Page 17 of The Promise

“Hey, you ready to go? Coach is about done with us I think, just need to put this shit away.” Sean mutters, shaking out his sweaty curls and drenching his face in water.

I pull off my own helmet, gloves following. “Yeah, need a fucking nap or something, I'm dead from today.” Today, and the blonde who played my dick like a fiddle last night.

“Yeah, coach is working us like dogs right now,”

Nick lands with a thump against my back and I swat a hand towards his arrogant eyed smirk. “You babies done whining about today?” He sweeps a hand across his damp forehead, pouting his lips and putting on his baby voice. “Or do you both need a cuddle wuddle?” He stretches his arms out to us both, wrapping us in a disgusting, sweat soaked hug that neither of us wanted.

“Get off, you fucking simp.” I huff, slamming two hands against his chest and sending him slipping backwards on his skates before he catches himself with a triumphant grin. “And before either of you ask,” I point a finger between Nick and Sean. “I’m not coming out tonight.”

“What, not even to—?”

“No,” I jab a finger at Sean to shut him up. “Not even to Mac’s.” He groans, nudging a shoulder into Nick as they both judge me. “You know, I always knew he’d be like this when he met a girl he really liked.” “Yeah, me too,” Nick taunts, “knew he’d get all mushy and not want to hang out with his friends anymore.”

“His best friends,” Sean adds a forced pout to his dimpled face and I bark a laugh, rough hand scrubbing my face.

“Callie might fall for that face, but I most definitely won’t.” I plant my feet on solid ground, plodding towards the locker rooms. “Anyway, I don’t really like her, we’re just fucking. And maybe she’s kind of fun to be around too, in a—a…platonic way.”

Shit, am I stumbling over my words even thinking about her now? What the fuck is wrong with me?

Sean snickers behind me and I daren’t turn around and look at his smug face. “Yeah, sure sounds like it K-K-Kyle.” He teases and I flip him the double bird over my shoulder.

By the time I actually step foot into my house it’s almost 8pm and to say I'm tired would be an understatement. The thing is though, I don’t intend to try my luck with a danger nap right now, but the thought of doing anything but sinking my face straight into a pillow feels like a form of dragged out torture. So that’s exactly what I do, kick my shoes off and land straight on the sofa face first, my nose stuffed into a cushion that smells like Lewis’ cologne. I try so hard to fight the heavy threat of sleep, I swear I do, but without me even realising, it pulls me under.

When I wake up the living room is encased in darkness, the shadows of the trees outside dance across the laminate where the windows have been left uncovered by curtains. The guys must have gone out like they were planning to, obviously not wanting to wake me, which I appreciate, but I fucking wish they had. When I dig my palms into my eye sockets and sit up my body feels a little less achy than it did when I got home. I fish inside my pocket for my phone and swipe it open…10:45pm. Shit. A danger nap is exactly what I ended up having, which means I definitely won’t sleep tonight.

My sleep has been suffering lately, what with my mum being back on the drugs, my mind has been preoccupied almost 24 hours a day. Except for last night of course, where I slept like a fucking baby wrapped around Molly, her slender legs tangled in mine and her pineapple scented hair tickling my nostrils. God I want to see her again already. Maybe I should call her? No, I shouldn’t, that’s too needy right? Right.

I convince myself I should just go up to my room, start some of the studying I’ve been purposefully ignoring for a few days now and try to make the best of my free evening. I trudge up the stairs, eyes still a little blurry from sleep and swing open my bathroom door, dying to take a leak before hitting the mountain of study that awaits me.

Ping!

Shit. My phone slips out of my hand, bouncing off the edge of the toilet seat and clattering to the ground. Thank fuck it missed the toilet bowl full of piss below me. I yank my shorts up with a frustrated grunt, picking my phone up off the floor and reading the message that almost cost me a new phone.

Molly:

‘We fucking again tonight or what?’

It would have been worth wrecking my phone for a message like that. The smile that breaks onto my face is making me sweaty. I wash my hands, slapping my cheeks with icy water and ruffling my blonde tresses, before heading out of my bathroom and landing back on the bed. I tap the call button, pressing the phone to my ear and trying to squash down the uncontrollable smile that graces my face.

She answers on the second ring. “Oh, you’re so desperate to see me that you bless me with a booty call? How gentlemanly of you Davis,” She taunts and I bark my own laugh.

“You texted me Crawford and anyway,” I scratch my jaw even though she can’t see me. “You coming over or what?”

“You got a free house tonight?”

I nod. “Yeah, too right I have…so, you coming? Or should I come and get you? I don’t—I don’t know how this works.” My hand finds my jaw again, this time rubbing hard, the nerves sloshing in my stomach.

I hear Molly’s muffled laugh, like her hand is trying to push it back down her throat. “You can come and get me…or I can walk over there myself, it’s only a short wa—”

“No, you’re not walking here.” I stop her, there’s no fucking way she’s walking over here by herself in the dark, not on my watch. “I’m coming now, be ready in ten minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” She snickers, hanging up. I stumble down the stairs to the front door, clumsily shoving my feet into my shoes.

I definitely drive too fast, faster than I usually would, but my dick is already excited to see Molly again. He stands to attention the second she comes barreling out of the double doors of her dorm building. Her bright, but sultry smile causes an already pitched tent to appear in my shorts and I fight to tuck Lieutenant Davis into the waistband of my boxers. I scramble to hide his excitement as quickly as possible before she spots it and makes my cheeks red with embarrassment again.

“Hey,” she pants, climbing into my passenger seat and searing a tight kiss to my lips, her face lighting up like a moonbeam. “Shall we go?” “Somebody’s keen,” I murmur, putting the car into drive and peeling off the curb, the swell of my bottom lip still tingling.

“Well, yeah,” she chuckles heartily, “had fun riding that thing last night and looks like he’s excited to see me again.” She nods at my crotch and when I look down I almost die on the spot.

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