Page 70 of Flagrant Foul
I try to wave it off, but I can’t come close to wiping the smile off my face.
The flight home is worse than torture. Sev is sitting diagonally across the aisle from me, and all I can see are his legs, crossed at the ankles. I’m not even sure that would be hot if it were anyone else, but because it’s Sev, because it’s those legs, those ankles, my spinal column pulsates at the sight.
Now and again, he swivels around and takes a peek at me. One dark eye peers from behind his seat and a sliver of a lethal smile hits me square in the chest. My entire body heats and pure, pristine anticipation rushes through my veins.
By the time we land, I can’t feel my face, and though I’m pretty sure I’m walking upright, I could swear my feet aren’t touching the ground.
“Is he looking at me?” I whisper pathetically to Lockie as we wait for our bags.
“He hasn’t stopped looking at you since breakfast. What the hell happened between the two of you last night?”
“I don’t know. One minute, he was threatening to decapitate you, and the next, he was trying to make conversation, and…and, and then, he gave me his hair tie…”
“Hmm,” says Lockie as though that makes complete sense. “Well, it’s clear what you need to do.”
Personally, I’ve never been less clear on anything in my whole life. “What do you mean?”
He gapes at my stupidity, lip pulling up at a cockeyed angle. “I mean you need to get home and douche—that’swhat I mean.”
“But I…”
“Look, Tee, I don’t know what to tell you, butthatman”—he points surreptitiously at Sev, who just so happens to be staring at me so hard that I’m pretty sure he’s attempting to melt my clothes off me—“is going to bend you over the first chance he gets.”
I flush again, this time from a slow, rampant heat that travels up my body from feet to lips.
Lockie sees his bag on the conveyor belt and pushes his way through players to pick it up.
Sev appears at my side, takes my wrist, and circles it in his hand, squeezing just hard enough that my brain experiences a factory reset.
“What was he yapping about?” he snarls.
“Oh, um, I can’t remember,” I answer truthfully.
He’s still holding my wrist. Other than that, everything and everyone around us is normal. They’re all doing the usual things. Getting their bags. Talking shit to each other. Going about their usual business.
“Coach wants to see me,” Sev says quietly. “Shouldn’t take too long, but you go home without me. I’ll be right behind you.”
I’m on my hands and knees, head under the sink as I search my vanity unit desperately for my enema kit. I’m sweating from stress, and yes, I guess you could say I’ve overthought things slightly.
I come up, bulb in hand, and look at myself in the mirror. I look a wreck. My face is red, and my hair is a mess. There’s a wildness in my eyes that’s a big worry.
Am I being crazy even thinking about doing this?
Fuck Lockie for putting the idea in my head. Now I can’t think of anything else.
I mean, is it insane? Nothing’s happened between Sev and me for years. We kissed once, and now I’m letting my mind run all the way to getting fucked.
Is that normal?
On the other hand, nothing’s happened between Sev and me for years. Years and years. So many fucking years, and last night something finally did.
He kissed me.
And it was the greatest kiss of all time.
The rightest, hottest, sexiest kiss any man has ever received.
So yes, maybe Lockie’s right and I should douche. It’s not a big deal. I’ll clean out, shower, and be in the living room, fully dressed and acting normal when Sev gets home. It’s not like he’ll be able to tell what I’ve been up to. You can’t tell if someone’s cleaned out by looking at them. There’s no way he’ll know.
