Page 11 of Little Do You Know

Sebastian

I DON’T KNOW why I let her get to me. There is no logical reason for Thalia being able to get under my skin the way she does. I do think she is going to be the death of me.

I thought I was awake before everyone else this morning, but instead, I found Thalia in the kitchen wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt that wasn’t quite big enough to cover her red lace panties. It left very little to the imagination as she danced to the music from her headphones while working on her laptop.

Her long legs caught my attention, and I stared far longer than I should have. I couldn’t help it. It was early enough that I couldn’t immediately curb my intrusive thoughts of how they would feel wrapped around my waist, or how it would feel to push them apart as I bring her to the brink over and over again until little Lia was begging for release.

As soon as I have these thoughts, I start to feel guilty because she’s Owen’s sister. My dick hasn’t gotten that message yet. Thalia’s always been my weakness.

I didn’t know if I should say anything because whenever I open my mouth around Thalia, I end up fighting with her. Part of that is self-preservation because Thalia’s words hurt differently than others. I think it’s because she means them, and I care what she thinks, regardless of whether or not I should.

So instead, I said nothing. I walked straight past her, keeping my eyes locked on the front door because I don’t have time for a distraction. That’s all Thalia is: a distraction.

Life is a game to her.

She doesn’t need school. Thalia does it to appease her parents, as she’s made so evident in the past. National magazines were using her photographs despite how young she was. She doesn’t need any of this. I’m surprised she came back at all.

I don’t need the degree if I’m honest, but I want one to fall back on. Football is unreliable enough to dream for an entire career. One bad injury, and I’m done. I need to use all of my college eligibility before I declare for the draft.

But Thalia is a distraction I need to get out of my head. Owen did me no favors when he asked if she could live with us. What was I supposed to say? No?

I refocus on the turf beneath my feet, and the humidity is already causing beads of sweat to drip down my neck, soaking the shirt I’m wearing under all my gear. Fuck, I should have gone somewhere cold for school.

“Ready, set, hut!” My hands are ready for the snap, and I immediately shift a few steps back. I scan the field for Owen, who I know should be far enough down by now. Pulling my arm back, I’m ready to release for a long pass when I’m knocked to the ground by a brutal sack I never saw coming.

I can feel my bones rattle inside my body, regardless of the protective gear I’m wearing. I know this one is going to leave a hell of a bruise. This is partially my fault because I should have seen him get past our offensive line. They should have been covering me. This is supposed to be fucking practice, so I didn’t think a hit today would knock me flat on my ass.

“Adams, what the hell do you think you’re doing hitting him that hard in practice?” Coach yells from the sideline as I push myself off the ground.

“Coach, I—” Cody tries to defend himself, and I pull my helmet off to catch my breath, feeling a warm breeze across my face.

“It was my fault,” I yell back. “I took too long making the pass. If he can do it to me, he can do it to the other team.” I say matter of factly, and Cody looks at me gratefully.

Coach stares at me for a hard minute before shaking his head. “Get it together, Walker. We need you on point this weekend.”

I nod in acknowledgment, putting my helmet back on. By the lingering ache, something will bruise, but at least I didn’t land on my shoulder. That would be a fucking disaster for any shot I have of going pro, and at the risk of sounding like Owen…I have a pretty good one. If this season goes how we all want it to, I have a hell of a shot at being a first-round draft pick.

“Let’s go again, same play! Try not to let our QB get killed this time!” Coach yells, his booming voice echoing over the field.

I lock my focus in, not allowing any thoughts of Thalia to creep past the wall I’ve put up. Coach is right. I need to be on point this weekend.

On the way to the locker room, Cody grabs my shoulder to get my attention. “You know I didn’t mean to hit you that hard, right?”

I crack an easy smile at him. “I almost wish you’d hit me harder. Do that to the other side in our game, and all’s forgiven.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, and I end up at my locker next to Owen’s. I’m ready to shower and take an ice bath in the athletic training room. I despise how cold those fuckers are, but they do help with the soreness.

“You okay?” Owen asks, casting a side glance at me, and I nod.

“Fine. I’ve taken worse hits.”

“You usually don’t get hit, especially in practice. What happened?”

Your sister not wearing pants happened. I ignore him, peeling off my drenched shirt to toss it in my locker. “I wasn’t paying attention. I’m fine, dude.” It’s not convincing enough, but Owen knows better than to press me. “You picked your piece of shit up earlier, right?”

“If you’re referring to my beautiful truck, I did. She’s not a piece of shit,” he defends hotly, grabbing the towel off his hook.

“I hope she doesn’t break down on the side of the road again.”

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