Page 46 of A Quarterback for Christmas

“Bella,” I grumble. “Are you insane?” She’s standing outside on my porch in the same pair of basketball shorts and shirt from last night. Only now, her nipples are very much poking out from the cold. “It’s minus four degrees, and you’re not wearing clothes.”

I rip my jacket off when I get to her and look around the block. There’s still a dusky hue in the air, and most people are sleeping, so I highly doubt anyone else just got the eyeful of Bella I did.

“I could say the same thing about you,” she replies curtly, barely acknowledging me as I lift her back into the house. “You look like you’re dressed for a run in a heatwave.” She looks down at my matching basketball shorts, leggings, and shirt and raises a disapproving brow. “What the hell were you doing out there at five a.m.?! You could have been eaten by a black bear or something.”

“Aw, were you worried about me, Belly?”

She’s so flustered she hasn’t noticed that I’ve walked her back into the house, straight through the living room, and into my bedroom. “I’ve already told you. Don’t call me Belly,” she warns, as though her words can hurt me. “Wait, what are you doing?” Then it finally sinks in. I ignore her question, kick open the bathroom door, and set her on the countertop.

Noticing the red, painful welts across her arms, I sit on the edge of my bathtub, turn on the hot water, and fill it with those bubbles she seemed to like last time.

“Drew,” she whines.

I finally throw her a look over my shoulder, and yeah, those blue lips tell me she’s definitely still cold. “You must be freezing.” I drop my gaze to her very erect nipples, but she is so annoyed with me that the implication goes over her head. “I’m guessing you’ve got nothing under those shorts, either.”

Thankfully, I’m still cold, so there’s less blood rushing to my dick than there would be at the sight of her nipples and slightly parted legs. Steam fills the room, and I can feel my muscles relaxing, which can only mean one thing: I need to get her in this bath and leave before an awkwardly painful boner comes out to play.

The bath is taking too long, so I use the time to walk past her and grab the largest, thickest shirt from my dresser. I drop it on her lap before checking the bath temperature. “Is this for me?” she asks, leaning against the foggy mirror.

I try my best to look at anything but her nipples poking through that stupidly thin top, but it’s no use. They’re there, calling out to me, and I can’t help myself. I still can’t believe she was standing outside in the snow with just that on.

“Of course it is. Your father would have a heart attack if he found out I let you walk outside and freeze to death,” I lie. It’s never just been about getting in trouble with her father; it’s because I liked the idea of her living longer than today.

She places my clean shirt next to her and looks at me with wide blue eyes. “You want me to go in there?” She tips her chin to the now-filled tub, and I nod. Then, she wets her lips and says, “I’m not going in there unless you come with me.”

Silence.

That’s all there is between us while I replay her words and try to comprehend what the heck she just said. I blink a few times before trying to answer her, but I can’t get anything out except an almighty dumb sounding, “What?”

This is all a dream, right? I must have collapsed in the snow earlier, and my brain is living out my fantasies before I slowly freeze to death. She’s still looking at me like that’s a perfectly reasonable request and she scoots forward, ready to hop off the vanity.

My protective instincts come out, and I rush to her. They always do when I’m around Bella, especially since she has a history of being way less graceful than a koala. When I place my hands against her hips, she delicately touches my arm and digs her fingers into my biceps. “You were outside running for an hour, Drew. You’re barely wearing anything, and your skin is blue. You feel like an ice block.”

Heat radiates from where her thumb rubs against my shoulder, and I shake my head. “No. I’ll take a shower after you.” As much as my sixteen-year-old self is kicking me in the crotch for this, I can’t say yes. I straighten my shoulders, and my body feels more tense than usual. I’m firm on my decision, but when she strokes her hand up and down my arm, the words feel a little less convincing.

“Please come in the bath with me.” There’s a hand squeeze, and I close my eyes. Why is she hellbent on torturing me? “I’ll need your help again getting in and out with this boot on, anyway. It might just be easier for us if you’re in there with me from the start.”

I guess she has a point, but I have no idea how we ended up here. We were down each other’s throats only a few days ago, to potentially taking a bath together after kissing in the laundry room. It’s too much for this pea-brained athlete, and I can’t think straight.

I grab the towel on the side and turn around to offer it to her. Bella looks down at the black fabric and gives me a small, comforting smile. “Thanks,” she mumbles.

“No problem.”

I guide her to the bathtub and help her perch against the side before checking the temperature. “Seems to be just about right for you. Scorching hot.”

“Do you think I like it hot?” All I hear when she speaks are innuendos, and I shake my hand dry with a gulp. “Or is it because you think I’m the devil?”

“Uh, no. I.” She’s making me flustered, a characteristic that’s only ever come out with her, but then she grabs my cheeks with both hands and forces me to face her.

“Relax, Drew. I was joking.” Her sympathetic eyes and soft smile are new to me. Strangely, I like it. I like her. Always have.

Staring at me with parted lips, she shucks her shorts off and watches my expression. I can’t turn away, and it’s not because I want a show. It’s because I know she’ll probably do something stupid like fall in the tub and drown if I’m not watching. I can see her fingers toying with the edges of her shirt in my periphery, and her lips lift on one side in a challenge.

Then she does it.

She lifts her top over her head and throws it in the corner before pushing her shoulders back and staring at me. I think my brain is short-circuiting because Bella is sitting on top of the bathtub in nothing but a little black, lacy thong. At least, I think it’s a thong. I only let my eyes venture down that path for the split-second her shirt covered her face. I immediately snapped them back to her eyes; they haven’t moved since.

“You okay, Drew?” she asks, completely unbothered by her lack of clothing. I’ve always thought of Bella as a ballsy and confident girl when she wanted something, but I never really quite understood how it would feel to be on the receiving end of it.

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