Page 32 of A Quarterback for Christmas

As he stands, his gray sweatpants brush against my side, and I take in a sharp breath, not knowing why that move just gave me goosebumps.

I tuck an errant hair behind my ear, and look down at my fidgety hands. Looking at Drew feels a little too hard after his revelations. Without warning, his warm hand drops to my knee, just brushing the edge of his long football shorts. I am still wearing them because they are so roomy.

“Bella?” he says, low and husky, which finally forces my attention up. When our eyes connect, I think looking at him might have been a mistake because I don’t ever want to stop. He’s just so magnificently beautiful, and his dark eyes say so much without saying anything at all.

“Yeah?”

His body shifts as he leans in, and instinctively, I move back, but with all the sofa pillows behind me, I have nowhere to go.

He knows it, too.

He drops closer and just as I think he’s going to press his lips against mine, he diverts, leaving the gentlest of kisses on the corner of my lips, just as his hand squeezes my thigh.

“Good night.”

That’s it.

The cool air replaces his warm hand skating across my skin, and I’m left withering like wilted lettuce on his sofa.

He gets up without a second thought, or another glance, and strides down the hallway, leaving me a little wet and tainted at his antics.

Swallowing down the anxiousness, I shove my thighs together and manage to squeak out, “Goodnight, Drew,” before his form disappears into the darkness.

When I hear his door shut, I fall down onto the sofa, puffing out a breath and staring at the ceiling.

Does he know what he’s doing to me? He must. He’s teasing me because he knows he can.

Thousands of questions whirl through my mind but I don’t have the guts to ask him any of them.

So instead of confronting my demons and asking Drew what the hell is going on between us, I let them sit in the room with me, taunting me as I try to sleep while it’s still light out.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Chapter 9

Bella

I swallow because even though it’s four in the morning, there’s no way I can sleep. You’d think it had to do with Drew’s admissions yesterday and my mind constantly thinking about him, but to be honest, I ran out of steam on that topic earlier in the night. In fact, I think it fried my brain so much that I had to fall asleep.

I’m exhausted. My eyes are burning, my body is lax, and I can feel myself just mere seconds away from collapsing into a coma.

There’s just one thing stopping me.

Every time I close my eyes and I’m about to relax, loud, incessant guttural moans come from down the infamous hallway.

Nothing good ever came from down that hallway, and this morning is no different.

With every bang of the weight, my eyes grow a few millimeters wider, and my mouth parts just a little. Sweat prickles my forehead, and I can feel my ears turning pink because those noises are making something brew in my body, and it’s far from wholesome.

Grunt. Bang. Grunt. Bang. Grunt. Bang.

Drew’s working out, and it’s almost like he doesn’t want me to think about anything except him this morning. I’ve slept onthis couch for three days now. I’m used to Drew working out at this time, but today, it feels a little different because he’s been in there grunting and banging for over an hour. I can’t help but think he’s trying to forget everything by lifting heavy objects and dropping them with so much force that he might end up splitting the floorboards.

Another grunt, and this time, he adds a low, somewhat sexy growl.

I wonder if he’s just standing in there, flexing in the mirror and admiring his muscles. Either way, he’s loud. So, so loud.

So loud that the first grunt made me fall off the couch because I thought I was sleeping on the remote and accidently turned some porn on or something.

---