Page 72 of False Start

“I tipped him for accommodating us. It’s fine.” The words should have been reassuring, but I clocked the smarmy smirk on his face. Trent was enjoying this. Enjoying how frazzled I felt and no doubt looked.

And I had no reason to feel frazzled. For all he knew, the kiss meant as little to him as I claimed it was to be. Sure,maybeI got a little hot under the collar.MaybeI’d kept myself awake thinking of it.MaybeI’d replayed the kiss a time or two. But Trent certainly didn’t suspect it.

The bus jostled, throwing me off balance. Trent wrapped his hand around my wrist, pulling me into his lap, and my humiliation was complete.

“Maybe if you didn’t man spread, I could fit on the bench,” I said, trying not to inhale. The combination of lemongrass and musk muddled my head, and I made bad decisions when I got too close to Trent.

“I’m not ‘man spreading.’” He slipped an arm around my waist and his knee pressed into my back. Not really holding me but cradling me. “This seat is right over the wheel well. I can’t put both feet down.”

That at least explained the cradling.

“So let me sit by the window and you sit on the edge.”

He shook his head. “And crush you into the corner? No way. This isn’t so bad.”

His fingertips tickled my side, and I squirmed. “This is awful.”

“It’s a comedy tour bus! It’s fun.”

“What even is a comedy tour bus? What does that mean?”

He shrugged. “I wonder if we’ll stop for a drink. We should have grabbed more roller meats on the road.”

“I can’t eat any more roller meats,” I groaned, my stomach turning at the thought. “I’m not even an athlete and I know that gas station food isn’t any good for you. What happened to that plan where you stopped making bad decisions to achieve NFL infamy and retired to a farm?”

“When I made that plan, I was solely discussing drinking and partying. Not roller meats. You leave my gas station food out of it.” Accentuating his point, he squeezed my side. I attempted to wriggle away but caught between the wide receiver and the seat in front of us, I didn’t have anywhere to go. “I’ll get you an actual meal before the end of the night. Room service if I have to. My treat.”

I doubted the no-star hotel serving as our nightly check-in had much in the way of room service, but my chest clenched just the same. “I can find my own food, thank you.”

“Yeah, but everything tastes better when someone else is paying for it.”

An insult about his groupies jumped to my lips, but I held it back, which was progress, however late in the game. “True. You don’tneedto buy me anything, though. Hell, I probably owe you for tagging along with me last minute.”

His face broke out in a beaming smile. The kind of smile that would make a willing woman melt. One that sort of made me melt. Just a little.

“You don’t owe me anything. I’m glad you let me come.” He winked, and I wished I wasn’t in his lap. Wished I had thought to reserve tickets earlier in the week so I hadn’t found myself cuddled up beside Trent, desperate to keep my calm demeanor even as my heart thumped in my chest.

“Don’t get me wrong. Derek would have been significantly better,” I said, my face breaking into an exasperated grin that undermined my words.

Trent’s mossy green eyes dipped to my lips and back again. His tongue wet his bottom lip. I sucked in a breath, both convinced and scared he’d kiss me.

“Welcome to Birmingham, y’all!” The man who’d taken Trent’s bribe stood up as the bus lurched into motion. I sat up as he hitched his fingers through his overalls.

Trent had been right about one thing. Even without man-spreading, there was barely enough room for one person on the bench. Slipping off his lap, I straddled his leg and inclined into the aisle.

“Lean back. I can’t see.” Trent drew his arms around me, pulling me back into his chest. He balanced his chin on my shoulder, his steady breath tickling my cheek.

I tried to mount all the pissed off energy I’d directed at him back home, but after three days in the car, I couldn’t dredge it back up. I couldn’t even work up some mild indignation. Instead, I only felt relaxation mixed with anticipation.

The bumbling country bumpkin act at the front of the bus didn’t prove enough of a distraction from Trent’s lips brushing over the shell of my ear.

“Stop that,” I mumbled, unsure if the errant kiss had been an accident or intentional.

“Stop what?” His lips brushed my earlobe.

Two weeks ago, hell, four days ago, this situation would have been unbelievable. But here I was, cuddled up to the cockiestplayer on the Norwalk Breakers, heart racing and palms sweaty. Not exactly my best look. And Trent definitely wasn’t my type.

Proximity. Forced into the same car. Of course I’d develop a small crush. I worked in a lab full of women and lived with Derek. Except for a cheeky nurse in the ICU, I hadn’t so much as flirted in years. And Trent was a flirt. A shameless flirt.

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