Page 14 of Sneaking Around with the Player
“What are you up to tonight? Getting ready to go out?”
“No. I don’t think so. Holly went out with a couple of girls on our floor, but I had a late practice, and my parents will be here tomorrow morning for the football game. I’m just not feeling it tonight. One second. I need both hands to get dressed.”
“Actually, I’m just about to head out. I’m not really feeling it tonight either. Can I call you back when I get to my dorm?”
“Yeah.” She hits me with a smile that has my heart rate picking up speed.
It only takes seven minutes to walk home. I pull on sweats and a T-shirt before calling Stella back.
This time when she appears, the hesitant smile is gone. “Look what I have.”
She lifts up a cheeseburger in one hand that makes my stomach growl. “Oh, that looks good.”
“It is.” She makes a big show of taking a bite and chewing. Her eyes fall closed, and she moans. A moan that goes straight to my dick.
She finishes chewing and asks, “How was the party?”
I clear my throat. “Fine.”
“So fine you ditched it early? Is everything okay?”
“Long day,” I admit. “I should thank your ex, though.”
“My ex?”
“Yeah. I used his trick.”
“I don’t follow.” Her brown eyes squint at me.
I tell her the story of how I whistled until Jenny was uncomfortable and confused.
“You didn’t.”
“She wasn’t taking no for an answer, and I was getting annoyed.”
Stella covers her mouth with a hand as she laughs. “That’s hilarious. Is this Jenny chick an ex?”
“Not exactly. We made out. Once. I’m not really interested in dating anyone right now.”
“Right. You don’t have time.” She uses air quotes, throwing my words back at me.
“It’s true. Football takes up so much of my time—” I stop abruptly, the end of the sentence hanging between us. My face goes hot. Ah shit. I wanted to tell her, but not like this.
“Did you say football?” she asks the question slowly, like she isn’t sure she heard me right.
“Don’t freak out.”
“Why would I freak out?” Stella sits a little straighter, and I swear I can see the stoic mask pulling down over her features.
“I play football at Colorado.”
“Why would you not tell me that?”
“I’m also from Arizona originally. I went to Rochester High School.”
“I know that school. It’s not far from where I went.” Her tone is somewhere between confused and surprised.
“Yeah.” I swallow around a lump the size of a golf ball. “We played your school.”
