Page 29 of Catching Feelings

“Declan Anderson is a beaut, and he knows how to handle balls.”

“Jackson.” I smack his arm.

“You’re right. He’s too young for me. Besides, it’s absolutely cliché to pine after the quarterback. Darius Johnson has a biteable ass, and I’m sure hisJohnsonis—”

“He’s happily married.”

“Hey, can’t blame a guy for looking.” His face lights up and he waves his hand like a five-year-old spotting their parents in the crowd at a school play. “Hey, brother!”

It’s so cute how proud he is of Walker.

Walker comes over to the railing and raises his arm to give Jackson a fist pump.

“Is Riley still coming?”

“Nice to see you too, little Bankes.”

“Emmitt had a blow out right as she was strapping him in his car seat. She should be here soon,” I say.

“I wish she would have ridden with you guys. Stubborn woman.”

Miles claps Walker on the shoulder and looks up at Jackson, tipping his chin in greeting. “Hey, man. Good to see you too, Row, even if you’re wearing the wrong jersey.”

“Agreed. I thought it was my turn. You should be wearing number thirty-three.”

“Your turn?” Miles asks. “She’s never worn mine. Jackson, go get Row an eight-six to wear.”

“Now if you said a sixty-nine...”

“Jackson,” I gasp, pretending to be shocked. “Paisley wanted us to match so I promised her I’d wear her daddy’s jersey.”

“How do you think that’s going to make Emmitt feel?” Walker pouts.

“Since he’s only four months, I’m sure he’ll retaliate by spitting up on me.”

“That’s fair.”

“Bankes. Buck. This isn't a social hour. Get your asses back on the field,” one of the coaches calls from the sideline.

“See ya later, Row.” Miles taps my foot and jogs back out to the field.

“If he wasn’t such a goofball, I’d tap that ass as well.” Jackson’s eyes follow Miles out onto the field.

“You mean if you weren’t happily married.”

“You’re so vanilla. My husband would love to have a threesome, and you can’t deny the hotness factor in Miles Buckingham. With those long legs and long arms, he could wrap Taylor and me in a perfect Miles sandwich.”

Okay. I’m not gonna lie. The image of all those naked, tangled limbs is pretty damn hot. Not with Jackson and Taylor though. They’re too much like brothers to me.

But naked Miles? I’m absolutely on board. With shoulders so wide they need their own zip code, washboard abs that would have the women from the eighteenth century begging to wash their laundry down his torso, and full lips that not only curve in the most devilish manner, but also speaks the funniest, flirtiest, most hilarious words.

I don’t think I’d want to be in a threesome, but watching one? Hm. Yeah. I’ll be adding that to my dark fantasy. Especially if Miles is part of it.

My stomach flutters, and not the way it did a few minutes ago when I was checking out the holy grail of asses. Picturing Miles tangled up with other women has my insides feeling...off.

It must be because I think of him the same way I think of Jackson and Taylor.

“Aunty Rowan. We’re twins!” Paisley’s excitement has me spinning around, a smile on my face as I scoop her up into my arms.

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