FOURTEEN
“Is this because I wouldn’t let you kiss me last night? Did I give you blue balls?” I ask, panting, hands on my knees, sucking back air like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. I lift my head to look up at that stupid silver whistle dangling from Jesse’s lips, and I have a traitor thought: s**t, he looks hot like that.
No! I’m supposed to be living and breathing football right now.
Stop that, brain. Focus.
Doesn’t he look fetching in his joggers? All tight around his legs and thighs?
God, I’m staring, actually staring at his legs, l*****g my lips. I shake my head and concentrate on getting my breathing rate back under control, and if my heart decides to skip a few beats as he comes closer, well, that’s not my fault. It’s totally his. Obviously. It’s like he made the effort to d
