Page 2 of QB Keeper
“Tanner!” she squeals, pulling her earbuds out and tossing them to the bed before launching herself at me. I almost don’t catch her, opening my arms at the very last second while she wraps around me like a koala bear. This is one hundred percent normal behavior from Grace. I was there the day she came home from the hospital. Our parents have been friends since their years at Hope Harbor High and bought houses next door to each other shortly after college. Our moms were pregnant with me and Riggs at the same time, with Grace following three years later. I’ve experienced almost every one of her major life milestones right alongside her. The only difference between then and now is that she was like a little sister to me. But now, holding her tightly against me with her soft curves pressed against my hard muscles, the thoughts I’m having are so far from brotherly—it’s not even funny.
“Hey, Gracie,” I say, inhaling her signature vanilla scent. “I didn’t mean to barge in. I was looking for your brother.”
“Oh!” she giggles, sliding down my body. “This room has a bathroom, so we swapped after last summer. He has my old room, but he’s not here. His coach is making them stay oncampus until the season is over, so he won’t be here for at least another month. I’m surprised he didn’t text you.”
Riggs is on a full ride to UMass Amherst, which is about two hours from Hope Harbor. He’s one of the top MLB prospects for the next draft, so baseball is his first priority from February to June. I knew he’d be traveling a lot during the NCAA playoffs, but I thought he’d be spending his off time at home.
Well, fuck. Now what am I going to do? Our parents are spending their annual ‘childless vacation’ in Nantucket. They do this every year at the beginning of summer, going away to a cabin for the week, soaking up all the peace and quiet before us kids wreak havoc on their lives for three months straight.
“My phone died on the way here and my charger is packed. I just figured I’d see him here,” I tell her as she hops back on her bed, sitting cross-legged while facing me. I avert my eyes when I notice the white lace of her panties as it peeks out from under her shorts. I’m hyperaware of the fact that if she weren’t wearing underwear, I’d be able to see her pussy. Do Iwantto see her pussy?
No.
I don’t.
I can’t.
What the fuck is going on with me? Maybe I need to get laid. Between my full-time course schedule and daily workouts with the team, I haven’t had the time to hook up in a while. Sophomore year was different. I allowed myself some time to enjoy the parties and girls, but I needed to lock in this past year so NFL team scouts could see that I’m a dedicated quarterback all year long.
A lot of guys opt out of their senior year to declare for the draft, but I was a backup until last season, so I need to play this year to show my chops. The only dream I’ve ever had is to play for the Boston Blizzard, so I’m going to squeeze everymoment out of my college career to prepare for it. Plus, how many people can say they have a degree from Harvard? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and I’ve earned the right to walk across that stage next May.
“Looks like it’s just us for the week,” she says cheerfully. “Do you have plans?”
“No,” I tell her. “I was hoping to just chill and unwind. What about you, Miss High School Graduate? I’m sure you have all sorts of parties lined up. Got a boyfriend to hang with this summer?” I’m fishing. And I don’t know why. So what if she has a boyfriend? It’s not like I could make a move on her even if she didn’t. She’s my best friend’s sister, and she’s only eighteen.
She scoffs. “Yeah, right. You’ve seen the boys at that school. If your boyfriend doesn’t know how to change a tire and wears tighter jeans than you do, then ma’am, throw the whole man away.”
God, I missed her sassy, quirky little attitude. Grace has absolutely no filter. She says whatever she’s thinking, no matter how outlandish it sounds. Nine times out of ten, it’s something fucking hilarious. It’s one of my favorite things about her.
“What about grad parties?” I ask. “Are you going to any?”
She shakes her head. “Almost everyone is traveling right now and waiting until the hotter weather to have theirs. You know the rich kids and their pool parties.” She rolls her eyes likewedon’t come from wealthy families. My father and mother are both successful real estate agents, and the Valentines own a commercial construction company that’s worth millions. But we weren’t raised with silver spoons in our mouths. Our parents taught us the value of a dollar and that we were expected to earn our places in this world just the way they had.
Of course, having money afforded us certain luxuries whenit came to opportunities. Riggs and I both spent summers going from football camps to baseball camps all over the country. We had the best coaches money could buy, but that didn’t mean we could coast our way into college. We used the skills we learned and perfected our crafts so that we’d stand out to scouts. Which, we did. Riggs had his choice of several schools, while I had a shorter list of options, but a couple were Ivy League. Harvard was a no-brainer since it was a quick drive from home, and they have a good football team.
Making the football team as a freshman wasn’t hard, but working my way to being the starter took a while. I was second string until our last quarterback graduated when I was a sophomore. Then, it was a battle to become QB1. I thought I was home free since I was his backup the year prior, but we had an incoming junior transfer from Kent State right before last season, so I had to prove that I was the right man for the job. In the end, I came out on top. I have to return to campus for practices next month, but it’s a short drive, so I plan on commuting. I want to soak up as much of the summer as possible in Hope Harbor.
“So, what are you going to do this week, then?” I ask. It’s hard not to see Grace as the little girl who used to follow us everywhere because she was scared monsters would eat her if we left her by herself, but it’s clear that she’s all grown up now and has a life of her own. The last thing she wants is to tell her brother’s overprotective best friend what kind of trouble she’s planning on getting into while her parents are away.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ll probably just stay here and watch movies or something. I don’t really want to go out and party. I’m kind of over it.”
“You’re going to just hang here alone?” I ask.
“Unless you want to keep me company,” she says with an adorable grin.
I smirk. “You sure you want me here cramping your style? I’m practically an old man now.”
She looks me up and down, and I have to be honest, it makes me feel hot all over as she drags her bright blue eyes from my feet to my face. She stops for just a split second when she gets to my dick, which I’m trying very intensely to stop from getting hard under her gaze.
Fuck, this is bad. I need to end this dry spell so I can stop looking at Riggs’ little sister as something I can have, when I definitely know I can’t.
She raises a brow, her eyes twinkling as she looks into mine. “You don’t look like an old man to me.”
I try to act unaffected, but alarm bells are blaring in my head, telling me to keep some distance between us until I can find a warm hole to stick my dick in. One that doesn’t belong to Grace Valentine. Because apparently, he isn’t getting the memo that she’s the furthest thing from available to us.
“What do you say, hot shot?” she asks. “Want to come back over later and watch a movie? Unless you have plans,” she hurries out. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hang out with me or anything.”
I should tell her I can’t. I should call some friends or a girl and do anything else. But Grace has always had me wrapped around her finger, and I just can’t say no.
