The Freshman (College Years 1) - Page 126

“As long as you leave Tony and I alone, it can remain our little secret,” I whisper with a pleasant smile. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“How am I supposed to trust you?” she asks, her voice full of doubt.

“I feel the same exact way about you.” She’s such a chicken. She’s never going to carry out her threat against Tony. I’m confident about that. “Be careful when you gossip in bathrooms. Someone might be in a stall and hear everything.”

I walk away from her with a flounce, approaching Tony, who watches me with a gleam in his eyes.

“We’re going to take off then so you can get to your party,” Anthony says to the both of us. Helena is sulking just behind him. “Have fun. Enjoy your night. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Tony calls as they turn and start to walk away. Helena glances over her shoulder, her gaze meeting mine, and I offer her a little wave.

She scowls and looks away, shifting closer to her husband as they leave the field.

“What exactly did you say to her?” Tony asks me.

My smile is mysterious. “Nothing much. Did you want to meet at the hotel later? After your party?”

“After? Uh, I don’t know if you realized it, but you’re going to the party with me,” he corrects.

“I thought it was just for the team.” I frown.

“You’re definitely invited. I can’t celebrate tonight’s win without you. Hell, my dad probably could’ve gone too, but I didn’t want Helena there. I kind of hate her.” Tony chuckles. “You know you want to go. They’ll have free food and booze.”

“Of course I’ll go. It sounds amazing,” I tell him, excited to celebrate their win. I rise up as he bends his head down, our lips meeting for a brief kiss. “Can’t wait.”

“Maybe I can stay in your room tonight?” he asks. The team has to share rooms when they travel for away games to cut down costs, and he’s rooming with Caleb. Diego and Eli are together, and Jackson is rooming with another teammate, I can’t remember his name.

I still can’t believe Jackson remained on the team. He’s been wined and dined by multiple record companies the last couple of months, but he hasn’t committed to any of them yet. He claims he’s not sure if it’s even something he wants to do. And he doesn’t want a bunch of executives in suits trying to stifle his creativity—a direct quote.

I get where he’s coming from, but everyone else thinks he’s crazy. They believe he should jump on the money and chase the fame.

“Are you allowed to stay in another room?” I ask Tony.

“I don’t know. I sort of don’t care. You’re staying at the same hotel, so what’s the big deal,” Tony says with a shrug. He glances around before he pulls me in for another too brief kiss. “I want to be with you later. Just the two of us.”

I’m not going to protest.

I want to be with him too.

“Oh my God,” I say with a moan, arching beneath him just before he rolls off of me and climbs off the bed. I lie in the middle of the mattress in an exhausted, barely breathing heap of satisfaction while Tony’s in the bathroom.

I stretch before tugging the comforter over me, and close my eyes. Life is good. Way too good. And I don’t even have that foreboding feeling like I used to have, when I worried that the rug was going to be pulled out from beneath my feet and all the good would turn to bad.

A lot of that is thanks to Tony.

Minutes later and he’s climbing back into bed, pulling me into his arms. I go willingly, settling my head against his chest where I can hear the steady beat of his heart. He gives me a squeeze and I run my hand back and forth across his ridged stomach, smiling when I feel his muscles contract beneath my fingertips.

“That was amazing,” I whisper. I didn’t expect us to have sex tonight, but I’m not complaining. I figured he’d be exhausted from the game, the excitement afterward from winning, the party that went on for hours. It’s so late, almost three in the morning, and I can barely keep my eyelids open.

I’m not the one who played an intense football game either.

“Yeah, it was,” he agrees. I lift my head, dropping a kiss on his firm jaw.

“You were a little unhinged,” I whisper. We’ve become more and more comfortable with each other sexually. As in, we’re getting a little more experimental.

It’s been fun.

He glances down at me, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. “You were the one smashing your pussy on my face.”

Tags: Monica Murphy College Years Romance
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