Page 15 of Rocking the Receiver
I look away in order to do anything but stare at his mouth and throat as he swallows his food. What’s wrong with me? “Of course! We discuss plenty of topics, including updates on the Lefevre tribe.”
“Did you tell him we’ve been… texting?”
I concentrate on him again. My fingers twitch. I wish I was holding a glass to occupy my hands instead of stashing them in my pants pockets. “I certainly did not. It’s none of his business.” He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t interrupt me. “As for you, whydidn’tyoumention the scholarship to begin with?” He worries his bottom lip, speechless—a first! “It’s amazing, Elliot. You must be so proud.”
“Well, I worked my ass off for it, so I’m mostly thankful that they acknowledge dedication, hard work, and talent when they see it.”
“Modest, as always,” I mock him gently.
“Stating facts is all.” His gaze dares me to disagree. I don’t.
“Which position will you be playing when you get to Austin?”
“Wow, so you know about Austin, too! My brother did clue you in, didn’t he?” Expectant, I raise an eyebrow. “Wiiide receiver.” Stretching the word, he winks, his brown gaze full of mischief.
Old habits die hard…
I shake my head to indicate that no matter our shared secret sexual orientation—or maybe because of it—he shouldn’t go there. He did mention once in passing that nobody is privy to his. I remember how heavy a burden that is, although I remain mostly closeted. That said, I strongly believe we should maintain the boundaries I set for our unlikely friendship after he went too far. The troublemaker can’t help but waggle his ginger eyebrows, his eyes burning into mine. “Football innuendo? Really? Don’t even go there, Elliot.” My tone is harsher than intended, but I’m well-aware of his double entendre by now. “If you’re as serious about football as you claim to be and want to go pro, this is no joke.”
“Chillax, Brit! I’m teasing. Yes, I’ve told you countless times, the NFL is my goal, and when I set my mind to something, I don’t derail. I like to keep things light, but that doesn’t imply I’mcareless. As for receiving, well, it depends on the circumstances and the guy, I guess. So far, my limited experience hasn’t enabled me to form a proper opinion. Strike that… Actually, when given the opportunity, I think I’dfancytopping over bottoming.”
“You’re an incorrigible little brat, Elliot Lefevre.”
“And that’s what you love about me, isn’t it? Maybe you should envision this friendship with a twist.” His large hand lands on my elbow. This simple gesture, surely comparable to a nod, does all kinds of naughty things to my body. A mere touch, and I’m hot and bothered like a school girl fangirling over a movie star. It’s the first touch since our kiss, though. “Friends with benefits would be fun, don’t you think?”
Two parts of my mind duel. I can’t deny that his sassy side amuses me, but my rational brain reminds me that I’m the adult. Before I can open my mouth to scold him, Tim catches us off-guard, bursting our cozy little bubble.
Tim’s been playing the social butterfly throughout the day. His day, and I would be an asshole to mind. If I’m being honest, the fact that he hasn’t been checking on me contributed to my relaxation. A pang of guilt settles in my stomach. From Elliot’s sinful proposition that Tim stays oblivious to.
Well, I never told my best friend how close his brother and I have become; I barely hinted it to Sally, and I surely never confessed the forbidden kiss he stole from me… and that I reciprocated before getting a hold of myself. A shrink would have a field trip with that, I’m sure, but there’s none in the vicinity, so…
My best friend hands me some sparkling water. The guy knows all of my idiosyncrasies; it’s unnerving. “Here you are! Sorry I’minterrupting. Was this guy boring you with football stuff, like he usually does?” Elliot sticks his tongue out at this brother. The back of my neck itches. I gulp the water to regain my composure. “You ready for your big performance, country star?”
I take a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be. It’s a bit nerve-wracking, to be honest.” I glance at Elliot, who’s suddenly become silent.
“You’ll be amazing, just like you always are.”
“Thanks for the support, Tim.”
He clinks his wine against my half-full glass. I blank out for a bit before fathoming that Elliot split.
Dammit!
Prior to Tim’s wedding party, my thoughts hadn’t been sexual as far as Elliot was concerned. I mean, I’m no monk so, naturally, I’d noticed how hot he is. The permanent slight curl of his upper lip. His velvety freckled skin. His phenomenal ass.
Today, it dawns on me that this train of thought is impossible to fight. The sound of his mirth mixed with his inappropriate conversation was enough to make me rock-hard earlier.
My own contradictions return with a vengeance. Elliot is off-limits. I like him a tad too much. Can I indulge in his suggestion? His hungry gaze sure flatters my ego. I bet my eyes conveyed equal pent-up longing. We know each other’s secret. We’ll live in the same country, but far enough apart to avoid raising suspicion. Would it be so bad to cave? The semi that the dim light hopefully conceals is totally on board, but has yet to convince my other head.
I quiver when I eventually realize one unsettling thing: My friendship with Tim barely enters the equation while I ponder my options.
“… mom’s going to cry, you know.” Tim’s voice wrenches me from my wrongful debate.
“Your mom?” I ask, confused.
“No, I said yours.” He chuckles, his hand clasping my shoulder. He leads me to the small stage set up on the lawn. “Even as a teenager, I remember her tearing up when you performed.”
“Yeah, she does… and she will.”
