Page 92 of The Surprise Play
“You’ll freeze your balls off, and your dick won’t work properly.”
“I’m not going there to have sex with her,” I muttered, and he stopped and stared at me like I’d just said I was a unicorn. “What?”
“Seriously? Don’t you always have sex with your dates?”
“No.” I frown at him.
“Please, you’re like the Joey Tribbiani of Football Frat.”
“I am not.” I started getting pissed off for reasons I couldn’t even understand. “Like you can talk. You used to sleep with every vagina that walked past you.”
“That is bullshit, and you know it.” He pointed at me, his face contorting with a snarl. “I’m not saying I didn’t sleep around, but you are definitely worse than me, and you can’t tell me you’re not prepping this picnic while thinking about her tits in the moonlight.”
A low, harsh growl reverberated in my throat. “Talk about her tits again. I dare you.”
He raised his eyebrows at me, letting out this surprised chuckle before shaking his head. And I just had to stand there scowling at him because dammit, he was right.
I had totally thought about what her large, luscious tits would look like in the moonlight.
But I wasn’t going to act on it.
I never acted on it unless they wanted me to. I just happened to go out with a lot of girls who were frisky and free with their lovin’.
Satch isn’t like that, though.
She’s not about to strip naked on this field and spread her legs for me. I’ll be lucky if I get a kiss.
Please let me get at least a kiss.
I swallow, surprised by just how much I’ve been thinking about the feel of her tongue lightly brushing against mine before she freaked and bolted away from the table.
Focusing back on my setup, I switch on the camping lanterns, lining them up around the edge of the blanket. I’m trying not to check out Satch as she wanders around me, still staring up at the stands and marveling at the size of the stadium.
I don’t want a one-and-done with this girl.
I’m not even asking her out to get her into bed and… okay, dammit, Carson was right to be surprised.
This dateisdifferent.
There is zero expectation of sex because Satch is for sure a virgin, and I’m not gonna pressure her into anything. She also doesn’t seem the type who’s desperate to lose it. She doesn’t need the status of giving it up to a star football player like that chick I let talk me into it two years ago. We dated for a couple of months after that, but then she ended up falling for a guy in her economics class. He was super smart and made her laugh all the time.
I was her introduction into the physical stuff, but he was the guy who stole her heart.
I’ve never been a heart stealer.
I seem to be the guy girls like to have light, flirty fun with. I’m the guy you screw at a party and swoon about with your girlfriends.
I’m not the one you take home to meet Ma and Pa unless you’re trying to get them off your back. Yes, I’ve done that for a girl once too. It was all for pretend, just so they’d stop trying to set her up with this lawyer at her dad’s firm.
It worked, and we had some very hot, wild sex at her parents’ beach house before the rest of her family arrived and we played the role of loved-up college kids.
But once the long weekend was over, we got back to Nolan and went our separate ways, only reuniting every few weeks when she needed to prove she was still in a relationship. That ended last year when she met Mr. Right and our game of pretend came to an abrupt end.
My eyebrows dip as I pull out the thermos of hot chocolate and glance over my shoulder. Satch is staring up at the moon with this sweet smile on her face, and for reasons I once again can’t fathom, the thought of this being a one-off thing is sitting really ugly in my chest.
Which is why I will not be sleeping with her tonight.
Because I already know I want another date.
