Rookie Move (Playing for Keeps #1)(20)

I stared at him. “And neither of you told me?”

Ramsey cracked up. “It wasn’t any of your business. Why would it even come up?”

“Well, now it is.” I guessed it made sense Houston hadn’t said anything since he was Ramsey’s closest friend, and yeah, it hadn’t been my business. But it still felt like a brotherly oversight in my book. “Did you go down a Pornhub rabbit hole?”

“Fuck you.” He laughed. “Maybe. I’ve watched stuff. I was into it, if that’s what you’re getting at. Very into it.”

Do not get hard. Do not get hard imagining Ramsey watching two guys going at it and getting turned on enough to jerk himself off. Do not make the mistake of thinking this means there’s any hope for you, because Ramsey is your teammate in addition to a shit ton of other things that would make him a very poor choice as a partner. And for fuck’s sake, stop wondering whether he uses an overhand or underhand grip to stroke himself.

“Then there’s the whole…” Ramsey gestured around. “Football thing.”

“You’re afraid someone would take advantage of that? I’ve hooked up with plenty of guys, and it’s never been an issue.”

“Yeah, but you’re already out.” He made a face. “I can just see some guy I hook up with talking to some tabloid or something.”

“Well, sure, but that’s a risk with a woman too.” I kinda saw his point, though. Being established in your sexual identity was a different game than just starting to explore it, and Ramsey wasn’t wrong to think someone might choose to exploit him. It was a vulnerable position to be in on a good day, and even more so when you were a star quarterback. God, Warner Ramsey is fucking bi.

I needed to get my bi-fi checked for sure. But first, I needed to push aside my own selfish desires. Ramsey might drive me fucking crazy in ways both annoying and sexy, but he’d looked out for me, helped me out, given me advice, and here was my chance to return the favor.

“What if…”

He put up a hand. “Every bad idea that has ever come out of your mouth started with ‘what if.’ No. Don’t even finish the sentence. Just no.”

“Harsh.” I chuckled. “But hear me out. This is me being genuine. If you want to test the waters with someone, I can help you…” He got a funny look on his face and, worried that meant another denial was forthcoming, I rushed ahead. “No, listen. For just a hookup, you can set your location somewhere else, dress down, give yourself a whole different profession. A whole different persona, even. I can even help you vet the dudes if you want. I have great taste in men, I promise.” What the fuck were these words coming out of my mouth? Since when had I had the desire to be helpful? And not just helpful, but helpful to the first guy I’d ever had a crush on.

“Is it anything like your taste in cars?”

“Tread carefully. That car could mow you down in .2 seconds.”

Ramsey rubbed that spot along his jaw, then said, “I’ll think about it,” in a way that suggested he wouldn’t at all.





5





RAMSEY





There was a large part of me that wanted to kill Garrett McRae. Okay, that might be taking it a bit too far. I didn’t wish him bodily harm, but maybe I could gain the ability to render him speechless anytime I wanted. He’d say something like, what if—and I’d snap my fingers and those plump, kissable lips would be stuck closed.

I smiled at the thought.

Hell, maybe I did have a kink for annoying-ass people, and a slight sadistic streak too, and it all started with one offer to help me out. My mind had gone directly to an offer of a handy or maybe Garrett getting on his knees for me. That second one was what he said when I took myself in hand during my fantasies… What if I sucked your cock, Ramsey? What if you shut me up with your cock, Ramsey?

What if I was losing my fucking mind?

The odds for that were quite high.

I’d gone from wanting to bust his balls, to wondering what they’d feel like against my tongue. It was inconvenient as fuck…and I still wanted to bust them too because that was my favorite thing about Garrett. I had fun with him. He kept me on my toes.

I was also damn proud of him. I could tell he’d been nervous when Coach had called him into his office the day he’d puked, but Garrett hadn’t let it get to him. If anything, it had fueled him. He’d had even more drive every time he shot off the line during practice, showing us his incredible speed. Every sit-up and catch drill too, and when I’d seen him after practice, working on his catches and hand-eye coordination with wall balls over and over again, it showed me how seriously he took this. His hunger was impressive, and it sometimes made me think we’d been quick to worry about him, but then he’d say some dumbass shit or I’d overhear him talking with Cross about trying to sneak women into the hotel during training camp.

Sure, a lot of the guys did shit like that, but rookies needed to be more careful than the rest of us.

Garrett needed to be more careful. He had a lot to prove.

I let my eyes drift ahead a few seats on the plane, seeing him sitting with Cross. They were talking softly, and my nosy ass suddenly wished I’d sat behind him so I could hear.

We were on our way to Vegas for our first preseason game. When I wasn’t thinking about what if, I was wondering how nervous G was about his first game in the NFL.