On the Sideline (BSU Football Book 3)

by JB Salsbury

  Loren

  I’m on a study break. What are you up to?

  I send the text then check the time. Nine o’clock on Thursday. I haven’t seen Riley much at all this week except for a couple times on campus. We met at the café for a coffee but it was short between classes. I figure with the weekend coming up I should probably make some plans with her. After I screwed up last weekend’s plans to take our casual kissing to the next level, it would only make sense that this weekend would be my chance to make it up to her.

  My phone pings with an incoming text and an image. I tap the screen and am met with an image of Riley’s long, toned legs wet with bathwater in candlelight and bubbles barely covering the place where her thighs meet. I zoom in on the image, are those rose petals floating on the water?

  Having a self-care night.

  I type back. What’s Bex up to? Then delete it. Here I have this beautiful woman sending me sexy photos and I’m going to ask her about her cousin? Dick move. I mull over how to respond and then make a quick decision and hit send.

  Want to hang out this weekend?

  Hang out? Ball up and ask her on a date, asshole! She’s expecting sex this weekend and you haven’t even taken her out.

  Do I want to have sex with her? Am I serious enough about my feelings for Riley that I’d want to take that next step? Last weekend I would’ve said absolutely yes. Now, I’m not so sure. But why?

  What did you have in mind?

  I type out my response and hit send.

  We could watch a movie at your place?

  I’m sick of the house, I need a break. How about your place?

  My shoulders deflate a little, but it’s the smarter move. If I’m in her room I’ll be wondering what Bex is doing, wondering what she thinks I’m doing, wishing I could watch her wrestle with all that sexy fucking hair while getting ten kinds of hot and bothered simply because I’m watching her. I groan and grip my junk to make my quickly tightening jeans more comfortable.

  “You’re fucking, crazy,” I mumble to myself in the privacy of my room while a fantasy of Bex at the surf shop unravels behind my eyes. Her leaning across the glass display, full lips parted and those pale brown eyes begging me to touch her. I’d sit her on the counter, stand between her legs and kiss her. My palms tingle as I imagine the weight of her breasts in my hands. A shiver races through me as I fantasize about feeling her soft nipples turning hard under my touch. I’d beg her to touch me too. Her hands would shake as she slipped them up my shirt—no, I’d take my shirt off. I’d need to feel the heat of her soft, warm body pressed against me. Our kiss would become frenzied, wet, and I’d lick down her throat to her—my phone pings.

  “Shit.” My heart is racing and what do you know, my hand is still between my legs, but this time behind my open zipper. “What am I doing?” I snag my phone and read Riley’s reply.

  I could spend the night. Wink

  Sex with Riley. I run the scenario through my mind, frustrated that it lacks the vivid imagery and responding arousal. The best thing I can do is forget about Bex. My life was just fine before I accidently wound up in her bed. And she tried to have me attacked by a snake! Have I so easily forgotten the hell she put me through that night?

  I know what I need to do. I text my response and hit send before I can change my mind.

  Saturday night. I’ll pick you up at six.

  I release a shaky breath, fasten my jeans, and open my econ book, all while telling myself that sleeping with Riley is the right thing to do to silence my gut that tells me it’s not.

  Chapter Five

  Loren

  Friday night and Kaipo and I called an impromptu guys night out. Spider and Carey are surgically attached to their women’s hip and since football season ended we’ve seen very little of them. Not that I blame them; if I had an all I could eat buffet in my bed, I’d never leave either.

  Still, to maintain proper levels of testosterone, we insisted on dragging them out for a night of sports and scantily clad waitresses. The campus sports bar is packed and all sixty big screen TVs are playing everything from boxing to bowling. We just annihilated every deep fried appetizer on the menu as well as five pitchers of IPA.

  Carey leans back from the table, lifts his arms above his head for the halftime stretch. “Didn’t we order potato skins?”

  I point to the empty plate in front of Kaipo while chewing the last of a chicken wing. “We ate ‘em.”

  Carey waves down our waitress. “We need another round.”

  Spider shoves a full pitcher of beer his way.

  “Not beer. Food.” He turns to the waitress. “We’ll take another order of all this.” He motions to the table. “Please.”

  “Don’t you ever get full?” I rub my gut feeling like a stuffed turkey. “I can’t eat anymore.”

  Kaipo raises a hand. “I’m game.” He whirls his finger in a circle. “’Nother round.”

  Spider shrugs. “We’ve got until midnight, may as well keep eating.”

  I push my plate away, grab my beer, and slump back in my seat watching a replay of the Monaco versus Manchester City soccer game. “What happens at midnight? You return your balls to Emery or they turn into pumpkins?”

  Kaipo chuckles. “Naw, cousin, she has those locked up real good. He’s never getting those back.”

  Carey swoops in to save his fellow pussy-whipped friend. “Emery and Ro are having some kind of girls night in. A moonbathing party or some shit. Frosty drinks, Bob Marley, and the hot tub.” A slow smile pulls his lips and it doesn’t take much to decipher the reason for his excitement. His woman buzzed and wet and warm, I get it. Fucking asshole.

  “They made us promise we’d give them till midnight,” Spider says, his eyes on the soccer game too.

  “It’s ten o’clock. What the hell do women do just hanging out for four hours?” Paint each other’s nails, braid hair? Emery and Rowan live and work together, you’d think they’d have nothing left to talk about.”

  Carey’s eyes dart to mine. “You ever see the three of them run out of shit to talk about?” He shakes his head.

  “The three of…” My eyes widen as realization hits me in the beer buzz. Rowan, Emery, and Bex. Grateful my roommates are distracted by the game, they don’t see my change from casual to alert. Bex is at my house, in my pool, wearing… I swallow thickly at the images that flicker through my mind. I squeeze my eyes closed and push away the thoughts of Bex’s bare legs wrapped around my waist as I pin her against the side of the pool.

  Riley. Riley. Riley.

  “Ro’s a lightweight.” Carey still watches the game. “Bet they’re all passed out cold.”

  Spider grunts in agreement.

  “Hmm.” I clear my throat, take a long pull from my beer and try to act casual. “That’s true actually.” I take another gulp of beer. “Remember what happened the last time Emery drank two wine coolers.”

  Spider and Kaipo make eye contact and I swear I see Kaipo shiver. I try not to smile at how my words delivered their intended purpose.

  “He’s right,” Kaipo says. “If the cops had found her before we did—”

  “She wouldn’t have gone through with it.” Spider doesn’t sound like he believes his own words.

  We all drink our beer to keep from being honest with him, not that we need to, he knows he’s full of shit. She had a gallon of gas and a lighter when we caught up to her outside of her dad’s house.

  He shifts in his seat, clears his throat, and then finally reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his card. “I’ll get the tab.”

  Kaipo waves down the waitress. “I’ll get our food to go.”

  “Probably best,” Carey says and downs what’s left of his pint.

  I smile into my beer and finish it off. A burst of excitement in my stomach, adrenaline maybe, the same feeling I get before a big game, has me anxious to get up and move. I’m going to see Bex tonight. And Riley tomorrow. I frown. The chicken wings and mozzarella sticks churn in my gut. />
  No, I won’t make myself sick about this. I’m committed to exploring things with Riley. But that doesn’t mean I can’t also get excited about seeing Bex.

  This is the lie I tell myself the entire Uber ride home.

  Bex

  “This is awesome,” Rowan says from her spot across the hot tub from me. “We totally have to turn moonbathing parties into a regular thing.”

  I slurp down the rest of my Piña Colada and set my glass aside. “I agree.”

  “We should do it every full moon.” Emery takes a bite of the pineapple garnish from her empty glass.

  Rowan scrunches up her nose. “How often is—”

  “Every twenty-nine point five days,” I answer then want to kick myself for sounding like a know it all. My mom’s words filter through my skull, just because you know the answer doesn’t mean you have to say it. She was always trying to dumb me down around boys. Men don’t like women who are smarter than them. I roll my eyes to the stars and then linger there looking at them. “Did you know the lunar cycle has an affect on the hormones of animals?”

  “What kind of effects?” Emery asks.

  I drag my eyes, a little lazy from the booze, to hers. “It makes them horny.”

  Rowan snorts and Emery grins.

  “There’s no way it doesn’t have the same affect on humans, I mean, we’re animals too.” I push up out of the hot tub to sit on the edge of the deck, keeping my feet in the water. “I’m going to do an experiment.”

  “Oh, fun! I love experiments.” Rowan pops out of the water too, and Emery wordlessly follows.

  “Let’s test the hypothesis that moonbathing releases sexy hormones.” I brace my hands behind me, lean back, and tilt my chin up. “Let’s actively soak up the moonlight for five minutes and see if it makes us feel any different.”

  “I’ll set the timer,” Emery says through her laughter.

  “You guys have to really try, okay?”

  Rowan’s expression is all business as if she’s been given the Yang-Mills existence and mass gap equation to solve.

  “Timer’s on. Go!” Emery says.

  We all assume a chest open and up position with our feet still dangling in the water, eyes closed. I giggle at how ridiculous we probably look, but the rum drinks help to numb any embarrassment. These are the kinds of things I can’t do with my sorority sisters. They’d call me a nerd and tease me relentlessly. Rowan and Emery always welcome my insane ideas and embrace me for me. I don’t have to pretend around them.

  “Feel anything yet?” Emery asks.

  “I think so, but that could be the alcohol,” Rowan answers.

  I focus on my body, my breasts, my lower belly, and gauge any changes I might feel. “I’m getting light headed, does that count?”

  We all burst into a fit of laughter, tears forming in our eyes for some reason. Emery’s timer goes off and makes us laugh even harder. I drop to my back and cover my face while Rowan and Emery’s laughter turns to near-silent wheezing.

  “Looks like we found the party!”

  Every bit of hilarity dies in an instant at the sound of Carey’s voice. I scurry to sit up but the liquor makes me more uncoordinated than usual so I feel like a turtle trying to get off it’s back.

  “Why are you here?” Rowan asks in mock outrage even though the happiness at seeing her man is clear in her voice. “Is it already midnight?”

  Carey squats down beside her and presses a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Yep.”

  “No it’s not,” Emery accuses after looking at her phone. She glares at her husband as he crosses the pool deck toward her. “What are you doing here?”

  He toes off his shoes and straddles her from behind, dipping his legs into the water and soaking his jeans. He wraps his arms around her and nuzzles her throat. “I missed you too much to stay away.”

  I roll my eyes at the adorable connection between them.

  “He’s lying, Em!” Kaipo pulls his shirt off showcasing his massive upper body before joining us in the hot tub with a splash. “He was worried about you, you know, because of what happened last time.”

  Emery nods. “That’s reasonable.”

  I spot the stack of towels on the far side of the yard near the back door, right under the patio light. I try to decide if I’m safer here in the dark with my arms crossed over the bare skin of my stomach, or if I should make a run for a towel and risk being caught under the spotlight. At least Loren isn’t here. Maybe he’s with Riley? I burp up pineapple and coconut flavor. I still hate to be in a bikini in front of three incredibly fit football players, dammit, why didn’t they give us a warning they were on their way?

  “Make room for one more.”

  Noooo! My body tingles with awareness at hearing Loren’s voice. The slap of his bare feet against the deck grows closer and I coil to spring and retreat. He stops right next to me and lowers himself to sit right beside me.

  My flight instinct has me on my feet in less than a second. A wave of dizziness washes over me and I hope to God I don’t face plant because it will take more than vertigo to slow me down.

  “Bex, wait!” Rowan calls to my staggering, hasty retreat. “Where are you going?”

  “It’s late. I should get home.” I make it to the stack of towels but am now stuck directly under a six million watt spotlight. Cover up, and I’m in the clear. I whip a towel off the stack, but in my hurry drop it. You have got to be kidding me! I squat to pick it up rather than bend over because no matter which way I turn I’ll either be showing my ass or my tits. Squatting is always better.

  “I’ll get her,” a male voice says, and I refuse to name who the voice belongs to.

  I try not to make it look like I’m running as I throw open the sliding glass door and step into the house. The kitchen is lit up like a midday cloudless sky and I wonder why it didn’t seem this bright when we were in here earlier making drinks.

  “Bex, hold up.” Loren’s voice is right behind me. He grabs my shoulder and I freeze. He whips his hand away as if he didn’t actually mean to touch me. “What’s the rush?” he says through a chuckle.

  Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Wait, why would I cry? Loren is my cousin’s boyfriend. I should not worry about what he thinks about me in a swimsuit. And I’m covered in a towel so… I exhale and put on a smile before turning around.

  “Oh, Loren! Hey!” I grip my towel at my chest tightly with both hands. “Wassup?”

  He raises his brows and his grin widens. “Sorry about breaking up your girls night.”

  I bat at the air between us. “Psht, don’t be. We were done.” I point over my shoulder. “I’m just going to get changed and get an Uber.”

  “You don’t have to leave. Hang out with us for a bit.”

  My gaze drops to his swim trunks and then to his feet. “Oh my God, really?”

  “What?” There is worry in his voice.

  I shove an accusing hand toward his toes. “Is there any part of you that’s ugly?”

  He looks down at his feet then back up to me. “You like my feet?”

  “Please tell me you get athletes foot six months out of the year.”

  His lips tick. “No.”

  “Warts from the communal shower?”

  He’s grinning wider now. “Never.”

  “Never?”

  “I broke my pinkie toe in tenth grade.” He wiggles his littlest piggy. “Stepped on by Cassius our pig.”

  “You had a pet pig?”

  “A few actually. And chickens, horses, a mule. I grew up on a farm in Tennessee.”

  “I thought I heard a little accent.”

  “There’s not much left of it.” His light eyes slip from my face to my bare shoulder and slide along my collarbone to my neck.

  A shiver races up my spine.

  “You’re cold.” He looks through my eyes as if he’s searching for the answer to a question.

  “I am, I need to get changed.” I need to get out of here. I should not be standing in the kitchen
with the guy my cousin is dating having the kind of thoughts I’m having.

  He steps back, releasing me from an invisible hold.

  I whirl around and race up the stairs grabbing my bag I left in Emery and Spider’s room and taking it to the bathroom in the hallway. I close the door, lock it, then lean my back against it and try to catch my breath.

  Loren

  For the first time in the three years I’ve lived in this house, I’m grateful my room is directly across the hallway from the bathroom. Bex locked herself inside seven and a half minutes ago, and I’ve been sitting on my bed, elbows to my knees watching the doorknob, waiting for her to come out.

  I know if I don’t, she’ll slip out the front door without so much as a goodbye, and I don’t want that. I need to walk her out, see her safely into an Uber, and if it were up to me, I’d like to know she got back to her room safely. I know I can’t ask for these things, she’s not mine to protect, but she is Riley’s cousin, and what kind of a man would I be if I didn’t ensure her safety.

  The bathroom door opens, and I launch off the bed toward her and thankfully slow my pace before she looks up and sees me too eager. She’s wearing plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt that is cut smaller to fit her feminine curves. Not nearly as sexy as the swimsuit she was wearing when I first spotted her at the hot tub. I watched her out the window from my room while I slipped on my swim trunks. She looked like a 1950’s pinup model with the high waisted bikini bottoms and the strapless bustier-style top. She has a body designed by God to meet a man’s every desire.

  Not that I care.

  I’m just making the observation.

  “Were you waiting for me out here?” she says when she spots me in the hallway.

  “Yes, I wanted to give you something before you go.”

  Her breath hitches ever so slightly, causing me to wonder what she thinks I’m about to give her.