“Good girl,” he praises as he snaps his hips forward. His hand finds my clit again, rubbing in time with his thrusts. “What a good fucking girl.”
I close my eyes, lost in the tsunami of pleasure that’s hitting me from all angles—his huge cock inside me, his talented fingers, the power with which he’s pleasuring us both. When he lowers his head to my breasts again, I come, the orgasm and my voice ripped from me all at once. He holds me to his chest tightly as his rhythm gets erratic, finally finishing inside me with a low groan.
For a few minutes, we don’t say a word. I can feel his heart pounding, just like my own is, and it’s comforting, knowing he needs a minute to breathe as much as I do. He makes to move off me, but I shake my head, digging my nails into his skin.
“I like it,” I mumble. “You’re like a sexy blanket.”
He laughs against my neck. “I don’t want to squish you.”
“Mm. You are pure muscle.”
“Don’t you know it.” He stays put, his hand stroking through my sweaty hair.
Eventually, though, he does move. I sit up as he goes to take care of the condom. As much as I hate the thought of getting dressed and driving back to campus, I know I need to do it.
He comes out of the bathroom, running his hand through his hair, and smiles when he catches sight of me curled up against the headboard. That smile has no right to be that charming. “Hey. It’s pretty late.”
“I know,” I say quickly. “Thanks, I’ll go change and be out of your hair soon. Text me about the game, okay?”
He walks over to his dresser and takes out a t-shirt. Instead of putting it on, he tosses it to me. “Stay. It’s late, I don’t want you on the road right now.”
“It’s a ten-minute drive to campus.”
“A lot can happen in ten minutes.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I have to get up early for my workout and morning practice tomorrow, so you’ll have plenty of time to get where you need to be. Stay, okay? We can watch something together, or just sleep if you’re ready for that.”
It’s so tempting to say yes. I don’t have an early class tomorrow, so I could take it easy. And what girl says no to a guy asking her to spend the night? Usually, the complaint is that guys won’t offer cuddle time.
But it’s dangerously couple-like. Domestic. And as much as I want it, I know I can’t have it, even if it’s just a night of pretending.
I reach up and kiss him softly before I slip out of the bed. “I can’t.”
He watches as I gather up my clothes, slipping back into what I wore when I first arrived at his place and then tucking my dress and shoes into my bag. I know I probably look all rumpled—I don’t even want to think about what a mess my hair is—but I can’t bring myself to care. With a bit of luck, Laura will be asleep already or spending the night with Barry.
“Call me when you get to your dorm room,” James says eventually. He throws on a pair of sweatpants and walks to the door with me. “Okay?”
“I can just text you.”
“Call.”
His voice holds a surprisingly serious note, so I look up at him. “I don’t want to bother you.”
“You won’t be. I want to make sure you get home safe.”
I wait for him to open the door and send me out into the night, but he doesn’t. He just keeps looking at me, clearly waiting for an answer.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll call you.”
“Good.” He leans in, hesitating for half a second before kissing me on the cheek. “We can talk about the game tomorrow.”
As I drive home, only one thought echoes in my mind: I just slept with my fake boyfriend.
19
JAMES
“Sweetie!” my mother calls.
She’s still halfway across the parking lot, but her arms are open, ready to pull me into a hug. I jog over, letting her wrap me up in her arms. We FaceTime every week, but nothing beats seeing her for real. I hug her back, breathing in the familiar floral scent of her perfume, as she smacks my cheek with a kiss. A Sandra Callahan hug is like nothing else in the world. I’m halfway in game mode already, but can’t help relaxing a bit. I know not everyone has a good relationship with their parents, but I’m fortunate to have two awesomely supportive people in my corner, and in my siblings’ corners. I still feel bad that Bex was intimidated by the thought of them. Yes, we have a lot of privilege, but my parents are good people, and they use their money for good, too. If I’m half as successful as them in my career and my life, I’ll consider that a job well done.
Dad reaches us as Mom steps back. He holds out his hand to shake mine before pulling me into a hug too, slapping my back. “How are you, son? Feeling good?”
“A little nervous,” I admit. The game isn’t until later today, but I’ve been thinking of it since I woke up for my workout. I don’t have many game day rituals—the simpler things are, the better—but I can’t help feeling the nerves in my gut. If we win today, we keep the perfect record we’ve been carrying this season. Beyond that, a win will help prove to everyone that I made the right decision, leaving LSU for McKee as a senior.
Every single game I play this season is an audition for two things: the Heisman Trophy and the NFL draft. While the draft won’t be until the spring, leaving me the full course of the season to impress my potential future bosses, the Heisman is awarded in December, before the college bowl games. I haven’t allowed myself to think about it too much, but nominations will be coming soon, and I know I’m part of the conversation. Another Heisman winner? My father, who is looking at me with pride in his serious eyes. Cooper, Izzy, and I all have his blue eyes and dark hair. My mother always teases that if a girl ever wants to know what Cooper and I will look like when we’re older, she should just check out Dad.
I’ve always been close with my parents, but my dad especially. Cooper, Sebastian, and Izzy all play their sports with talent and grit, but I’m the one who chose to follow in Dad’s footsteps. He had the fortune of a full career in the NFL with the Cardinals and the Giants, several Super Bowl wins, and since retirement, a flourishing post-sports career in broadcasting. I’ve looked up to him since I was a little kid, and the closer I’ve come to reaching the league, the more pressure I feel to become him. Hell, they started writing articles about my potential for professional football when I was in middle school. Anything less than success as an NFL quarterback will be a disappointment for everyone, but especially me and my father.
“You’ll do great,” he says, voice gruff. “Gomez keeps texting me about your progress.”
I feel my face redden. “Has he? Dad—”
He holds up his hands. “I know, I know. You want to do your own thing. I’m just proud, son.”
Suddenly, a blur of long, dark hair and a purple McKee jersey engulfs me. I play along, pretending to stagger backwards as Izzy hugs me, her lean arms squeezing so tightly it hurts. She rubs her cheek against mine, and I drop a kiss to the top of her head.
“Hey,” she says breathlessly as she steps back. “Sorry about that, Chance called me.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Oh, you’re still with Chase?”
She flushes, tucking her hair behind her ear. “We’ve been dating for almost a year now; you know his name.”
“I know Chance is a dumb name,” I say cheerfully. “How’s it going, Iz? Glad you could make it.”
“I wanted to go to Vermont to see Coop’s game, but Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me go on my own,” she says.
“And let Cooper take you to a college party?” I say, filled with horror at the mere thought. I love my sister, but she’s a social butterfly, and has caused more than one headache for our parents at her prep school. On the one hand, it’s a good thing she’s a senior and finally about to graduate, but on the other, I’m not sure McKee is ready for her. “Absolutely not.”
“Exactly!” Mom says.
Izzy huffs out a sigh. “Anyway, this can count as my McKee campus visit. I’m sending in my application as soon as I finish working on my personal statement.”
“That’s great,” I tell her. “It still sucks we won’t overlap at all.”
She shrugs. “I’ll just take your room.”
I bark out a laugh at the thought of Cooper letting our baby sister have the owner’s suite. She’s got all of us wrapped around her finger in one way or another—being the little sister of three protective older brothers will do that—but I’d bet that that will be a bridge too far. “Good luck with that.”
“Seb’s coming, right?” she asks as we head into the restaurant. Coming up from Long Island, they decided to make a day of it, so we’re in Moorbridge for breakfast. After this, I need to go into true game prep, so they’ll be on their own, but I’m excited to know they’ll be watching the game. And an even bigger part of me is excited by the fact Bex will be watching, too.
“Yeah,” I tell Izzy. “Actually, he’s here already, look.”