Page 74 of Her Football Star Ex

And it made me want more.

“Emerson…” I whispered, stepping so my chest and torso pushed against her back as I spoke into her hair. But I didn’t really know what I wanted to say, because I knew I shouldn’t be asking what I wanted to ask.

She turned her face to the side so I could see her profile—she was peeking back at me from the corner of her eye. Like she was waiting for something. Waiting for me to decide what I was going to do next.

Was she feeling what I was feeling?

Was her whole body burning up with the same desire I had pulsing through my veins right now?

Her breathing did seem shallow. As if she was having just as hard a time as I was to keep her breathing steady.

I let my fingers slowly trace up her sides and then up and down her arms.

“I know you said you weren’t trying to seduce me,” I whispered into her soft hair. “But it’s just…” I sighed, not knowing how to continue.

“I know,” she whispered, her chest rising and falling. Then she turned to face me, her green eyes wide and hungry. “I wonder if this kind of thing ever goes away…”

She put her hands on my chest and let them slowly trail a path of fire along my torso, touching me in a way I hadn’t been touched in so long.

“I don’t think it does,” I breathed. Because if anything, the pull I had for her was even stronger than it had been before.

Iwantedher.

More than I wanted anything.

But I would let her decide what she wanted. I didn’t have a lot of self-control where she was concerned, but I did know that if anything was ever going to happen between Emerson and me, it would be because she wanted it.

Her hands stopped at the top button of my shirt. I watched her, waiting—my heart in my throat.

She was just staring at my chest, like she was thinking hard about something.

Deciding where we would go next.

Then she patted my chest lightly and lifted her eyes to meet mine again. “I should probably finish changing into my pajamas so we can watch that movie.”

“Okay.” I nodded slowly, hoping my disappointment didn’t show on my face. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

* * *

“I thoughtyou might want to change into something more comfortable, too,” Emerson’s voice came from behind where I sat on her couch, waiting for her to come back downstairs.

It had taken a long time for my heart to get back to normal after our interaction in her room but putting some space between us had cleared my head enough to know that we had made the right choice.

Jumping back into bed right now would be a mistake.

I turned to watch her approach and saw she wore a white tank top—her black bra barely showing through the thin material—and a pair of black yoga pants.

It was like she was trying to test my self-control all night because she looked amazing.

But that wasn’t the only thing I noticed. In her arms was my old football T-shirt from my time at the University of Alabama and my old gray sweats.

I furrowed my brow. “Where did those come from?”

“These were in the wash the day I packed everything of yours up.” Her cheeks turned pink. She handed me the clothes and I lifted the shirt to inspect it.

“I thought these got lost in the move somehow.” I looked at her. “What made you keep them?”

“I don’t know.” She sat on the arm of the couch next to me and shrugged. “I planned to give them to you later, but as time went on I decided to keep them instead. I guess I wanted something to remember you by.”

---