Page 95 of Third and Ten

His eyelids flutter for a second, but he just shakes his head and tightens his arm around me, mumbling something about not caring. “JD,” I start again, this time adding a kiss on his cheek. “It’s time for you to go back to your own bed. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

His chest expands before he finally opens his eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll go, but only after one more kiss,” he agrees sleepily. I happily oblige until he pulls away with a groan.

“I should probably make a pass down the team hall on my way back, too. I almost forgot that we might not be the only kids sneaking into each other’s rooms tonight.”

I cringe at his reminder that Ethan’s crush and the rest of the cheer squad traveled with the team. “Ugh. That’s probably not a bad idea. I don’t want to see any new teenage maternity clients in a month.”

“Let’s hope not, for the sake of my job.” Then he stands and yanks his hoodie down over his head. (What a travesty, by the way.) “Good night, Tenley Jean.”

“Stop calling me that, or I’m going to start using your full name in public, Joseph Drake Bourgeois the Third,” I warn him, but he doesn’t seem bothered. It’s probably the result of growing up with his namesake on a small-town law firm sign and having his full name listed beside his stats during televised football games.

“Call me anything you want,” he replies smugly.

Or maybe he’s just flirting again.

“How did you learn my middle name, anyway?” I continue, trying to ignore his smoldering look.

“Ethan, of course,” he states as he breaks eye contact to slide into his shoes. He puts his cap on backward this time, which I now understand means he’s activating his cocky teenage-boy persona. “Between picking his brain and the qualitative data I’ve collected tonight, I’m on my way to becoming a Tenley Jean expert.”

Yep, there he is, folks.

“Oh, yeah?” I retort.

He smirks as he steps back toward the exit. “Yep. So, uh, how many more days of this peak fertility stuff, you think?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering whether I’ll get ‘Friend-Zone Tenley’ or ‘Thirst-Trap Tenley’ if I come knocking on your door again tomorrow night,” he says, winking. “It seems as though there’s no in-between.”

My nostrils flare, and he chuckles as I grab a pillow and chuck it at his head. But he simply dodges it and purses his lips to blow a kiss before sneaking out the door.

As soon as he’s gone, I sigh heavily and throw myself back onto the rest of the pillows. I, for one, hope not to see Thirst-Trap Tenley again tomorrow night. Unless, of course, Backward-Cap, Shirtless JD comes knocking.

CHAPTER 29

JD

That’s it. I’m toast.

I close the door to Tenley’s room behind me, stopping to let my head fall back against the solid surface. I thought I had it bad for her before, but I was wrong. There’s no doubt in my mind, after all that positive reinforcement in the form of the hottest pheromone-driven make-out session I’ve ever experienced, that I am completely in love with her. I am, like, cheesy, corny, whipped, in love with Tenley Robin.

I bite my lip and shake my head, thinking about the flustered look on her face after I handed her that bag of Red Hots, and then again when she tried to explain the ins and outs of female fertility, just so she could have an excuse to jump me without looking like a tease. It was almost as hot as when she got so worked up at that bad PI call that she yelled at the TV.

I still don’t want to risk ruining anything by rushing the physical aspect of our relationship; it’s just that I wasn’t prepared for this. I didn’t even think it was possible for everything to feel as good as it does with Tenley. Although I know slow and steady is the right pace, I’m going to have to exercise more willpower than it took to recover after my knee surgery to keep myself from giving in to that overwhelming temptation. And I’m almost certain that once we cross that line, we won’t be able to stop.

Oh, and there’s also that small detail about Tenley not being a fan of contraception. All the more reason to postpone sex, right?

Or maybe I should just prepare for the inevitable.

Another fantasy pops into my head: I return home from practice to find Tenley sitting at the kitchen counter with a basketball-shaped belly poking out of her open lab coat. She greets me with a kiss on the cheek as Ethan walks in behind me.

One second of that vision is enough to solidify my end goals.

But is sleeping together now even in line with all that?

I’m startled by a noise from somewhere down the hallway, reminding me that I’m not supposed to be out here. I survey the area carefully before darting back to the empty elevator, considering whether I should check the spirit-group floor for any suspicious activity. But I reassure myself that Mrs. Rachel, our cheer sponsor, runs a tight ship, and I venture down to the team floor again.

Then the elevator doors open to reveal a handful of boys dressed identically to me, all wide-eyed and scared shitless, except for one. Ethan steps forward from the group, and I cross my arms and stare him down, not saying a word.

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