The Trouble With Quarterbacks

“What?” Her blue eyes widen in alarm. “Yes! Of course.”

She looks panicky, like she’s trying to figure out some way to bolt.

I bend down and kiss her cheek, gathering her close. “Are you still mad at me?” I ask again, this time quietly against the shell of her ear.

“I suppose…yes…”

Her voice has turned soft and less convincing.

I move lower, letting my mouth fall to the sensitive skin at the base of her neck, right beside the thin strap holding up her dress. Then I kiss her there before repeating my question.

“I… Maybe we could talk it over…” she answers.

“I don’t feel like talking.”

We have ten minutes, and I haven’t touched her in a week. I’m going crazy. Pretty soon I’ll be ordering her personalized doormats and calling her Pookie.

Her hands slide up over my arms and she grips my shoulders. “I suppose I could find it in my heart to forgive you,” she says, her gaze heavy on my lips.

She wants me to kiss her.

I think she’s dying for it as much as I am.

“And you’ll consider moving in with me,” I add, lowering my head.

“Maybe,” she says, pressing up on her tiptoes to kiss me before I can kiss her.

She doesn’t kiss like she’s still harboring any ill will toward me. She kisses me hard and presses her small body up against mine like she wants to fuse us together. I gather her dress in my hands and let it slide up around her waist so I have better access to her body. My hands drift down, over her butt, and I squeeze. She lets out a little squeal, and I smile against her lips.

We don’t waste any time. Our mouths go right back together, and I deepen the kiss, demanding she let me sweep my tongue against hers. She rubs her body against me, and I’m hard. Of course I’m hard. I’ve been desperate for her all week, and now here she is, pliant in my hands, ripe for the taking.

She groans impatiently then quickly shoves away from me, breaking the kiss.

She presses the back of her hand up to her mouth and looks at me with a wild, unreadable expression.

“I absolutely cannot stay for dinner.”

I frown. “What?”

“Yeah. I just can’t. I can’t sit across from you at the table for an hour and pretend I’m not imagining you totally naked, on top of me. And worse! I’ll have to listen to those two drone on.” She points to the door. “Take me back to your place so we can have proper sex.”

“We can’t just leave.”

I say it just so it gets said, though I don’t really mean it. I want to leave as much as she does.

“Like hell we can’t. C’mon, let’s go. Either you take me to your flat or we’re having sex on Jay’s sofa while they listen, and if I were him, I know which one I’d prefer.”

Then she scurries over, yanks my hand, and starts to drag me back into the hall. She’s pretty strong when she puts her mind to it.

“Hey, listen gang,” she says once we’re back in the kitchen. “Something’s come up and we’ve got to go actually.”

“Are you serious?! We cooked all this food,” Kat protests, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Yes, sorry about that. Logan’s got the runs. He didn’t want me telling everybody, but well, there you have it. Don’t want him soiling his knickers at the dinner table, now do we? We’ll just take a few of these rolls for the road—they smell great. Good job, both of you. Jay, lovely place you have here. Love all the pink. We’ll be seeing you soon!”

“You’re lying!” Kat shouts as we hurry to leave.

“Am not! Logan will shove down his trousers and show you if you insist!”

Jesus. This girl will be the end of me.

“Quick, grab my purse there, Logan,” Candace says before forcing us to take off toward the door. She can’t get it herself because her arms are overloaded with rolls. “Bye now!” she shouts to them. “See you both soon!”

We don’t stop even once we’re out the door. We’re both laughing, and it only gets worse when Candace points down to the doormat. Sure enough, it reads “Welcome to Kat and Jay’s love nest!”

It sends her over the edge, laughing so hard she has tears in her eyes. I watch her, totally enamored, wondering what I did before she came into my life. Was I even alive?

I kiss her there in the hall, squashing her up against the wall so the rolls flatten out between us. She moans that they’re ruined, but I don’t care. I have to kiss her. I have to tell her I love her. Here in this hallway.

She blinks up at me totally stunned after I say it.

“What have you just said?!” She sounds a little hysterical.