Page 15 of Playmaker

“A friendship that isextremelyspecial to me,” I clarify.

She smiles softly, and damn if it doesn’t make my heart skip a beat. “I miss the old version of you too. The nerdy boy with glasses and braces who could never stop showing me his Pokémon card collection. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you, too, and I appreciate your apology, Cam. It means the world to me. I—what? Why do you have that look on your face?”

“Because you called meCam. Does that mean we’re on a nickname basis now? You’re agreeing to the truce?”

She opens a drawer and pulls out a set of oven mitts. “The pizza should be done in a few minutes if you want some, and if you wish to be on a nickname basis again, I’ll agree to that. Thetruce, however . . .”

I step behind her to grab either side of the counter, caging her back against my chest. Vanilla and honey floods my senses anddamnI didn’t realize how much the scent of her is like a drug to me.

The way her body relaxes against my chest almost makes me groan in pleasure. We’re standing too close. I need to step back, but now that I’ve got her in this position, it’s useless to try to escape.

I dip my mouth down to her ear and whisper, “You already gave me my answer about the truce, Mads.”

She twists her head to the side to meet my stare, and our lips are mere inches apart. If I leaned down just a fraction, I’d finally kiss her.

Temptation has never been so unfair.

“What makes you think that?” she asks.

“Because I know you, and you wouldnevershare your pizza with someone you don’t consider a friend.”

Her laugh, which is so foreign yet also familiar, tugs at my heartstrings with enough force to bring me to my knees. It’s a song I thought I forgot the lyrics to, but her laugh seems to be a tune I’ve subconsciously stored in the files of my memory, hoping one day I’d eventually get to dust it off again.

I was right.

“You’re right about the pizza,” she admits. “But to gain my friendship back you’re going to have to put in a lot of work.”

I chuckle against her skin. “Are you playing hard to get?”

“Maybe. Is that going to be a problem?” She steps back to check on the pizza, but when she does, her ass brushes against the front of my sweatpants. I’m fully hard from being this close to her, and when she feels my cock prodding against her ass, she makes no effort to move. Her body stills, and her breathing becomes erratic. My knuckles grow white on either side of her, and my hands are gripping the granite with so much force that I’m afraid it might crack at any given second.

This would be all too easy. Ethan is upstairs sleeping, and their parents don’t get back from their trip for another two days. All I’d have to do is hike this skirt up around her waist, bend her over the counter, and then I would rail her so hard that we’d rattle the dishes in the sink.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The grandfather clock in the next room waits for either of us to make a choice, but we don’t move a muscle. Whatever decision we make next will determine our future, and I don’t know if we’re ready for that.

Thankfully, an outside factor chooses for us. The oven dings, and we shoot apart before we do something we won’t be able to come back from. Maddie’s cheeks are flushed, and the rise and fall of her chest seems to be at the same rhythmic pace as mine.

Becoming friends again is going to be difficult if we keep finding ourselves in predicaments like these, but the hope is that this feeling of lust will fade if we rekindle our friendship.

Even thinking that sounds insane, but it’s worth a shot.

Maddie slides on the oven mitts and grabs the pizza before she asks, “Still want to have a truce?”

I keep my eyes trained on hers while she cuts the pie with lethal precision. “Now more than ever,Mads. Pass me a plate.”

Eight

Maddie

Last night felt like a lucid dream.

There’s no way Cameron apologized, suggested a truce so we could become friends again,andhad his hard cock pressed against my ass all in the same night. How can he think becoming friends is something we’ll ever be able to maintain? When I backed into his thick length while he had me caged against the island, it confirmed my suspicions about his feelings for me. Well, maybe notfeelings. I’m almost certain Cameron doesn’t know what genuine feelings are. The man is a certified player through and through, but one thing I did become keenly aware of last night? The attraction is mutual, and that’s a danger in itself.

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