Page 30 of Changing the Play

I bite my lip to keep myself from smiling. “That’ll happen from time to time.”

“It shouldn’t. Youplayfootball, West. Why is this not infuriating to you?”

“It’s part of it. Sometimes you get the calls and sometimes you don’t.”

He blinks down at me. “You better turn on a movie or something. I’m tired of football right now.”

I hand him the TV remote, not at all concerned with picking a movie. I’ll watch whatever he wants. I’m just happy he’s not leaving yet. He puts on some comedy that I’ve never seen.

“Do you want to get under the blankets?” I ask. He turns to me in surprise. “I can even get you some sweats or something if you want to get more comfortable.”

“Sure,” he says, grinning. “That’d be awesome.”

He pauses the movie and I jump up, opening my dresser and handing him a pair of my sweats. He takes them before heading out of the room. I take the time to turn the blankets down while I’m waiting.

When he walks back in, my heart does a weird little flutter. He’s wearing my clothes. Why is that making my heart do crazy shit? It shouldn’t be.

I force myself to drag my eyes away from him and climb under the covers. Darcy wastes no time climbing in beside me and I hit play.

I’ve never seen this, but I’m not really paying it much attention. I’m far too focused on the warmth of Darcy beside me—his soft chuckles, and his loud belly laughs. I find myself closing my eyes so I can focus better on the sound of his breathing and the joyful sound of his laughter.

I’m so glad he didn’t want to leave after football. I can’t believe that it’s only been a few weeks, and I think Darcy may very well be the best friendI’ve ever had.

I’m warm.

Very warm. Almost too warm.

Something is pressed against me. I’m in the midway point between sleep and wake, my eyes still too tired to open, my body still too heavy from sleep to really be bothered by that.

There’s a noise and a gust of air against my throat.

My eyes fly open as my body rapidly comes online. I’m in my bed. With Darcy. Holy shit. We must have fallen asleep.

I glance down to see his dark mop of hair and not much else. His leg is hitched over my thighs, his arm tossed over my stomach, and his face tucked against my neck.

The gust of air was his breath. From his lips. His lips that are pressed against my throat.

My stomach does a violent flip.

This is fine. It’s really okay. I just need to figure out a way to get out from underneath him without waking him up. He shifts, and I freeze, even though I wasn’t really moving to begin with.

He wiggles against me, and my heart starts pounding when I feel something hot and hard press against my hip. Oh, holy shit, he’s hard. My throat goes dry. I force myself to take deep breaths.

It’s normal. Morning wood. Biology. I may suck at history, but I understand how the body works well enough. I fill my lungs slowly before blowing out the breath through pursed lips, repeating the process until I’m calmer.

Darcy shifts again, a soft, whimpery sound catching in his throat. If I was aware of him before, I’mhyperawarenow. The warmth of his body. His fingers flexing on the bare skin of my side. His lips pressed against my throat. A shiver rocks my body, my stomach swooping and my heart racing.

I try to force myself to relax, but my body is already betraying me, my cock hardening.

Fuck.

I have to move before he wakes up and realizes I’m hard. He’s going to freak out. Probably think I’m some sort of fucking creep and stop hanging out with me.

I start to untangle myself from him, and he moves, pressing his erection into my hip. I gasp, my own cock throbbing. This is so fucking inappropriate.

It’s normal, though. Only it’s not. Because, unlike Darcy, I’m not asleep. And I wasnothard when I woke up. Ihaveto get out of this bed.

I try again to scoot out from under him, and I make it a little further this time, managing to get one of my legs out from under his. He sighs and once again I’m frozen in place. I’d almost laugh if I wasn’t so worried it would wake him up and he’d never talk to me again. He presses impossibly closer, and his nose brushes along my throat. For a second, I forget how to breathe, and my heart feels like it’s trying to pound its way out of my chest.

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