Page 14 of Blindside Me
The towel shifts, revealing what can only be described as impressive DNA. But his generous cock isn’t what stops me. No. It’s the angry purple and red bruise covering the tip.
Oh. My. God.
Ibrandedhim. It looks like a love note written in Morse code. With myteeth.
My cheeks burn. “Holy shit. Did I do that?”
“No one else sucked like they were trying to extract my soul through a straw.”
My mouth opens. Closes. I stand there flabbergasted, not knowing what to say.
“Um.” I can’t look away, too stunned by what I did. “I’m so sorry. I’m usually better than that.”
His lips curve up once again. “Yeah? Not the first time leaving evidence behind?”
My cheeks flame. “Of course, it’s the first time. Jesus.”
“Okay, okay.” His chuckles echo in the room.
I snap my gaze back to his and straighten my shoulders. The amusement dancing in his eyes irritates me. I don’t say anything else. I’ll be damned if he thinks he’s gotten to me. So, I let out a sharp breath and pretend nothing happened. Pretending I’m in control again.
Like I can shrug it all off.
Like I’m not imagining his eyes on me until I see him next.
“Don’t be late for the interview,” I say. Without another word, I yank the towel off without looking back and toss it in the bin on my way out.
Mr. Hottie will not get the best of me.
CHAPTER FIVE
Drew
The gym lights hum above me, loud and insistent, like they’re mocking my every move. The sound is twitchy and grating. Just like my mood.
I keep my head down, determined to focus on the new layer of tape I’m wrapping around my stick’s blade. Left hand steady, right hand tight, though I wince as I shift on the bench, the lingering ache from that damn club night still nagging. This is supposed to calm me down. It doesn’t.
She’s late.
Not that I’m counting minutes, but I am. I’ve been here since my early morning workout. Coach didn’t set a time, just said “by seven.” That means before, not after. Order matters. Discipline matters.
Jade Howell? She does not care about either.
The door creaks open behind me, and the temperature in the gym feels ten degrees warmer, just like that.
“Sorry,” she calls out, voice bright and unapologetic. She’s all golden hair and zero accountability, sipping coffee like she’s strolling into brunch. “I’m allergic to seven a.m.”
I don’t bother looking up. I just rip the tape with my teeth. “You’re late.”
Her laugh cuts through the cold air, sharp and clear. “Nice to meet you, too, Sunshine.”
She walks in like this is her stage, and I’m just the warm-up act. And somehow, I’m the one who feels off balance.
I tear off another strip of tape, keeping my eyes locked on my stick. Girls like her are distractions, pure and simple. And I don’t do distractions. Not anymore.
“Don’t you have a class to sleep through?” I ask, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
She drops onto the bench beside me and crosses her long legs like she’s got all the time in the world. “Not til later.” She sips her drink, watching me over the rim.
