Page 39 of Our Secret Moments

JoJo’s voice rings in my head, which is the only reason I find myself saying, “Fine. I’ll go.”

SIXTEEN

CONNOR

BIKINIS AND HOT TUBS

If you havetwo lawyers for parents, you get a massive mansion just outside of Denver with an infinity pool, a hot tub, six bedrooms, three storeys, a private estate and a fridge and pantry constantly filled with snacks.

Oliver Nayman is one lucky bastard.

The second we heard about his pool; the team begged to use it. Luckily Oliver doesn’t have many friends outside the team, so he was more than happy to let us use it, especially after a game.

Swimming is one of those relaxing things that doesn’t feel like too much of a workout and it still feels comfortable. I can let the water take me to where I want to go, knowing I’m doing something without doing too much. It’s a perfect sport to do alongside football and an ice bath is good for anyone. It took a while to get used to it, but now I’ve done it so many times it doesn’t feel like anything.

Most of the team ditched Oliver’s small get-together for a bigger party, despite the advice Coach relayed to the whole team at our meeting before our game today. Most of the guys scoffed and continued to talk about the parties they’re hosting this weekend and how many times they’re going to get laid. Theplayboy act is getting old and pathetic by now and it seems like me, Oli, Sam and Wes are the only people that have realised that.

After my fifteen minutes in the ice bath, I make my way into Oliver’s huge kitchen, needing another snack. Those freezing ice cubes make me so fucking hungry. Most of the time I just sit there, staring at the darkened night sky, silently waiting for whatever snack I’m going to find after my time is up.

I pull open a drawer full of every flavour of Oreo’s known to man and pick up a packet of the birthday cake flavour – my favourite. I hear the soft click of the door open and the gentle thump of shoes moving across the wooden floor before they stop. I ignore it, hoping it’s one of the guys that have realised that this kind of night in is much better than an overflowing bar full of men and their BO. I pull a carton of milk from the fridge, pouring some into a glass before downing it and pouring another one.

The footsteps finally pick up again, quieter and I give in to the curiosity.

No.

Fucking.

Way.

Catherine is standing before me in nothing but a purple bikini and a transparent cover-up. Her dark curly hair flows past her shoulders, glowing from the large French doors of Oli’s backyard. The coverup falls past her knees where her ankles cross as she pins her hands behind her back, showcasing her toned stomach and perky tits.

I might pass out.

Is that insane? Probably. This woman has completely bewitched me body and soul. Or whatever that guy from the cheesy rom com says.

She’s standing there, looking absolutely magnificent as she stares at me wide-eyed as ifI’mthe one in the wrong place. Thisismyfriend’s house.Mypost-game safe space. Not hers. She didn’t even know Oliver until four weeks ago.

I forget about my precious Oreo’s and take three steps towards her as she still stares at me. When I reach her, she lifts her head up in challenge. “What are you doing?” she asks.

I almost scoff at her question. “What areyoudoing, Cat?”

She gestures to her outfit and now that I’m closer to her, I have to bite the inside of my cheek, curling my hands into fists at my side. I want to touch her. Ineedto touch her. She’s showing too much skin. Too much for me to see. Too much for me to want.

“What does it look like?” she teases. “I’m getting in the pool.”

“Not in that you’re not,” I say, the words leaving me in a gruff, deep tone.

“I am,” she relays. I wrap my hand around her waist, the skin to skin contact almost making me dizzy as I pull her away from the door where the guys could see her and press her against the wall in the kitchen.

She’s almost too much like this. She smells fucking fantastic – all sweet and fresh. Her skin is scorching despite the weather and part of me wants to believe it’s because of me. I don’t miss the way her eyes scan my naked torso right up to my eyes. I lean both of my hands above her head, caging her in.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I whisper again.

“Research,” she replies, and she has the fucking audacity tosmileat me. She’s too cocky. She knows exactly what I mean, yet she wants to play with me.

I lean my head into the crook of her neck, dropping one of my hands to slowly slip off the shoulder of her cover up. When the soft mesh material falls, I pluck the strap of her bikini. A sharp gasp escapes her lips as the bikini strap slaps back against her skin.

“Research, huh?” I run my finger down her shoulder, revelling in the hungry feeling I get as I feel goosebumps arise across her skin. She nods, not replying. For someone who swears by words as if they’re the key to every problem, she doesn’t have much to say.

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