Page 38 of Our Secret Moments

Her ass nestled into my crotch.

The smoothness of her skin beneath mine.

The soft touch of her lips under my finger.

“Yeah, we are,” Wes says, winking at me. “Some of us more than others.”

My face heats up as Coach eyes me suspiciously. It’s not like he told usnotto fool around with her. In fact,I’mthe one who made up that rule so no one could interfere with the very obvious crush I have on her.

“Right…” Coach says, dropping his gaze to his laptop. “Just look after yourself, boys. And listen to your bodies. I know it’s uncomfortable to talk about, but it’s true. Who knows what you guys get up to off the pitch, but I just want you to be in your best shape physically and mentally.”

Wes rolls his head back. “Yes, dad, we’re fine,” he says before his eyes light up and his posture straightens. “In fact, that’s why we’re going to Oliver’s house after the game later to use the pool and the ice bath. There’s going to be food and drinks–” Coach’s eyebrows raise. “Of apple juice, obviously, because we never drink during the season.”

Shitty save but it’s a save nonetheless, and Coach seems to buy it. “Well, don’t have too much fun,” he says, pointing between the two of us. “And don’t have too muchapple juice.”

Wes’s mischievous grin grows tenfold as he turns to me, a knowing smirk forming across his face. “Oh, we won’t.”

I don’t know what that means, but I’m fucking terrified to find out.

CAT

If I thought the first few rounds of interviewing were challenging, this is much worse.

I’ve not been to a football match in months and with the tons of homework I have piled up, I didn’t get to go to my first game as being part of the team. Part of me wanted to go, to experiencethe atmosphere first hand, but the other part of me is glad I didn’t because the aftermath is much worse.

I tried to do some research on how college football actually works, but it just gave me a headache. I scheduled time out of my studying timetable to catch the boys after the game that they just won. I wanted to get their first reactions, some comments on the tactics they used and the best parts of the game. Instead, I got ambushed by sweaty men all whooping and yelling about how good they played.

After I brushed them aside and the pitch and the stands were cleared, Wes and Sam somehow had some sort of energy left in them as they dragged me back to the pitch with them. I have no clue where Connor went, and I didn’t want to ask. Distancing myself from him seems like the best option after last night.

I can still feel himeverywhere.No matter how many drinks I had and how confident I suddenly got, I can still remember it all. There would be no way I’d be able to forget the way his hands felt on me. The way he kissed my neck. The way his hands flexed on my hips each time I rolled my ass into him, feeling his hard length beneath me. I was hungry and downright desperate, which is not like me at all.

That’s the only reason I agreed to watch Wes and Sam run laps as I finished up some of my notes from today’s hectic session with the team. I’m starting to get a hang of it, finally. My ideas and layouts are starting to pull together in a more tangible way, and I can’t wait to see how it’s going to turn out when I go back to Rotford for a check-in.

It also helps with how beautiful the pitch looks at sunset. The sun is fading into a deep orange behind the mountains that envelop Drayton and the spotlights on the pitch glimmer down onto the track. The bleachers are still messy post-game, but it feels vibrant, nonetheless. This is one part of Drayton I’ve missed out on.

“I’m not doing this again,” I say, shutting my laptop as I step down from the bleachers, reaching a very sweaty and stinky Sam and Wes.

“Thank you, Cathy,” Wes coos sweetly. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“And you’re both idiots,” I say, walking past them. I don’t know what sane person would want to run lapsfor funafter just playing a competitive game of football, but maybe it’s some sort of hangover cure? I don’t know.

Sam slings his sweaty arm around my shoulder as we exit the field. “You don’t know how to have any fun,” he says, swaying me to the side.

“I do. Watching you run laps just isn’t exactly my idea of fun,” I retort.

“What about being in a swimming pool with four football players?” Wes asks.

Weird question, but he’s a weird guy. “Tempting, but no. I’m busy,” I say, my automatic response.

“Come on, Cat. You said yourself that the only way to get to know us more is by hanging out with us. No offence, but you’re going to make a very shitty report if you don’t know us outside of football,” Wes argues.

“Yeah,” Sam adds. “We wind down best by swimming at Oli’s.”

I think about it for a minute.

That doesn’t soundtoobad. I love swimming and I haven’t been in a while. And he’s right. I do need to get to know them better. After today’s defeat with the excitement after the game, this could be a better opportunity to get to know them whilst having a little bit of fun.

A bit of fun can’t hurt, right?

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