Page 43 of Puck Me Twice

“Fucking hell,” someone says behind me. “This is painful.”

“Kiss her, asshole!” someone else shouts.

Vanessa smirks up at me. “You heard him. You gonna kiss me?”

Grabbing her around the waist, I pull her into me, and she smiles as she trails her hands up my arms. She hooks her hands behind my neck, and I lower my lips to hers.

Cheers and whistles erupt behind me.

I don’t know what we are now. Are we still faking? Is this real? All I know is that when I saw her hugging Whitney, I couldn’t breathe. She’s not a possession, she doesn’t belong to anyone, but… she’s mine. Not his. Even though I know they’re friends, even though I know he would never hurt her⁠—

The kiss is much more gentle than pre-game. Coaxing apart the seam of her lips with my own, I tighten my arms around her as she drives her fingers into my hair. I let out a rumbly groan.

“Get a room!” a voice yells.

Suddenly, I remember we’re in the middle of the locker room, surrounded by my teammates, and—oh yeah—I’m naked and wearing only a towel.

Vanessa pulls back. “Good game,” she says, patting my chest.

“Thanks.”

“All right, all right, that’s enough,” Coach Turner says.

Vanessa pulls away slowly, her eyes on mine as she slides her hand down my arm like she doesn’t want to stop touching me. She squeezes my hand before she lets me go.

“Damn,” I hear someone say.

When she turns away to go into the back room with Patrice, I shake my head and head back to my locker.

Only—

The guys are staring.

Again.

“What?” I growl out, tired of the silence.

“You and Vanessa Morgan?” McKittrick says, a furrow on his brow.

I nod. “Yeah.”

“It was weird that she sat next to you on the plane,” Lewis says, looking between me and the back office curiously.

“I saw her coming out of his room in Pittsburgh,” Pope chimes in.

Fuckwad.

“So is it, like, a hook up?” Pope continues. “Is she down to fuck?”

White-hot rage burns through me. “Not you.”

“They’re together,” Andrews says from behind me. “Have been for a while.”

Over my shoulder, I glare at him. “Stay out of this.”

He shrugs. “I’ve got your back, man.”

“So it’s true?” MacGregor asks.