The QB Bad Boy and Me

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The QB Bad Boy and Me Page 25

by Tay Marley


  It was abrupt and intense, and I melted into him despite being pushed up against a freezing-cold car. We kissed a kiss that made up for the winter-break absence, and when his mouth left mine, I felt breathless. And it had nothing to do with the freezing temperatures.

  “Couldn’t keep waiting,” he mumbled, his smiling lips coming back in for a series of quick pecks. “Missed you.”

  “I missed you too,” I admitted. The forest of trees that surrounded his home were almost buried up to their branches in white powder. It was sprinkled on the twigs and coated the ground.

  “My baby cousins will be here soon. For dinner. You should stay.”

  “If you want me to. Is there an occasion?”

  He shrugged with an indifferent nod, kicking the snow with his foot. I watched him, admiring his fitted long sleeve, vest, and sweatpants. I wondered how he wasn’t colder. I was wearing tights, a skirt, a coat, gloves, and a hat, and I was still cold.

  I leaned down and started scooping the snow into a ball. “So,” I said in a casual tone as he began to help me with a small snowman. “We don’t have to hide at school now. I caught Emily and Lincoln . . . in the coach’s office . . .”

  Drayton raised a brow and shook his head. “I’m surprised. But not,” he commented, snapping a couple of twigs to create arms. Our snowman might not have a face at this point as we were lacking material. “She’s bold when she’s going after what she wants. Man, the texts that she used to send me.”

  He let out a low whistle and I refused to ask for details. The wince in his expression was more information than I needed. We stood up and assessed our little masterpiece. It was faceless, aside from a few finger holes that Drayton made for eyes, but it was cute. “I sort of feel bad for her.”

  Drayton wrapped an arm around me and we headed for the front door. “You feel bad for her?” His tone was disbelieving. “She’s been a huge asshole.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t understand her as well befor—”

  “Mhmm,” he interrupted. “I get it. You know her more now. You see more and you understand. All of that. I just didn’t take you for such a softie.”

  “I’m not going to let her push me around,” I declared, shuddering at the mere thought of going back to square one, where I’d felt helpless under her thumb. “But I don’t hate her. I don’t hate anyone. I just—I feel bad that she hasn’t experienced parental love and all that. I was young when my parents died, but I won’t ever forget how special it was.”

  He was quiet. The only sound was our feet crunching in the fresh snowfall and a soft breeze rustling the tree branches. He smiled and peered down at me, his arm holding me close beside him.

  “Sounds like my mom is home,” he gestured with a subtle nod toward the drive behind us as we walked up the front steps. The stone was slippery, so we were careful. I guessed the incident with Emily had taken up more time than I’d thought, and we no longer had the house to ourselves. “We can watch a movie, eat food, and I can play with your hair?”

  He’d come to discover that I was weak for people playing with my hair. Before we could go inside, though, headlights illuminated the snow and a white Mercedes with tinted black windows pulled in beside my dinky little car. His mom hopped out. She was stunning, as usual, the epitome of winter grace in a midlength cashmere coat and a matching set of gloves, hat, and scarf.

  “Dray,” she called, “come and help me with the groceries, please.”

  Drayton sauntered toward her, so I followed along, figuring that I’d offer my assistance.

  “Hello, Dallas,” she greeted me with a chipper smile. I hadn’t seen her since Thanksgiving. After she’d found out about Drayton hitting Austin, she’d let him have it in front of the entire dinner party. “How have you been darlin’? I’m not in a foul mood this time. Unless Drayton here has been doing something he shouldn’t.”

  She raised a brow toward her son, who was currently leaning into the trunk of the car. He rolled his eyes and proceeded to pick up the entire ten bags with ease.

  “On the straight and narrow, Mom.” He grinned as she closed the trunk.

  “Good,” she cooed. “Dallas, you should stay for dinner. We’re having homemade burritos for Drayton’s birthday.”

  “It’s your birthday?”

  Ellie looked at Drayton but didn’t give in to whatever confusion she was feeling, just turned around and disappeared inside. Drayton and I followed behind her.

  “My birthday is next week,” he explained. “We celebrate early because my mom and dad go away on the actual day.”

  “Your parents won’t be here for your birthday?”

  “I haven’t spent my birthday with my parents since Abby died.” Sorrow filled my chest and I watched as he toed off his boots at the door, still holding the ten bags with ease. “Don’t worry about it. I obviously shared my birthday with Abby, and it’s hard for them. It doesn’t really bother me. Josh and I usually throw a party. They go away to grieve, to remember her in their own way. I like to honor Abby by getting blackout drunk, and I don’t think they want to see that.”

  We walked into the kitchen and I admired the stone theme and shimmering appliances once again. Drayton’s house never ceased to amaze me. There was a frosted cake in a glass case on the marble table. Cushioned leather barstools lined up along one side of the island. It smelled clean and cozy, like citrus and coffee.

  “Your parents are so young,” I commented, leaning on the edge of the island to look at a photo of them. Drayton set the groceries down on the other side. His mom was nowhere to be seen.

  “They are, I guess.” He shrugged a shoulder, shuffling through the bags. “They had just graduated from high school when they found out that they were pregnant. First night that they ever met. Boom.”

  “Gold medalist, huh,” I laughed.

  He dug through the groceries and found a protein bar. “Do you like burritos?”

  “Of course.” I rolled my eyes as if it was the most ridiculous question that I’d ever heard. “I’ve never had them homemade, though.”

  “My mom doesn’t do a lot of cooking,” he explained as he leaned one hand on the lip of the bench and chewed on his snack, which was in the other. “But she makes fucking awesome burritos.”

  “Language,” Ellie sang out, swiping the back of Drayton’s head as she came back into the kitchen in a more casual outfit of sweatpants and UGG boots with a warm sweater. “Where are Josh and Gabby? They were here when I left.”

  “I don’t know,” Drayton pulled some orange juice out of another bag while his mother tapped her foot impatiently behind him. “Probably pounding it out in his room.”

  “Drayton Jacob Lahey!” she shouted, giving him another swipe, which he managed to avoid as he moved toward the cabinet then pulled two glasses from the top shelf. “Don’t be foul!”

  “You asked,” he muttered, pouring a drink into each. Drayton was probably on the money, though. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was exactly what Josh and Gabby were doing.

  “Come on, babe.” Drayton picked up the glasses and signaled for me to follow him as he rounded the kitchen island and headed for the entrance. “Let’s go and stop those nymphos from making babies.”

  “Drayton!” Ellie hollered but we were already halfway up the staircase.

  I was aware that we weren’t going in search of our friends. We were going to his bedroom where the bed was made and the fire was going. I loved his room; it was a dream. He set our drinks on a bedside table and spun around, pulling me into him. His hands went south and as he grabbed my bum, his gaze became wide and his mouth popped open. “Damn, Cheer. You’re soaked. That was quick.”

  I reached around behind me and felt the back of my skirt, which was indeed wet and cold. “It’s from crouching in the snow.” I gave him a shove in the chest. He laughed.

  “Take it off,” he casually orde
red as he sauntered over to his dresser. “I think I have a pair of sweats in here that I wore when I was, like, seven. They might fit you.”

  I unzipped my skirt, thankful that my tights weren’t wet.

  “Dammit,” he mumbled, pushing clothes from left to right. “No pants. This hoodie might be long enough, though.”

  I stripped off my shirt as he turned around with one of his football hoodies in hand. When his sights landed on me standing beside his bed in tights and a bra, his gaze lingered on my chest and then it moved, slowly, up and down as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth.

  “Damn, if we were eating alone tonight, I’d be having your burrito for dinner.”

  “You are too damn smooth.”

  He grinned and tilted his head to the side as he walked forward. He handed the maroon hoodie over with a sigh of disappointment. “You’re lucky that I care about your comfort.”

  “Thanks.” I pulled the hoodie over my head. It smelled like him—masculine but fruity. There was a very real chance that he wouldn’t be getting this back anytime soon. “It’s huge.”

  “Why, thank you.” He winked. “So I’ve been told.”

  “You can’t be stopped.”

  “Nope. It looks good.”

  The number on the back was his 18, and Lahey was written across the shoulders in big, bold letters.

  “I’m keeping this by the way,” I told him as I sat on the edge of his bed.

  He knelt in front of me. “Is that so? Going to sleep in it every night?”

  “Maybe.”

  His hands slid up my legs, tantalizing and slow, as he went higher.

  “Would it be weird if I got a little jealous over that hoodie,” he mumbled with a low voice, getting up and trapping me between his arms. He leaned over me so that I had to fall back onto the mattress.

  “No, not weird.” I barely managed to finish my sentence before his mouth met mine and his tongue pried my lips apart. He reached back and his hand gripped behind my knee as he pulled my leg up so that it was wrapped around his waist. He lowered his hips onto mine and I gasped at his hardness. His kiss became rougher and one hand slipped under the hoodie, grazing my skin.

  “Oh sheesh, you two,” Josh’s voice chortled from the door. We broke our kiss but Drayton kept his position, hovering between my legs as he glanced to the side where Gabby and Josh stood. “Get a room.”

  “We’re in a room,” Drayton bit back. “Get out.”

  “Mom wants your help with dinner,” Josh said.

  “You go and help her.”

  “I am,” Josh replied. “She wants us both downstairs. She was very specific.”

  “That’s probably because I told her you and Gabby were making babies in your room.”

  Drayton huffed with a pout but got up and helped me to my feet. As disappointing as it was to be interrupted, I tried to calm down and stop the throbbing between my legs. It wasn’t as if we could have gone further in a full house anyway. The four of us headed downstairs. Drayton kept his arm around my shoulder. It felt safe being tucked beside him.

  “You know,” I said as I peered up at him, “you made this sound like a casual thing. Why didn’t you tell me it was a birthday dinner? I would have come more prepared.”

  He leaned forward and looked me over. “You look like a main course to me,” he grinned. “For real. That hoodie looks good on you. We should skip dinner.”

  “Ow!” he exclaimed as I nudged him in the side. “I didn’t want to scare you. You’re so anticommitment. I thought you’d freak out.”

  “Fair enough. Don’t stress about that though, tell me next time.”

  He wore a surprised but pleased smile as we walked into the kitchen and found Ellie in an apron, ingredients spread across the countertop. “Where have the four of you been? I need help. And you need to keep the bedroom doors open.”

  We offered our assistance to avoid the scolding.

  “Gabby, put this on the table for me, please.” Ellie handed a stack of condiments across the kitchen island to Gabby, who proceeded to place them in the middle of the large marble dining table.

  She put Drayton and Josh to work cutting up vegetables. Honestly, I think there were more crude cucumber jokes going on than anything else. As for me, I was at the stove top, flipping the soft, homemade tortillas after Ellie had rolled them out.

  She was in the middle of explaining her business after I’d asked her about how it all came to be. “It was the plan from the get-go.” She cut off a handful of dough and threw some flour over it. “I wanted to get into skin care from the time that I was young. My mom and dad weren’t that supportive, but that’s a whole other story, we’re only just on speaking terms again. Anyway. After I got pregnant, I moved in with Leroy’s parents—sweetest people ever—and they actually left me a small-business starter fund in their will.”

  “Sounds like they really believed in you,” I said, watching her wipe some flour off her cheek with the back of her hand.

  “They were wonderful people,” she said as she nodded, her expression distant. “The name of the brand, L.E. Skincare, was a play on my name—it sounds like Ellie. It’s mine and Leroy’s initials and it’s Leroy’s mother’s initials. Eleanor Lahey. I managed to work all of the importance in there.”

  I flipped the tortilla in the pan and smiled. “That’s so nice. And clever. I’ll have to get some of the products. Are they online?”

  “Don’t be silly,” she responded in that southern accent of hers. “I’ll give you a cleansing set. We can figure out your skin type after dinner.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. The products are affordable anyway. When I was growing up, we struggled financially, a lot. I wanted a decent skin-care set to be accessible to people who didn’t make a lot of money.”

  “She also donates a ton of her products to refuge centers and shelters, right, Mom?” Drayton towered over her and kissed her cheek. “She’s big into charities too.”

  Ellie blushed and gave her son a pat on the shoulder. It was sweet to watch. Their family had experienced so much pain, losing a sister and daughter. I knew how loss felt, so it was heartwarming to see what a tight unit they were. How much love, care, and respect existed here. It was a stark difference to the Drayton that I’d met all those months ago.

  “Hello,” a masculine voice greeted us, and I turned around to find Leroy strolling into the kitchen. “There are a lot of teenagers in here.”

  “It’s Drayton’s birthday dinner, Leroy.” Ellie grinned while she power grated through a block of cheese. “You know Dallas and Gabby of course.”

  He slipped out of his designer suit jacket to reveal a fitted shirt that accentuated his large shoulders and massive arms. Good bodies must have run in the family. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

  “Oh please,” Ellie scoffed. “I wasn’t going to host the entire football team. It’d cost us a small fortune in food.”

  “Probably for the best after what happened the last time Drayton’s team members were here.” Leroy gave his son an amused but disapproving stare as he headed for the fridge and retrieved a beer. Drayton shrugged.

  Josh and Gabby were sitting on a small two-seater sofa beside the floor-to-ceiling glass patio doors at the end of the kitchen, and I was about to join them when we heard a cluster of footsteps, the door closing, and a sing song of hellos from the front passage before Cass and two children appeared.

  “Hey, Cass,” Ellie rounded the kitchen island and took the bottle of wine that Cass held out. She pecked Cass’s cheek and greeted the two young children. I recognized Coen but I hadn’t met the little girl. She was a spitting image of her mother, with tight ringlets and bright-blue eyes. Two of her front teeth were missing as well. She must have been around seven, and it

  was obvious that she was going to be a heartbreaker when

&
nbsp; she was older.

  Cass said hello to Leroy before she gave Gabby and Josh a quick wave. I took the last tortilla out of the frying pan and added it to the plate in the warming oven, proud of myself for completing such an important task. It wouldn’t be dinner without the tortillas. Drayton laced our fingers together and we strolled over to the other side of the island where he embraced his aunt in a one-armed hug, still keeping his grip on my hand.

  “Hello, you two.” Her smile was warm. She slipped an envelope into his hand. “How are you both? Good to see you again, Dallas.”

  Drayton dropped the envelope onto the countertop without opening it.

  “When did you meet Dallas?” Ellie asked with furrowed brows as she dropped a package of ground beef into a frying pan.

  The three of us exchanged wide-eyed, cautionary glances. Drayton’s parents were aware of our away-game antics, but we hadn’t gone into specifics about what we had actually got up to. Drayton was usually so quick with his wit that I’d expected him to cover for us, but he was at a loss for words.

  “At the away game,” Cass finally answered with a convincing smile. “In Fort Collins. I went and watched the game. That’s where I met her.”

  “You went and watched a varsity football game?” Leroy questioned her with an arched brow and a doubtful tone. “Since when do you watch varsity football?”

  “Since it was my nephew playing, and I was being supportive.”

  Cass smiled a that-was-close grin and changed the subject. “How are things between you,”—her eyes flickered toward our joined hands—“two who are ‘just friends.’”

  “Things have changed a little since then,” Drayton declared with pride. I glanced up to find him regarding me with an affectionate gaze and, as always, my response to his adoring looks was an erratic heartbeat and an eruption of flutters in the pit of my stomach.

  Our moment was adorably interrupted by a little Coen, who was bouncing up and down with outstretched arms and twinkling fingers. “Dray-Dray!”

  “Hey, little dude.” Drayton scooped the toddler up and perched him comfortably on his forearm. Coen wrapped his arm around Drayton’s neck and grinned with significantly greater energy than he’d had the last time I’d met him. The young girl, who’d been quietly chatting to Leroy, skipped toward us with a small grin.

 

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