Page 4 of Our Secret Moments

He’s not even here and I can still feel him everywhere.

He’s started to unravel me already and I hate it.

TWO

CONNOR

FOOTBALL BUTT

“Soundedlike you had a good time last night, Bailey.”

I turn to my teammate, roommate and best friend as he grins at me, his face a red, sweaty mess. Nothing new coming from him.

If he means what happened last night at the party that was followed by a long cold shower and hours contemplating my existence while I watched Family Guy… Yeah, I guess I had a good time.

“Yeah, I heard what was going on in that closet,” Sam chimes in, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he slows down our jog to a brisk walk as we trek down from our hike around Estes Park, one of our many morning rituals.

We get up at the literal ass-crack of dawn most mornings to train in the gym, or go for a run, or a hike. Regardless of what happened the night before, hungover or not, we always get up.

I’m never hungover because I don’t drink during the season – a choice Coach Mackenzie encouraged, but most of the boys don’t follow. Including Wes and Sam as they huff and puff, dragging their lazy asses behind me as I power on in front of them.

“And Catherine Fables?” Sam says, not sure if the breathiness in his voice is because he doesn’t work out as much as he should, or if it’s because he’s talking about the most perfect woman I have ever laid my eyes on. I’m assuming the latter. I get out of breath just bythinkingabout her. “She’s fucking gorgeous,” he adds, finally catching up with me and walking beside me.

Of course, I know that. I’m not an idiot.

What I don’t get is how Jason managed to pull that together. His stupid Manifestation Chamber has been something people look forward to at every one of his parties. I’ve never been one of those people. Usually, some girl would try to hook up with me, I’d say no and I’d spend time with my friends. That closet of his is the last thing on my mind when I’m at his parties, but I knew that it was about time I’d get thrown in there. I just didn’t know it would be withher.

The memories of last night burn through my vision, causing me to stop still in my tracks. Just thinking about her makes my stomach do a weird flip thing. I’ve spent years trying my best to stay out of her way, knowing that if I was ever that close to her, I wasn’t sure what I would do.

I had her right where I wanted, those big brown eyes staring up at me, her smartass comments that she reserves just for me, the way she felt beneath my hand when I stopped her from falling…. And I still didn’t make a move. I can pretend to be confident and flirt, but when it gets down to it, I always back out unless I know they feel the exact same way. The same way I’d never lead a girl on if I wasn’t feeling it.

I shake my head at the thoughts of her and when I look down, Wes is on the floor, in a squatting position, grunting and groaning like he’s been doing it for hours.

How long have I been spaced out for?

“What are you doing?” I ask, frustrated. He looks up at me, shaking his head as he stands before slowly sinking back down.

“While you got too in your head, stopping in the middle of our walk, I’ve got to maintain my football butt somehow. Sam has one. You would too if you could quit daydreaming about her for like two minutes,” Wes explains between pants. Somebody needs to tell him that having a good ass does not improve his performance because it’s not going to be me. I’ve tried talking some sense into this idiot five times.

Five.

Fucking.

Times.

“I’m not daydreaming about her. I was–”

“Could've done a better job at those moans if you wanted it to be believable, though,” Wes says, cutting me off as he continues squatting. I squint my eyes at him, the harsh brightness from the golden sunrise obstructing my view.

“That’s exactly what she said to me,” I mutter.

“She’s smart too,” Sam adds, grinning like a loon. He’s got one of those perfect, olive-skinned baby faces that make girls at Drayton Hills absolutely crazy. I don’t get the allure. Especially because every word that comes out of his mouth is stupider than the last. He nudges Wes with his foot as he falls over, laughing before standing back up into a normal walking position. “What do you say, Connie Boy? If you two don’t fall in love by the end of the year, can I shoot my shot?”

I bark out a disbelieving laugh. “We arenotgoing to fall in love.”

“So, I can shoot my shot…?”

“No.”

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