Page 58 of Faking It with the Forward

The image of that soaking wet shirt clinging to her body comes back to me and yep, even in massive pain my dick is ready to go.

I lean against the door and try to look cool, not like I’m barely able to stand without support. “Decide to get a new job so we can be seen together?”

“File this under professional capacity,” she says, using the same wording as earlier today. “I came by to check on your bruise.”

Her eyes aren’t anywhere near where I clutch the ice pack over my ribs. They’re hovering somewhere just above the waistband of my sweats.

“I didn’t know the training staff made house calls.” I step back, giving her room to walk in.

“We don’t,” she admits, and there’s a flicker of something in her eye. She’s worried about me.

Huh.

Handing me the pizza, the edge knocks into my side and I release a grunt.

“Oh, shit,” her eyebrows furrow, “sorry.”

“It’s fine, Sunshine.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sit down and let me check it out.”

I ease down on the couch, and when I move the ice pack, she winces at the discolored flesh.

“Looks worse than it feels,” I promise.

“Then it must feel like you got rammed by an elephant.”

She’s not wrong. “It’s part of the game. A little food, a lot of beer, some meds, and a good night’s sleep and I’ll be fine.” To prove my point, I take a swig of my open beer and open the lid on the pizza box. Turning it toward her, I offer, “Want a slice?”

“I wasn’t planning on staying.” But she glances over at the pizza box and I can tell she’s wavering.

“We can even watch a murder documentary.” I up the ante, handing her the remote. “Just not the one with the clowns.” I shudder. “He freaks me the fuck out.”

“Gacy,” she says, but then tenses. “Really, I shouldn’t be here.”

“I think Coach Green would approve of you keeping watch over the team’s star player.” I wink. “In a professional capacity, of course.”

It’s a lame way to try to get her to stay, but fuck, I want her to. I just want to hang out with her one way or the other, even if it’s just as friends.

“One slice of pizza,” she says, diving into the box. “And one show. That’s all.”

I fight a grin. “Perfect.”

“So,” she says, with a mouth full of greasy cheese, “how do you feel about cults?”

17

Twyler

This is a bad idea.

I cut my eyes over to Reese and his bare chest and, well… is it possible to get lightheaded from being in the presence of someone so hot?

I can’t even blame him for taunting me like this. He didn’t know I was coming so it’s not like he’s doing it on purpose. Although I knew there wouldn’t be a party at the Manor tonight because I got a text from Reid asking if I wanted to meet them at the Badger Den. He also tipped me off that Reese would be home. He’d specifically told me he was resting and not going out, thinking that may get me to show up.

The house seemed quiet when I stepped on the porch, but the odds of a few puck bunnies keeping Reese company were definitely decent. I’d made it clear to him earlier in the day that we needed to stop seeing one another. If he wanted to hook up with one—or a dozen—girls, that would be fair.

The first thing I found was a pizza guy walking up the driveway. I tipped him and took the pizza, promising to get it to the person that ordered it.

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