The Trouble With Quarterbacks

It’s an obvious joke since Logan hasn’t got an ounce of fat on him.

“Cute. You look cute,” he amends.

I groan. “What is it with me and that word?!”

“You don’t like it?”

“A hamster is cute. A fat little gerbil—aw, it’s so cute. For once, I want to be called something other than cute.”

“I didn’t think I was allowed to tell you what I really think.”

His voice has gone all menacing and romantic. Oh dear.

“That’s right,” I say, starting to back up, because he’s getting rather close again. He’s got this feral look in his eyes, like he’s not quite sure what he’ll do with me once he catches me. “You can’t. It’s against the rules.”

“Whose rules, exactly? Do you have an employee handbook I can take a look at? I bet there’s nothing in there about dating a student’s uncle.”

I’m flustered now, because he keeps getting closer and my back hits the edge of the pool and I’m stuck, waiting there for him to devour me. My stomach tumbles around like I’m on a rollercoaster or being chased by a hulking beast. My free hand shoots out right as he reaches me, and my palm flattens against the center of his chest. A little more pressure from him and my arm bends like a spaghetti noodle. So much for attempting a bit of distance…

His leg slides between mine and he sandwiches me against the edge of the pool. Thank god I put on his jeans or we’d be skin to skin down there. My wet knickers wouldn’t protect me one bit.

I’m losing myself quickly. I feel my sanity slipping as his hands reach out below the surface of the water to grip my waist so he can position me against his hips. Oh Lordy. I’m done for.

His head tilts toward mine, and I even lift my chin a bit on impulse before remembering the rules.

“We can’t kiss,” I say, my voice little more than a whisper.

“Right,” he says, moving his head farther toward mine. “We can’t kiss.”

His lips hover there, so close to mine it’s like we’re kissing without kissing, toeing the line so closely we’re millimeters from tipping over it altogether.

My heart is in my throat.

My legs are wrapped around his hips, holding him captive against me.

His hands tighten on my waist and he looks like he’s in pain, staving off our attraction like this. Then he groans and makes it clear he is.

“Who are you, Candace Williams?”

“Just some loon from across the pond.”

The corners of his mouth rise in amusement. “You’re maddening.”

I frown. “Oh no. That doesn’t sound good.”

“It isn’t. You’re not good for me. You know there’s a whole party full of people watching us right now. I’ve never kissed a girl in public. Now I have a hundred people staring as I pin you against the edge of my pool.”

“Well when you say it like that…”

I damn near shiver.

“I won’t kiss you,” he promises, his gaze on my mouth.

“It feels like you’re about to.”

He hitches me up higher on his hips so he’s got a proper hold on me. God, it’s perfect—how strong he feels between my legs, how hard he is right now even though we’re not technically doing anything, just touching each other, just absorbing each other through our pores.

His mouth nears again and my eyes flutter. It’s coming. Every fiber of my being knows Logan is about to kiss me and ruin me forever. I expect it. I want it.

Then…it doesn’t come, and I’m the one in pain now. Real pain. My chest is aching from it. I let out a little whimper, like some sad dog whose tail’s just been stepped on, then I lean into him, wrap my arms around his neck, and hug him as tightly as I can. It’s not a kiss. It’s not mouth to mouth, but it’s the closest I’ve been to him and it’s heaven all the same. He’s warm even now, like a heating lamp beneath my fingers. I can’t get a proper grip on him as he’s so much bigger than me, but I try. I let my head fall to the crook of his neck and my lips graze his skin.

He groans and gathers me close, tangling his hands in my hair.

“What are we doing?” I whisper, genuinely perplexed.

What. Are. We. Doing.

This isn’t normal.

Proper humans don’t act like this. I’ve been on plenty of dates in my day. Good ones. Bad ones. Long ones. Short ones. They’ve never consisted of stripteases in a pool followed up by playful banter that quickly devolves into a hug that makes me feel like the world will end when it ends.

“It’s just a hug, Candace.”

It sounds like he’s assuring himself as much as he’s assuring me.

“Oy! You two!” Kat shouts from across the pool. “Ever going to snog, or are you just going to do a bit of touchy-feely mumbo jumbo? We’re all getting a bit restless over here, waiting for the moment!”