“That’s your plan?”
“Do you have a better one?” I cross my arms and wait. When he doesn’t have a response, I continue, “That’s what I thought. The Moons won’t be hard. Temi knows our history, and everyone else is just getting to know me.” I put the now-empty shake to my lips and slurp, trying to get more out and making tons of noise. “The Hurricanes will be harder.” He’s only been on the team for one season, but just like volleyball, spending all that time with each other primes them to get all up in your business.
“I don’t think so.” He raises his eyebrows at me, asking aquestion without asking. “People want to believe in romance. If we show it to them, they’ll believe it.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“Two for you, two for me.” I wipe the salt from my fries off my fingers on a napkin and then offer my hand to Wyatt over the table. “Deal?”
He takes my hand and shakes it. “Deal.”
I may have just agreed to the death of me.
Chapter Twelve
NASH
Warring emotions swirl within me as I step under the hot spray of the shower. I wet my hair, then lather it with shampoo.
On one hand I’m pissed at myself for how I played tonight, on the other hand I’m infatuated by the sight of Wyatt in the stands. I forgot how spoiled I was when I had him at all my home games at U.W. Every year that passes, my fondness for our college memories increase.
After I rinse the shampoo, I run the conditioner through my hair. I rinsed off in the locker room before we left, but I don’t like to wash my hair there. I need my own toiletries. While the conditioner sits for a second, I look at all the products I’ve got lined up in the shower. Just a month and a half of living here and it looks like Ulta exploded. Razor, shaving cream, body oil, hair mask…Wyatt’s body wash? I recognize the classic masculine five-in-one. He’s been buying the same brand and scent since I met him in college. It’s cool and clean and manly. I rinse out my hair, and the feeling of the conditioner running down my body has me reaching for my washcloth. I grab my regular vanilla and lavender body wash, but right before turning it over on the cloth, I pause. How nice would it be to go to bed smelling like him tonight? To get cozy under the covers and be wrapped up in the overwhelming scent of Wyatt. I wouldn’t even have to find an excuse to steal a hoodie from him. He wouldn’t suspect a thing.
I put my body wash down and pick his up. The front shows a bear with its claws out like it’s taking a swipe at you in front of a snowy forest background. Typical man shit. I pour some onto the washcloth in my palm and rub it to a lather. I close my eyes as the fragrance mixes with the shower steam and coats my whole body. With my eyes closed and his scent surrounding me, I can almost imagine that this might be what it feels like to share a shower with him. If we were actually together, would we shower platonically? Both of us washing our hair at the same time. Taking turns standing under the spray. So comfortable with each other that we aren’t fazed by nudity. It doesn’t turn sexual every time because there are so many other opportunities for sex, which we make good use of…
Well, this was a huge mistake.
Even though I’m freshly dressed and still stuffed from my burger and fries, I lie in my bed staring at the ceiling fan as it spins.
Every time I close my eyes, all I see is me arguing about the center line penetration again. I play it over and over, looking at it from every angle. I don’t know what that ref was smoking,but their foot obviously interfered with my play. I know I could have popped that ball back up.
Doesn’t matter in the States, though.
And I can’t change the past.
I roll over and hike my thigh up, trying to get comfortable.
I stare at the wall now.
My mind drifts toward Wyatt and the deal we just struck over burgers and fries. The way all good deals are made. It’s crazy, isn’t it? To think that not only could we pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend, but that it may be enough to bring this team the recognition that it deserves? That Wyatt’s presence alone will magically fill a stadium with people who, as of right now, have no idea we exist. I guess I’m just lucky that he lied to his mom and needed my help just as much as I needed his.
Wyatt, who has never told me no.
Wyatt, who kicks his friends out of the front seat because he knows I like to ride shotgun.
Wyatt, who towers over me with his dirty blonde hair and corded muscles.
Wyatt, who…is sleeping twenty feet from me. Who technically owns the bed I’m lying in wearing just my panties right now…
I need a glass of water.
I kick off the comforter and reach for an oversized t-shirt to pull over my head.
The house is dark, but not pitch black. Light from the streetlamps seep in through all the big windows, bathing the house in a warm glow, illuminating my path to the fridge.
I grab a cup out of the cabinet to the right and start filling it with water from the little dispenser.
“Nash–”