Page 76 of A Quarterback for Christmas

“Yes, I’ve been wearing them every day under my jeans.”

“And what about when you sleep? It’s more important to wear them then.”

“Uh-huh.” Truthfully, I haven’t worn those stupid socks to bed since the day she gave them to me. Drew tried to convince me I looked sexy in them, but there was something weird about watching a man eat you out while your circulation socks weredraped over his shoulders that didn’t work for me. It really brought me out of the moment at a time I really needed to be present.

After our first date watching a movie a town away, Drew held out on me. He told me it was because he wanted to take things slow, but I broke him pretty quickly. Only a few days after, I managed to get him into a healthy routine of sex at least twice a day, and I’ve never felt more invigorated, even if my foot can’t participate.

“Make sure you wear them, Bella,” she warns. “Your progress is slow, and if you ever want to make it back on the track team, you’ve got to compete with people who don’t have a heel as delicate as yours.”

“Sure thing,” I respond sarcastically, grabbing my water bottle and squeezing it hard. She doesn’t have to know that I’m pretending it’s her neck. My progress is slow because she won’t put the treadmill past three.

As if she can hear my thoughts, Caroline looks up from her clipboard sternly, but the aggression fades quickly when she looks at something behind me. A small, flirty smile spreads across her lips, and she waves.

“Woah, don’t tell me you’re interested in Edo now too?”

She breathes out a small laugh. “Not Edo. He’s not into girls, remember?”

I scrunch my brows, taking the opportunity to turn the treadmill up another point. It’s a little fast, but if I don’t keep increasing it, I won’t improve.

“Then who is it?” I glance over my shoulder, expecting to see one of the guys from the soccer team, but I nearly slip on my feet when I see who’s waving back.

Drew.

Of course. Of course, she’d be smiling at the guy I’m sleeping with. Who wouldn’t? He’s showing off his thighs of steel in thesetiny red shorts today, which ride so high it almost looks like he’s wearing speedos. My thighs wouldn’t fit in those things, but he looks perfect and zings of arousal spark through my core just from looking at him.

“Are you staring at Drew McCallister?”

Her response is just a long, drawn-out moan, and when I turn back, she’s somehow lowered the treadmill while still throwing Drew a stellar smile.

“Yeah, do you know him?”

Pfft. Do I know him? I know every single inch of his body. I’ve traced every muscle and line with my tongue, and it’s me he wants.Me.

Possession burns in my bones.

“He’s one of the reasons I requested the football team for my work assignment. He and, uh, Jacob Miller.”

That admission is all it takes.

One of my feet clambers in front of the other, and I trip over myself while the treadmill’s running. The only saving grace is that Caroline insisted I wear the red emergency button, which halts the already dismally slow machine. I still fall forward, squealing like a potbelly pig as I grab the screen in front of me.

Clutching onto the TV for dear life, my face smushes against the glass, and I wonder how many people’s fingers have touched this screen. A worse thought then pops into my head. How many of those people didn’t wash their hands after going to the bathroom?

“Oh my gosh. Are you okay?” Caroline asks, but I’m still too embarrassed to look.

“I’m good.” I don’t sound it, and I definitely don’t feel it. My leg hurts, and my ego is bruised. Caroline bends down and starts manipulating my foot. “Ow. You’re making it worse.”

“Everything okay here?” I shut my eyes, feeling my insides melt like butter and my cheeks flush. Drew saw the whole thingand probably knows he’s the reason for the misstep. He has no need to come to the gym on campus, but he told me he did in hopes of seeing me. I’m sure it was just a line, but it worked. I gave him head while he was working out on the arm press machine that day. The stuff we do at five a.m. in his gym would make an avid porn star blush, but I enjoy our little routine.

Caroline giggles at Drew, but I still haven’t looked up at the guy I’m too afraid to admit is my secret boyfriend. Sure, we’ve been dating for several weeks now and screwing for longer, but to call him my boyfriend out loud sounds too official, too real, and too much like something I should be mentioning to my dad.

“I think she’ll survive,” Caroline says, slapping me on the back with an almighty thump. Does she think she can use me as bait? “Me, on the other hand, I might need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation after seeing you in those shorts.”

Yup, she thinks I’m her wing woman, and a line like that will work on a guy like Drew. I know she’s a student, but isn’t there some kind of law stopping her from dating her clients or anyone that enters the gym, for that matter?

Drew chuckles low and sexy, and I can feel the bile in my stomach rumbling, ready to upchuck at any minute. I want to move off the screen and slap the shit out of my trainer to prove a point. Drew is mine.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. MINE.

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