Page 49 of Of Pucking Course

It amped up the second that he rescued me from that humiliating moment at my wedding reception a week ago and hid me away in that storage closet.

Now it’s crystal clear: I’m wildly attracted to Sam. I’m done pretending that I see him as just a friend.

I want to see the other side of him—the side that he’s trying so hard to keep from me.

My hand tingles as I touch his hot skin. He’s staring down at where I’m touching him, his chest rising and falling with each breath he takes.

When he gazes up at me, my breath catches at the look in his gemstone eyes.

Fiery. Focused. Hungry.

I swallow hard.

“I can’t show you what I’m like in bed, Dakota,” he rasps.

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

His throat works, and the muscles in the side of his impossibly square jaw bulge. Like he’s struggling.

He closes his eyes, like he’s summoning some inner reserve of willpower to stand here and talk to me.

I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

He opens his eyes again, pinning me with his stare. Tension sparks in the air between us. We’re standing so close that I can feel the heat from his body skimming mine.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he mutters. “You shouldn’t be touching me.”

“And yet here you are, letting me.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up, like he’s fighting a smile.

“Do you want me to stop touching you, Sam? Do you want me to take my hand away?”

Holding my gaze, he shakes his head. I take that silent admission as a green light to keep going, keep pushing his buttons. It’s clear he likes it.

I plant my other hand on his chest, pressing against the firmness. I shiver. God, he’s ripped. And so strong. Hiseyelids flutter.

Slowly, I slide my palm down the hard plane of his stomach. Even through the fabric of his t-shirt, I can feel the lines of his abs. He exhales sharply, his jaw bulging as he bites down.

“I want you, Sam.”

“I want you, too.”

Sparks go off in my chest at his admission. Hearing him say he wants me too is enough to make me admit the thing I’ve been holding back from him all these years.

“I’ve liked you since the first night I met you,” I say.

He blinks at me like he’s surprised. For a second, I’m nervous. I’m scared he thinks I’m creepy for having a crush on him this whole time.

But then he says, “I’ve liked you ever since I met you, too.”

I stare at him, stunned. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He frowns. “Why do you seem so surprised?”

“You never said anything.”

He hesitates for a second. “Your brother is my best friend. And my teammate. He’d kill me if I ever tried anything with you.”

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