Page 65 of Blitz'd

“Fuck off, Braithe.” I mutter it… and then, like I can’t help myself, I add. “Leave your door unlocked?”

Zander doesn’t hesitate.

“Sure.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

I hang up before he gets a chance to question me and head to my apartment. I’m not showering in some tiny dorm shower, and I’m thankful that Asher is out on some trip for his class still when I head inside. I’m in and out in a flash, though, because I wouldn’t put it past my parents to show up here once they realize I’m not coming out of the locker room with the rest of my team.

Sure enough, my phone rings again, and then I get a text.

Mom: Kerian, your father is very disappointed in you for leaving like that. We’re coming over to discuss this and the future your father has planned.

Not my future.

His.

I know what he wants.

I throw clothes into a duffle bag without paying attention to what I’m grabbing and head back to my car, thankful that they aren’t waiting in the lobby of the apartment building to ambush me.

I drive over the speed limit to get to my destination, and I shoot Zander a text that I’m there before I head up.

His security guard really is shit—the asshole has his nose buried in a magazine, and he doesn’t even look up when I pass by him to head upstairs.

And Zander doesn’t wait for me to knock before he opens the door.

“Hey.” His voice is… soft. When I won the game, I’d imagined coming over here and he’d be in nothing but that red lingerie when he answered the door. His skin would be flushed, and he’d be awkward and horny and I’d put him on his knees and make him suck my dick and tell me what a fucking god I was at the game.

Instead… he’s in a baggy shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, and he’s quiet when he shuts the door behind me and takes my duffle bag from me. He tosses it on the ground and steps into me.

It’s easy to open my arms and twist his body so his shoulders are pressed against the door—easier still to kiss him hard and mean, biting his lower lip until he opens his mouth and lets me inside.

What isn’t easy is when he spills his fingers through my hair and pulls me away.

“Kerian?” He cuts himself off at whatever expression crosses my features from the question in his tone, but that doesn’t stop him from yanking me across the room toward his tiny-ass bed.

“You’re not dressed to impress, Dimples.” I say it with the same snark I always have, but the words feel a little hollow… Maybe that’s because he takes the time to drag my shirt up and over my head before he pushes me onto the bed.

Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t even bother trying to hide what he’s doing when he crawls on top of me and curls his broad body against mine.

The weight of him… the pressure… there’s something soothing about it. Zander leans forward and presses his lips to my neck, then lifts up and starts carding his fingers through my hair.

“You were amazing.” There’s nothingsexyabout his voice. But the sensation of his blunt nails dragging along my scalp is. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you the whole game. I’m lucky Luca wasn’t here. He would have gotten sick of me cheering.”

“Yeah?” I ask, and he nods.

“Yeah.” Zander drops down and presses a kiss to my throat again, trailing his lips over my pulse. It jumps under his touch, and I wonder if he noticed.

Fuck, he probably noticed.

I need to roll him underneath me, to tell him he owes me exactly what he promised. I look up at him and his expression is soft.

Sweet.

Concerned when he trails his fingers through my still damp hair again… and I suddenly realize howexhaustedI am.

“Hey, Dimples?”

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