DJ? I doubt that’s the case.
He’s never brought up the rumors of my reputation that I know are circulating around campus. But sometimes I see the look he gives me like he wonders about where the tales come from. He doesn’t ask, so I never elaborate because what is there to say that would convince the man who wants to be my friend for some reason that I don’t sleep around.
Would it matter to him? Should it?
If it does, then everything changes between us.
The man in question tosses one of the throw pillows from the couch at his friend. “I wouldn’t be sad and lonely. Football was never going to be my end game.”
“It wasn’t?” I ask before I can stop myself.
It’s none of my business, and he confirms as much when he doesn’t enlighten me on the subject. “What about you, Blondie? These guys already know all about my embarrassing and dumbass stories. You should share one of your own. Make me feel less like a loser.”