Page 25 of A Quarterback for Christmas

“Honestly, Drew, I thought you barely noticed me at all,” she admits, and it’s the first time I believe her because I’ve always made sure to ignore her as much as possible.

“Believe me, I notice. The whole college notices when the coach’s hot daughter breathes, let alone when she openly hates someone.”

She glared at me in confusion, but I don’t bother feeding her ego anymore. Girl knows she’s hot. She doesn’t need her alleged ‘arch-nemesis’ admitting it too.

“If it’s not Sabrina, then is it Betty? I know you said you were on some throuple date at prom, but I thought that was just an excuse for a threesome for the night, considering you didn’t speak to either of them after.”

“How do you know I didn’t speak to them? You ran off to London the day after prom, and no one saw you until you turned up in Hope a year later with some off-colorBridgertonaccent that didn’t suit you. I’m glad that faded, by the way, because it was ridiculous.”

After cracking my knuckles a few times, I look at her, and she seems more embarrassed about that than she was lying naked in the bathtub.

“Travis dumped Betty after he caught her making out with someone else that morning. She didn’t want to walk in alone, so Sabrina asked me if I could escort them both.” I leave out that Sabrina asked because she just so happened to be the person Betty was making out with that morning.

Bella’s eyebrows lift, confusion marring her face. “Oh.” It’s a small, somewhat pathetic whimper, so I decide to take off my hat and waterproof pants while she digests that little tidbit. I know she thinks I’m a player, and I may not have helped that perception over the years, but I like proving her wrong now. There’s something so satisfying about watching a hot girl find out she’s wrong, especially when that hot girl is Bella Summers.

Snatching the pizza box, I lift it in her direction as I walk past. “Got you some food, since I figured you wouldn’t have the foresight or inclination to feed yourself while I was out. Pineapple and ham. That’s your favorite, right?”

Her hunger-laden eyes track the box, and I consider swirling it around just to watch her follow, but I don’t. She’s been through enough embarrassment for one day.

“How did you know I liked pineapple and ham?”

I snort, snapping my head up quickly. “How could I not know? Whenever we’d celebrate a win at your house, Coach always bitched about your weird fascination with those toppings.”

She mumbles something inaudible when I bring the pizza over and drop it next to her. I know it’s not a thank you, though, because Bella enjoys treating me like a butler, and for some stupid reason, I can’t stop myself from waiting on her hand and foot.

“Aren’t you going to have any?” she asks, picking at the pineapple and eating it. I take a seat on one of the armchairs and pull out my phone. Jacob has sent me a few messages, but I slide them off my screen because I assume he wants to talk about his ex, and I’m not in the mood.

“Nah, I prefer not to gag on my pizza.”

“But you only got one.”

“Yeah, the restaurant wasn’t technically open, but Mrs. Finnegan knows me, and when she saw me walking around the shopping complex in the snow, she offered to make me a pizza for home. I was kind enough to use it for you.” I leave out that Mrs. Finnegan made me three pizzas while I was there because that would make the gesture look less legit.

She continues picking at the food, hardly thankful, and I bite my cheek. Is she really going to ignore the giant elephant in the room? The elephant being my dick since it can’t stop getting hard at the mere sight of her gnawing her lip with her teeth.

“What’s wrong?” I ask because she won’t stop looking at me, and it’s disconcerting.

“Nothing.”

“It’s clearly something; otherwise, you wouldn’t have that pinched look on your face.”

“If you aren’t in love with Sabrina, then why aren’t you dating Brianna?” I push my lips out, hiding my smile because I never miss how she rolls Brianna’s name off her tongue like she’stasting acid. “It’s obvious that she’s into you. You’re always together. So why haven’t you put your class ring on her yet?”

This time, I let myself chuckle. She’s almost vibrating with curiosity. “Okay. You’ve definitely had too much liquid morphine. I wasn’t in love in high school.” Tipping my chin up, I think for a second. “Unless you count football. I was definitely in love with football.”

She growls. “And my father.”

I lift a shoulder and give her a sarcastic smile. “What can I say? He comes with the territory.”

“So, you weren’t in love with anyone in high school?” This girl is just like her dad, stubborn as a mule. I don’t know what the hell happened while I was away, but something’s got her transfixed on this idea. I shake my head to reaffirm my answer. “Because you don’t seem like the type to fall in love. That would involve a heart and thinking with something other than your dick.”

Just like that, she stabs me with a metaphorical dagger, and sadistically, I like it. Thankfully, her eyes are narrowed on my face because if she glanced at my crotch, her point might be proved correct. Typical Bella, too caught up in herself to notice anyone else around her. “Aww, Belly. Are you just sad because you didn’t get a sample?”

She puffs out a long, exasperated breath, ready for another sparring session. “Pfft. Please. Your cock is probably so diseased with the number of girls you’ve let sit on it. I’d catch something just from standing next to you. Besides, I’m not interested in testing out a micro-penis, thank you very much.”

“Got a lot of experience with micro dicks, B?”

She drops her gaze to my crotch, and dammit, I’m more than certain she’s noticed the bulge in my pants with the way her eyes widen. “Please. I already know you’re nothing to write home about.” The words linger because I know she doesn’t believethem. Her left eye narrows when she’s lying. “At least Jimmy could touch the sides.”

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