Page 40 of Totally Geeked

“I’m pretty sure there’s a law against that,” he says as Arlo opens his door.

“What are their laws about?” he asks, through a yawn that is too fucking adorable.

“Harry driving naked,” Gordon replies, and Arlo’s gaze immediately lands on me.

“Oh, Harry. Hi. Did you stay over?” he asks, totally natural like he didn’t just spend the night fucking owning my ass.

“Yeah, after I had that bath, my whole body was exhausted, so I just slept in the guest room. Hope my snoring didn’t bother you.”

“I didn’t hear you snore.”

Gordon frowns. “Actually I didn't hear you snore either.”

“Isn’t your room like all the way at the other end of this floor?” I reason.

“Yeah, but shit, I heard you three rooms down in Colorado last year.”

“Fuck off, did not.”

“Did, too.”

“I’m going to get changed,” Arlo says, waving in our direction and then closing his bedroom door behind him. I really want to close the door, too, and go and kiss him good morning, but Gordon is waving at me to follow him.

“Come on, let’s get you some clothes so we don’t have to bail you out later.”

“I probably have something in the truck I can wear,” I say as I follow him down the hall.

“It's cool, I’ve got a heap of training gear. Here,” he says, opening his dresser drawer and revealing it full of Animal Control stuff.

“Dude, where did you get all that?”

He shrugs. “I forgot to take my stuff for a while and kind of built up a collection.”

I pull out a pair of long blue training shorts and an orange shirt, but then I toss it at him when I see it has Gordon’s number and name on the back.

“I’m not your bitch, got anything without your name on it I can wear?”

“Ha, you would totally be my bitch if I swung that way.” He laughs and grabs a plain blue shirt from the drawer and throws it at me.

“Would not. You’re too high maintenance for me.”

“Seriously, I am not.”

“Ask anyone.”

“I changed my mind, go to training naked.”

“Nope, they’re my clothes now. See you there.” I laugh and jog out of his room. I duck into the guest room hoping to see Arlo, but the shower is running, and as much as I would totally get in with him and desperately need a shower myself after last night, I think it would be pushing our luck with Gordon both awake and waiting on him to go to the field. I dress, grab my phone and keys from the nightstand and head downstairs.

“Bye,” I call, closing the front door and heading to my truck. I could go with them, but then I would have to come back here for my truck anyway.

***

I get railed twice by the coach for not paying attention while warming up. It’s not my fault Arlo’s in the stands looking cute as shit with a pencil behind one ear and another pressed between his lips as he sketches.

Gordon jogs over as I climb to my feet. If my legs aren't stretched out by now, they’ll never be.

“I’ll toss you a few,” Gordon says, throwing my glove at me and nodding for me to get into place. I kick at the dirt, forcing my hand into the glove, then crouch down, glancing over my shoulder where Arlo’s sitting. Before I can turn back, a ball sails past my head.

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