Her mouth sags. “Oh.”

  “It’s no big deal. We all go through it.”

  “Okay.” She looks down, her cheeks burning red. “It was that obvious, huh?”

  “No. Well…” I smile. “I did sense a lack of experience.”

  Her breaths come slowly. “Okay, yeah. Technically, I guess I am.”

  “Technically?”

  “Well, I’ve almost done it.”

  “Almost?”

  “Once.”

  “Once?” I ask.

  Rose cringes. “Is that bad?”

  “No.” I chuckle. “Trust me, Rose, there’s no bad answer to that question.”

  She exhales, relieved, as her gaze falls again. “Okay,” is all she says.

  I tilt forward, wanting her to look at me. “Rose.”

  It takes a moment, but she finally raises her eyes.

  “It was my fault,” I say again. “I made you uncomfortable and I’m sorry.”

  “No, it…” She hesitates. “It wasn’t you. I…” She rolls her shoulders back. “Last night, I kinda freaked out a little because…” Her eyes fall to my chest. “Your tattoo.”

  “My tattoo?”

  “I didn’t know you were Alpha Delta Xi.”

  “Is that bad?” I ask.

  “No. It just brought back some bad undergraduate memories. That’s all.”

  “Too many keggers?” I quip. “I get that.”

  “No. I wish.” She hesitates, her eyes locked on her coffee. “There was a guy.”

  “A guy?”

  “My almost once. He was Delta Xi.”

  My chest clenches. Someone in my house did this? If I lose this challenge because of this…

  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” I ask. “Because we have rules.”

  “No, he didn’t! It was nothing like that.”

  “Brother or not, I’ll round up the boys. Just give me a name. We’ll kick his ass.”

  She laughs it off, but I’m not kidding. “It wasn’t like that.”

  I nod. “So, what happened?”

  Rose shrugs. “He was just your classic womanizer type. I fell for it. He strung me along until he got me alone. I realized he only wanted me for one thing. I wanted to stop, and he turned into a big jerk about it. Kinda scarred me a little — emotionally. I threw in the dating towel for a while after that, focused on my studies. Maybe a little too focused since I ended up graduating early.” She stops herself from rambling on. “Anyway, that’s why I kind of… freaked out. It wasn’t your fault.”

  I clear my throat. “Yeah, guys like that are assholes. But that’s not me.”

  Sure it is.

  “I wouldn’t hurt you like that,” I add. “I want you to know that.”

  Sure you would.

  I silently scold myself.

  Shut up, dude.

  “I know,” Rose says. “And I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” I say. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  “I’d be a special kind of jerk if I were,” I say.

  She smiles. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “What are you doing tonight?” I ask.

  “Well, it’s Saturday, so I have my usual date with a stadium bleacher, but it’s an away game, so I’ll be at home on the couch. Why?”

  “I want to see you again,” I say.

  She pauses. “I don’t know, John.”

  “Last night was incredible, Rose. I need to see you again.”

  Her lips twitch. “But you have a game tonight.”

  “I’ll come by afterward.”

  “What about the after party?”

  “What after party?”

  “There’s always an after party, isn’t there?”

  “I’ll skip it.” I step up, stopping on her stair. “I’d rather see you again.”

  “John,” she says, ready to turn me away. “I—”

  “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” I say before she can. “If you just wanna talk, we’ll talk. That’s all. But I want your smile to be the last thing I see before I go to bed tonight.”

  Rose blushes. That’s a good sign.

  Time to rush the end zone.

  “And…” I say, leaning in and dropping to a whisper, “I’m going to run a touchdown for you.”

  She laughs. “Will you?”

  “Yes, I will. And when I do, I’ll stand up and blow a kiss. Only you will know who it’s for.”

  Her gaze falls to my mouth. “That sounds nice,” she whispers.

  I kiss her cheek. “So, are we okay?”

  “Yeah,” she says, still so close. “We’re okay.”

  I kiss her again, soft and slow.

  Gotcha.

  The stairwell door two floors below us opens, the sudden sound drawing us apart.

  Rose clears her throat. “So, I should get—“

  “Get back to office hours.”

  “I was gonna say get to the bathroom because I really—”

  I sidle out of her way. “Go.”

  “Thank you.”

  She rushes past, but I never got that yes.

  “Tonight?” I ask with a whisper.

  Rose looks back as the thumping beneath us gets louder. She nods with a smile before throwing open the third floor door and exiting the stairwell.

  I take a sip of my coffee.

  Johnny’s still in this game.

  CHAPTER 14

  ROSE

  “So, let me get this straight,” Daisy says. “You had the guy on your bed?”

  I sigh into the phone. “Yes.”

  “Half naked in all his tight, muscled glory?”

  “Correct.”

  “And you just… stopped and asked him to leave?”

  “I panicked, okay!” I say. “I’m not like you.”

  She feigns a gasp. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you like dick, Daisy.”

  Another gasp. Then, “Eh. True enough.”

  “He could have been a real jerk about it,” I continue. “But he was really sweet. And understanding.” I smile. “He’s coming over again tonight after the game to talk.”

  “Right.” She snorts. “To talk.”

  “We’re gonna talk.”

  The sound of her ripping open a bag of chips carries through the phone. “You’re gonna bang him this time, though, right?” she asks.

  I roll my eyes. “Daisy…”

  “Why not? You found out he’s a frat guy. So what?”

  “The same frat as… you know who.”

  “Again, I ask, so what? Statistically speaking, that just means he knows what he’s doing, and isn’t that what this is all about? Light and casual? No strings attached? Frat guys are perf for that.”

  I tilt my head, considering it as the game returns from commercial. “Maybe.”

  “Game’s back on,” she says.

  “I’m watching.”

  We watch together as the offense huddles near the forty yard line. Even in a sea of helmets and uniforms, I spot him. Tall and lean. A commanding presence on the team, for sure.

  A commanding presence on my bed, too.

  I don’t even think about saying that thought out loud.

  I lean forward as they line up. The home team is stiff, getting desperate. They’re off their game despite home advantage. The Chicago North Bearhawks are just too good now. Too strong. Too focused.

  I bite my lip as the play begins.

  Junior Morgan steps back, his arm raised, ready to throw, and the game goes into slow motion. This always happens when the ball goes airborne, those precious moments between success and failure.

  Junior throws the ball. Others chase after it. They tackle and tumble. They leap and fall.

  But John Kirby is already in the end zone.

  He catches it. Touchdown.

  “Oh!” Daisy says. “Check out ya boy.”

  I grin as the camera focuses on him. They all know John by now, expecting him to start up his token end zone dance, but this time is different. He stands straight up and brings a gloved hand to his mouth. He blows a kiss.

  My kiss.

  “Doesn’t he usually do some dumb dance?” Daisy asks.

  “Yeah,” I answer.

  She hums. “Well, I bet whoever he’s thinking of feels pretty good about themselves right now.”

  “You’re far too smart for your own good, Daisy.”

  She chuckles.

  I focus on the game again.

  “You’re gonna bang him this time, though, right?”

  I don’t answer as my cheeks burn.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  There’s no hesitation this time. I walk across my living room to open the door, still feeling a light hop in my step.

  “Oh, my god!” I say to John standing in the hall. “That game was amazing!” I cross toward my kitchen. “You guys absolutely slaughtered them! It’s like everyone was exactly where they were supposed to be at exactly the right moment. Once you were ahead, they just couldn’t keep up. Do you want something to drink?”

  I reach into my refrigerator, grabbing two bottles of water from the door before spinning back around.

  “John?” I ask the empty kitchen.

  I return to the living room, finding him still lingering in the open doorway.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hi,” he says.

  “You’re just standing there.”

  “Well, I was never invited in, so…”

  “Oh.” I smack my forehead. “Right. Where are my manners? Please come in, Mr. Kirby.”

  He grins. “I’d be delighted to, Ms. Hawthorne.”

  I blush at the name as he walks in and closes the door behind him.

  “Water?” I offer.

  “Yes, please.”

  John takes the bottle and twists the cap. “So, you enjoyed the game, eh?”

  “I could not stop screaming,” I say. “I expect many a noise complaint from my landlord in the morning. But it was worth it.”

  “Was there anything in particular you liked about it?” he asks.

  “Oh, man! That two-point conversion!” I say. “Like, you guys didn’t even need the extra point, but you took it anyway.”

  “Yes, we did.”

  “Oh!” I bounce. “That pass right before half-time. I know Junior’s got a legendary arm, but that was some Arthurian level yardage going on there.”

  John squints. “Anything else?”

  He’s fishing for that touchdown, I know that. I also know that if I think too much about it, I’ll go full puddle. If I do that, then I’m not sure what would happen next. Would I weather it like the professional authority figure I aspire to be? Or would I officially snap that rulebook in half?

  I clear my throat. “Well, you scored a touchdown.”

  “A few of them, actually.”

  “Yeah, but one was… different from the others.”

  “How so?”

  I hesitate. He just smiles. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he says.

  “You ran a touchdown for me,” I say. “Then you blew a kiss… for me.”

  He looks down, eyes softly touching my lips before meeting my eyes again. “I told you I would,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

  I press my lips together. “You are an honest man, Mr. Kirby.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “No?”

  “A line like that could ruin my reputation,” he jokes.

  I chuckle. “You’re a scoundrel,” I say. “A blight on mankind.”

  John leans closer, his eyes on my mouth again. “Now we’re talking.”

  He kisses me. It’s only a light peck, but a shock wave still trembles my knees.

  John turns his head. “Sorry.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  “I wasn’t sure you wanted me to do that.”

  I smile. “You can kiss me.”

  “Again?”

  “Yeah.”

  He kisses me again. This time, he softly touches my face, both palms coming to rest on my cheeks.

  What the hell am I doing?

  There’s that voice again. The one that tells me what I’m doing is wrong. My own sensitive feelings aside, I’m his teacher. He’s my student.

  I kiss him back, ignoring the voice in my head as it shouts louder.

  I should stop this.

  I take a step away, but John moves with me. Our lips caress again, sparks igniting between us and pulling us back together. His hands fall to my waist and I can’t stop myself as I throw my arms around his neck.

  I should definitely stop this.

  We wander together, taking stumbling steps toward the couch. I sit first, keeping a grip on his shirt to pull him with me as I lie down.

  “Do you want to stop?” he asks, his breath warm on my cheek.

  Yes.

  Stop.

  “Maybe just a little more,” I say, falling into temptation.

  We settle on the couch, limbs twisted and tongues tied. I can’t stop touching him. His strong chest. His thick biceps. He seems to have the same problem as I have; his hands constantly roaming from my breasts to my thighs and back again.

  “Rose,” he whispers, catching his breath.

  “Yeah?” I ask.

  “I should go.”

  My heart lurches. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No.” He chuckles. “No, this is all very, very right, I just…”

  I look at him, his eyes clenched shut. “What?”

  He exhales slowly. “If I don’t go now, then I won’t want to stop…”

  I tremble, my mind and body torn. I don’t want him to go. I don’t want him to stop either. I want… something I haven’t bothered to think about in so long, but this time feels different. It’s fresh and new, but not at all frightening.

  I touch his face, drawing his eyes to mine. “Then don’t go,” I say.

  John studies my eyes. “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “I’m sure.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, his lips curling.

  I chuckle. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  We kiss and the butterflies fade from my belly. Of course I’m sure. I’m ready and willing to fall into John’s arms, to let him take me.

  He touches my outer thigh, fingers slowly crawling up my skirt. “Do you trust me?” he whispers, our kisses deeper than before.

  I take a breath. I nod. “Yes.”

  His hand moves to my inner thigh. My nerves quiver as he inches toward my panties. I’m pulled between two sensations; the hunger of his kiss and the throbbing need between my thighs. I gasp as he caresses me, our bodies separated by a thin layer of cotton and nothing more.

  “I’ll make you feel good,” he says as he kisses me again. “Just relax.”

  I lie back. I part my knees a little wider. My breath quickens, matching my racing heart as he slides his fingertips along the elastic. I kiss him harder. Every hesitation in me melts the closer his touch gets to my… oh.

  John cradles my clit between two fingers, teasing me with slow, aching circles.

  “John,” I whisper.

  He silences me with a kiss. “Call me Johnny,” he says.

  He rubs harder, and I can’t call him anything. I can’t say a word as pleasure dances throughout my core. My hips buck with an instinctual urge, his fingers locked in the most sensitive places. I moan on his tongue, unable to stop the deluge dripping out of my slit.

  “Rose, look at me.”

  I look at him, not even realizing I had my eyes closed.

  “Good,” he whispers. He slides a single finger… down. “Is this okay?”

  I hum a yes, unable to form the word.

  He smirks. “Good,” he says again. “Don’t look away. Look at me.” I focus on him. “I want to see your eyes while I’m inside of you.”

  John pushes his finger inside. I instantly moan, but I keep my eyes open, locked on his.

  “Johnny,” I gasp.

  A low growl exits his throat. “Does that feel good?” he says, finger-fucking me slowly.

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

  “I know.” I cringe. “I mean—”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “You do? Because I don’t.”

  “Shh.”

  He kisses me and I instantly relax again.

  John moves in me, his finger pressing against my G-spot. I mewl and grunt and groan, my noises layered with the sound of John chuckling.

  “That’s my girl,” he says as he sucks on my earlobe.

  Holy fuck.

  “I bet you taste as good as you feel.”

  Sweet mercy.

  “Can I taste you, Rose?”

  Yes, please.

  “Rose?”

  Yes.

  “Rose?”

  Yes.

  John slides his finger out.

  I whimper. “What are you doing? Don’t stop.”

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “I’m fine. Why?”

  He laughs. “You went catatonic.”

  “I did?”

  “While great for the ego, it’s rough on the conscience,” he says. “You good?”

  “Sorry.” I take a much-needed breath. “I’m enjoying myself. Keep going.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, please. Yes to all inquires.”

  John chuckles. “Yes, Ms. Hawthorne.”

  His kiss drops to my neck, my collarbone, my chest. He reaches under my skirt, hooking my panties and pulling them down to my ankles as he lowers to the floor. Nerves trickle to the surface as I realize what I’ve said yes to, but the seduction in his gaze turns me to jelly all over again.

  I grip the throw pillow beneath my head, but it does little to the quell the shaking inside of me. Everything throbs and aches. I know the second his tongue touches my clit, I’ll come like crazy.

  John raises my skirt, then smiles.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Little freckles,” he says, following the trail with kisses along my inner thigh. “So cute.”

  I blush as he slides his hands beneath my ass and jerks me closer to the couch’s edge. The sudden motion makes me dizzy. I close my eyes to bring the room into focus, only to lose it all again the moment his tongue parts my folds. He stops just short of my clit; an aching tease.