Page 23 of Game Face

“I know. They made it look like something, but I know.” He clicks his screen and pulls up the app, opening the search box where I see he’s searched for my and Bryce’s names a few times already. My stomach churns.

“Why were you looking for us?” I ask as I stare at the first photo that comes up. It’s blurry, as if it’s one of those sketchyTMZshots. Worse, it was taken by some drunk student who wanted to perpetuate whatever rumors were fueled from the football press conference days ago. The angle makes it look like Whiskey and Tasha aren’t in the picture, though they were mere feet behind us on our way out of the club. Bryce’s hand is on my back, and I admit it gives off flirty couple vibes, but he was simply getting me out of the crowded bar without causing a bigger scene.

“Bryce told me about it. Of course, I had to see it for myself. Stupid, I know. But?—”

“And why did Bryce tell you about it?” My eyes squint at the image for another second before I click the screen off and toss Wyatt’s phone to the side of the bed. I shift in his arms, moving so my legs wrap around his waist and my hands hook behind his neck. He looks exhausted—his cheeks and the tip of his nose red from the sun.

He grimaces at me, and the longer he stares at me without speaking, the tighter my chest gets.

“Did he say it to be mean? To flaunt it?” Fucking Bryce, after that grand speech he gave me today.

Wyatt’s shoulders rise, and the corners of his mouth pinch tighter.

“Wyatt?” I tilt my head. “Did you guys get into a fight?”

His eyes squint. I shift my hands around to his cheeks and bring his forehead to mine.

“I maybe didn’t react so great to the splitting time at QB talk with Coach,” he admits.

“Oh,” I murmur. I close my eyes and roll my head against his.

“Was it in front of Coach?”Please say it wasn’t.

“No, I’m smarter than that.”

“Are you?” I tease.

He breathes out a soft laugh.

“Periodically.”

I lean back, my hands still caressing the sides of his head as I stare into his dark blue eyes. God, the way this man can look like a storm all on his own. Dark hair, heavy brows, stubbled beard, and the ocean in his eyes.

“We kind of worked it out. Well, I mean as much as you can work out shitty things like competing for something you love.” His eyes flicker, then settle on mine. I bite my bottom lip, and he does the same.

“I hope you don’t mean me. Because there’s no competition there. Ever.” I run my hand through the side of his hair, and he leans into my palm, turning to press his mouth on my wrist.

“I let it all boil over inside. I feel like I’m being replaced out there,” he confesses. “And it’s turning me into something I don’t want to be.

I nod and utter, “I know.”

“I don’t want to be a man like that. Someone you wouldn’t want because he’s jealous and angry all the time.”

“And you won’t be. Ever.” I believe every word to my soul. Wyatt is built differently. I wish I knew his dad because from all I’ve learned about him, he’s so much like his father.

“Do you want to own me, Wyatt Stone?” I bring his forehead back to mine, his bottom lip out enough for me to nip at with my teeth. He nods against me and lets out a ragged breath.

“Then do it. Right now.” I pull back and hold my arms up over my head. He pulls his Arizona sweatshirt from my body; the only other thing I’m wearing is a tiny pair of white sleep shorts. In one smooth movement, he sweeps his right arm behind me and pulls my body to him, his mouth covering one of my breasts, sucking my nipple into a hard, raw peak that he catches between his teeth.

“More of that,” I rasp, and he moves both hands to my back, pulling me into him harder, his mouth moving to the other breast and torturing it just the same.

“I fucking love you. You’re everything to me. You, it’s just you, Peyton,” he says, scooting back and sitting up on his knees, lifting me with him, his mouth never leaving my breast.

Wyatt lays me on my back and continues to drop kisses down the center of my body, pausing at my belly button as he works my shorts over my hips. I kick them away, lying beneath him completely naked, my skin shivering from the apartment air and the ceiling fan above. Every part of me that chills, Wyatt quickly warms with his mouth, tasting my ribs and then my breasts again as he slips his hand between my legs.

I reach to touch him, the tip of his cock peeking out of his sweatpants, but he moves my hand away, holding it to the bed as he moves above me and shakes his head.

“Tonight, it’s nothing but me serving you. I want you to come so many times that you fall asleep dreaming about it and wake up to me making you come again.” He drops his mouth to my pussy and suckles my clit.

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