Page 100 of Caught Stealing

My gaze lifts to find Kason and Holden chatting over in the corner. Even from here, I can see a small mixture of sadness and longing in his eyes as he watches Holden speak, and it’s enough to have me slamming the rest of my drink on the spot.

Rising from the couch, I head into the kitchen for another. The beer is pretty much the only thing getting me through this shit in the first place, and with Kason here now, the alcohol is really fucking needed. I pop the cap off the bottle and take a long swig, but the icy liquid does nothing to temper the rush of anxiety running through me faster than a receiver toward the end zone.

An arm reaches under mine to grab the bottle opener I was just using, and I’m about to move out of the way when the scent of Holden’s cologne wafts over me.

“Excuse me, but I need this,” he says in a soft, seductive cadence that goes straight to my dick.

“Of course you do,” I say, feigning annoyance despite the smile I’m desperately trying to hide. One he must pick up on in my voice, because he steps in closer to me, his chest brushing against the back of my shoulder.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here,” I murmur, keeping my eyes locked straight ahead.

The hand that’s hidden from view of the living room traces a feather-light trail down my spine, and I fight my urge to lean into his touch.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

I laugh softly and shake my head before stepping out of his grip. The last thing we need is to get too into our little game of back and forth with half the football team here—Kason included.

Too bad for me Holden has no intentions of letting me slip away easily. His palm wraps around my wrist, and he drags me down the hall toward the back door, just out of sight from the rest of the group. He wastes no time backing me against the door either before his lips begin a slow, seductive descent down my throat.

“You’re just asking for us to get caught right now,” I murmur, even as I arch my neck toward him. “Is that what you want?”

“Stop being so tempting and I wouldn’t have to risk it.”

“Have some self-control, and it wouldn’t matter howtemptingI am,” I counter.

“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.” He pulls back, his brow lifting playfully. “But in case you need a reminder—”

“I’m good,” I say with a laugh. Lord knows I don’t need him doing something even more obscene—like dropping to his knees—here, where anyone could find us so he can prove his point.

“Thought so.”

He leans his forehead against mine, and I can’t help breathing him in. The scent of his cologne mixed with whatever body wash still lingers on his skin is just as potent as his presence. Intoxicating, which is why I understand what he means about being tempted.

But what just about brings me to my knees is when his nose brushes back and forth against mine in a way that simultaneously makes my stomach swirl with lust and my heart constrict with emotion.

“I’m glad you decided to come,” he says softly before pulling away. His whiskey eyes lift to meet my gaze, and I can’t quite place the emotion I see in them. “I know it’s not exactly what you were planning, but I hope you’re havingsomefun.”

Besides Kason’s unexpected presence and the constant bickering between Luca and Noah, it’s been fine. Truly. Don’t get me wrong, it’d be a bit better if it was for the World Series, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“I am, I guess.”

“Don’t sound so enthused.” He rolls his eyes. “I’d think with it being your hometown team, you’d be a little more invested than normal.”

“And I’d think with you being from California, you wouldn’t give two shits about who wins tonight.”

“Oh, I give no shits about who wins tonight, Nix.”

I blink at him. “Then why are we here?”

He cocks his head, staring at me like I’ve grown three heads. “It’s football.”

Oh, right. My bad.

I don’t have the chance to respond, because a commotion breaks out in the living room before Noah starts calling out at the top of his lungs for his teammate.

“Holden, where did you go? Hurry your ass up! It’s third and long, and New England only has time for one more play!”

Who knew watching football on TV required so much shouting? Or nervous pacing, from the way Noah and Luca were both bouncing and walking around the living room earlier like they’re the ones playing in the damn Super Bowl.