Page 76 of Her Football Star Ex

Just looking at him right now seemed almost forbidden because of how it made me feel.

I gulped and turned back to the stove where I was popping popcorn.

Was I even strong enough to sit through a movie with him looking like that right next to me? I had a hard enough time not throwing myself in his arms when we were upstairs in my bedroom.

I drew in a deep breath, hoping it would help me remember my self-restraint. “Do you want the ranch popcorn seasoning on your popcorn?”

“Sure,” he said, coming to stand beside me, leaning against the counter. “Want me to get a bowl?”

“Oh, yeah. That would be helpful,” I said, not realizing until that moment that I had forgotten to grab one.

He went to the cupboard where we kept them and opened it. And when he reached up to grab the stainless steel bowl, the bottom of his shirt lifted just enough to show his toned torso.

I bit my lip as I watched him.

Was he trying to tempt me right now?

Because if so, it was totally working.

“Here you go,” he said, coming back and setting the bowl on the counter beside me.

“Thanks,” I said, stirring the handle of the stovetop popcorn popper.

“Want me to cue the movie to the beginning?” he asked.

“That would be great,” I breathed, hoping he wouldn’t notice how much his presence was affecting me.

Because the faster it was ready, the sooner I would be distracted by the movie instead of the hottie I was watching it with.

Yes, Vincent was a babe.

Stop thinking about it, Emerson.

The more I reminded myself of that fact, the harder it would be to not think of all the reasons why we should skip the movie and do something else.

Because doing something else would be a mistake.

Wouldn’t it?

If only my hormones would just agree with my brain right now.

I finished with the popcorn and went back to the living room where Vincent was already sitting in one corner of the couch, the movie paused at the opening scene.

So I switched off the main lights, and since sharing a bowl of popcorn meant you had to sit by the other person, I took the couch cushion next to him.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded and handed him the popcorn bowl. “Ready.”

He pressed the Play button, and within a few seconds, the movie started. As the screen panned over an old Victorian house where we saw a housekeeper setting up a dinner party, I told myself to relax. I’d watched hundreds of movies with Vincent before. This didn’t need to be a big deal.

We were just two old friends hanging out on a Friday night. Nothing needed to happen.

I wouldn’t even think about kissing him.

Nope, I definitely wouldn’t think about kissing those beautiful, perfect lips of his that had a way of making me lose all track of time and space and reason.

And if he tried to kiss me—which he probably wouldn’t since he had a date with another woman tomorrow—I would remind him of that fact.

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