11
KEELY
Two days after that fateful party and I was still busy getting moved in. Or, well, I was mostly moved in, and I’d be totally moved in if it weren’t for having to rely on my brother and his truck to pick up my new furniture.
I was sitting on the front steps of my new place, phone in hand, waiting for him to pick up. And waiting. And waiting.
Groaning, I glared at the phone.
“What the hell, Kingston?” I muttered. He’d promised me he could help me move and now he wasn’t answering his phone. Ridiculous. I knew I should have just hired a moving truck, but he insisted it was a waste of money and that our mom would flay him alive if she found out he couldn’t help his only sister move.
I dialed him again, and after two rings, he actually answered.
“Hey Key, it’s kind of a bad time,” he said quickly, sounding out of breath.
“Did you forget you’re supposed to be helping me pick up my furniture today?” I asked, my free hand balling into a fist.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
“Damn it, King. They charge three hundred bucks a day for storage after today. I knew I should have just hired someone.”
“No, no, no,” he said quickly. Then he sighed. “Look, I’ve got practice today. Come down to the field and we’ll head straight out afterwards, deal?”
I wrinkled my nose, but knew I didn’t really have much of a choice. “Yeah, okay. How long is this practice thing supposed to take?”
“Couple hours tops. Besides, there’s lots of eye candy for you.”
I snorted. “Like you wouldn’t sabotage any attempt I made at a guy.” Not that I was really interested in meeting someone new. I’d already had enough of that for one lifetime, thank you very much. Sleeping with those two guys at the party had been way outside of my normal comfort zone and I felt like I really needed to reassess how I’d gotten there.
But even the memory of those guys sent tingles flooding southward and my hands clenched involuntarily.
“I’m a big brother, that’s my job,” he said defensively.
“Wish you cared as much about the heavy lifting part of your job,” I grumbled.
“I’m sorry, okay? I’ve got a lot going on right now. I promise we’ll get your stuff right after practice. It won’t be the worst thing in the world. Besides, you haven’t seen me play since high school, have you?”
“You know football’s never been my thing.”
He chuckled. “Just come.”
“Okay, okay, I am, yeesh,” I said, heading back inside to grab my stuff. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
The call ended and I hopped in my car, typing the address for the stadium into my GPS. I parked where there were some other vehicles and slipped into the stands without anyone taking notice of me. It was weird, I’d have thought that these kinds of things would have more security, but then again, Hamilton Village wasn’t exactly huge like some of the other college towns. Guess they didn’t think it was necessary.
The field was already littered with players doing drills and running here and there. I picked a spot in the stands that gave me a good view but didn’t put me front and center, and just watched.
I didn’t know what the hell Kingston was talking about with eye candy — every guy was bulked out with pads and helmets that made identifying them impossible. The tight pants were nice, I guess, but I was never really much of an ass girl. I’d always had a thing for arms and shoulders, big muscular arms to hold me, to carry me, to support me while powerful hips fucked me hard against a wall…
I blushed, shoving that thought out of my head. So yeah, I had been fantasizing about other ways my two lovers could take me. Slow and deep, hard and fast, furious and rough… I squeezed my thighs together. Now is not the time to be turned on, Keely.
I knew it was ridiculous. I knew I’d probably never see either of them ever again. And I knew that was probably for the best. Because that reckless uninhibited girl they met wasn’t me. Not really. And they’d just be disappointed in the real me.
Not to mention I’d probably be way too much of a chicken to actually do anything with either of them again. So it was for the best that they just disappeared, that they just stayed a nice memory of an unbelievable night. But that didn’t stop my traitorous brain from coming up with fantasy after toe-curling fantasy.
So, instead of the eye candy, I tried to focus my attention on my big brother, watching him play. He was right that I hadn’t been to one of his games since he was in high school and our parents were head of the Booster Club. By the time I was freshman, I managed to convince them to leave me home alone during all the games and practices and shit. Football had always just been Kingston’s thing. I liked books. Always had. While he was outside playing with friends and learning to throw and catch a ball the right way, I was inside, reading the adventures of the Swiss Family Robinson and the romances of Jane Austen.
But truth be told, Kingston was actually a lot better at this than I remembered. I guess it made sense, since he was playing college football now, but I was legitimately impressed with how he ran the ball, breaking tackles, practically dancing down the field with fancy footwork. I had no idea my big bro had moves like those. It was kind of mesmerizing to watch a guy that big move that gracefully.
As proud as I was of my big brother’s improvement and accomplishments, I didn’t really feel super comfortable ogling him, so I turned my eyes to the rest of the team. And I was wowed by all of them. They really looked good out there. I didn’t know a ton about football, but living with Kingston meant that some of it had seeped in, through osmosis if nothing else. So I knew the basics. I knew what a play was, what a down was, I knew there were quarters, not periods, and I knew that Kingston wasn’t in charge, as much as he’d probably like to be.
That honor fell to the quarterback, a guy who seemed to exude confidence and cocky arrogance. It rippled off him like heat lines over the desert and I narrowed my eyes at him, something about the way he moved familiar.
He and Kingston were obviously close, and there was another guy in the mix — probably those best friends of King’s I never stopped hearing about — laughing and teasing with each other between practice runs. The three of them looked like a synchronized unit, moving like they knew where the other one would be without even looking, without paying attention. It was a really cool display of how much work and effort they’d put into this.
And yet, I couldn’t help but feel a little weird about watching them. I knew the guys from the party had to be out on this field somewhere — unless I was lucky enough for them to have just been friends of a player or something — but I didn’t know where. And I didn’t know if they’d recognize me.
I hoped for their sake that they didn’t, since Kingston probably wouldn’t hesitate to kick their asses and drag his friends into it too.
The shrill screech of the Coach’s whistle echoed around the stadium and marked the end of practice. Kingston whipped his helmet off right away, grinning and jogging to the sidelines to see me.
“Enjoy the show?” he asked, using the towel from his waistband to wipe sweat off his forehead.
I shrugged. “Just looked like a bunch of roided out guys shoving each other around,” I teased.
He frowned, his ego wounded, and I almost felt bad for him, but then I remembered how he used to tackle me and hold my head to the floor until I licked the carpet, and I stopped feeling bad.
“You know football’s not my thing,” I said, a little more gently. He sighed, dragging the towel through his sweat-drenched hair.
“Yeah, I know. I’m glad you came though. Little different than high school, huh?”
I snorted. “Well, you didn’t have to stop practice half-way through to chase off a family of possums, so there’s that.”
He burst out laughing. “Shit, I forgot about that. Oh, and there was the time we had problems with groundhogs and holes all over the damn field. Nearly broke my ankle.”
“I didn’t know about that,” I said, eyes wide. That kind of injury could have derailed his whole life. Suddenly, it wasn’t funny anymore.
He shrugged. “That’s what happens in a small town. I still remember having to chase the soccer team off our field. Then again, they were doing way better than we were, so maybe they deserved the field time.”
“I want you to meet a couple of my friends, Keels. My best friends. So try not to be a jerk.”
I mocked offense. “Me? A jerk? What ever would make you think I’d do that?”
“Because I know you,” he said, deadpan.
“And it has nothing to do with you being a great teacher, right?” I snickered.
“Are you calling me a jerk?”
“If the shoe fits, barfbreath.”
Kingston chuckled as his two friends jogged up to the stands, both fine specimens of hot-blooded American male. I licked my lips unconsciously and tried to plaster on a big friendly smile.
They both came to a stop at the stands, breathing a little heavily, reaching for their helmets on autopilot.
And then the helmets came off and my whole world came to a standstill.
Shit.
Shit shit shit shit SHIT.
Kingston grinned like he didn’t notice anything was amiss. Like he couldn’t tell how hard my heart was hammering, how my pulse fluttered at the base of my neck, how sweat had suddenly appeared at my hairline and on my palms. Kingston didn’t seem to see the look his friends exchanged, or my stricken look of panic. How the hell was it them? Out of all the freaking people in the world, all the people at that party, how the hell was it that the two guys I’d slept with just happened to be my brother’s best friends?
What kind of cruel joke was that?
And even as I was panicking, trying to find my escape route, my body remembered the way they each touched me, how they kissed me, how they felt filling me and making me gasp.
I swallowed, trying to shove those feelings down, hoping beyond hope that my face wasn’t giving everything away.
“This is Ryder, and Mason,” Kingston said, nodding at one of his friends, then the other. Ryder gave me a knowing smirk and Mason kept staring at me like he was seeing a mirage. Though I didn’t really blame him. I was feeling a little like I was seeing things too.
“Ryder, Mason, this is my sister Keely,” Kingston said to his friends, giving them a stern look. “Don’t make me regret introducing you to her.”
I winced at that. Sorry, big bro, I think that ship’s sailed.
It was a little late to be defending my virtue or warding them off. I’d already done pretty much the worst thing I could and somehow it’d just gotten worse thanks to who these guys were.
Fucking fantastic.