Page 85 of Hometown Halftime

Chapter thirty-five

Riley

Holy shit, I almost just came in my pants.

I shut the door to my bedroom and lean back against it. I press my palm to my cock, needing relief.

Even in my room, I feel like I can’t calm down, because there are reminders of her everywhere. Her shampoo is in the bathroom down the hall. The lavender lotion she uses sits beside the sink. The scent of the floral detergent she uses fills the laundry room.

Sitting on my bed, I lean forward, elbows on my knees, and stare at the floor while my pulse slowly tries to return to a normal pace. How did this escalate so goddamn quickly?

That kiss we just shared almost had me crossing the line.

Every time Kinsey kisses me, it feels like my entire body aches for more. And tonight was no exception. The second she moved her hips against mine, I was all too aware of how good she felt moving underneath me. Then she moaned and I swear my cock started weeping.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Fantastic, I’m still hard.

“Get a grip,” I mutter to myself.

I drop backward onto the mattress with a groan and stare up at the ceiling. How the hell am I supposed to tell her I’m a virgin? Because it’s not exactly a casual conversation.

Hey Kinsey, before this goes any farther, surprise! I’ve never actually done this before.

Sure, that will go fabulously.

It’s not that I’m ashamed of it. It’s just that when you get to my age, people assume things. Especially about me. I’m a quarterback; I lived in the football house at school. I talk to different women at the parties. Everybody just automatically assumes I’ve slept with half of Virginia by now.

Meanwhile, I nearly had a cardiac event because Kinsey rubbed against my dick for approximately four seconds.

I’ve had plenty of opportunities to have sex. All the parties, all the cleat chasers throwing themselves at me and all the other football players after games. Potential drunken hookups basically gift-wrapped and delivered straight to my room if I wanted them.

But when it eventually happens, I want sex to actually mean something. I’ve never felt the right connection, and with my last girlfriend, she didn’t seem to care if we did it or not. Then, once we broke up, there was too much pressure coming at me in all the other parts of my life.

And now I’m twenty-two years old, lying in bed one floor above the hottest woman I’ve ever met while trying not to spiral because I desperately want her and have absolutely no idea how she’s going to react once she realizes how inexperienced I actually am.

Because Kinsey is confident, beautiful, and seems so damn secure in her sexuality in the small stolen moments we’ve had. The thought should probably make me want to slow things down. Instead, all it does is make me want her more.

“I’m telling you right now,” Darren says from the recliner, “that shake looks like swamp water.”

Lee takes another sip of the bright green liquid from the blender bottle. “Your body fears nutritional excellence.”

“My body fears death from a green drink.”

I snort while dropping onto the couch in their living room. Lee and Darren have been roommates since graduation, and the place looks the same as it always has. Sports memorabilia hangs everywhere. Video game controllers are scattered across the coffee table. The fridge contains only beer and a couple of items that would actually qualify as food.

Normally hanging out here relaxes me, but tonight my brain is still stuck on Kinsey lying beneath me moaning.

Lee notices my expression first.

“You look weird,” he says.

Darren points at me. “He does.”

“Stop telling me I look weird,” I say defensively.

“No,” Lee says slowly, lowering the blender bottle. “This is a different weird.”

I lean back deeper into the couch cushions. “Bullshit.”