Page 27 of First Down Promise

Abby in the morning is usually a don’t talk to me until I’ve had coffee type, and jogging at seven is highly suspicious.

After she disappears, I glance at Dane, who is eating an open-faced bagel. Normal. Dane wouldn’t have called Abby out if he was messing around with her, and he’s been outspoken about his preference for dark brunettes over lighter hair colors, anyway. I look to my left at Coop, wolfing down a loaded bagel sandwich-style. Also, normal. But that Southern gentle giant would never do anything sneaky, especially to his quarterback. It’s in his blood as a center to protect Pete, who has to trust him with his life on the field.

Me?

“Why are you denying yourself me?”

It could have been a dream.

I drop my gaze to the half-eaten bagel in front of me. Abby flashes through my mind. The door creaking open, spilling moonlight into the room before closing behind her. Her thigh brushing against mine, long hair cascading over her shoulder.

“Why are you denying yourself me?”

But it wouldn’t have stopped there if it were all a dream. I peel my eyes shut, blocking out reality.

I grazed the side of her neck and finally crashed my lips onto hers. My tongue found hers, and I shifted over her, tucking her beneath me. My fingers traced up her side, under her satin top.

“I want you, Josh,” she panted after pulling her lips from mine.

Sadly, that part didn’t happen, regardless of whether it was real or just a dream.

“Kenzie!”

I blink out of it. “What?” I ask.

“You okay?” Pete replies.

“Yeah, just hungover.”

His hazel eyes flare, but he shifts his attention to Coop. There was no way I was fantasizing about his little sister in front of him. Oh, my fucking God, am I hallucinating that she visited my room last night?

After we finish our bagels and coffee, Coop heads out first, followed by Dane and me. I don’t see Abby again before we leave, which isn’t a surprise after Dane humiliated her in front of us.

Walking out of Pete’s house with Dane, I squint at the brutal morning light and reach into my pocket for my truck key. “What’s up with you?” he asks.

“Just drank too much last night,” I reply. “You know, you didn’t have to say that about Abby.”

He unlocks his Range Rover and turns to face me. “What?”

“Asking if she got laid.”

Dane chuckles. “I knew she didn’t.”

“Then, why say that in front of her brother? You know how Pete gets about her,” I snap.

“It was just a joke, Josh. Since when do you care?”

I open the truck’s door. “Never mind.”

“See you at practice,” Dane adds, ducking into his car.

I nod and slam the door of my truck. I rest my forehead against the top of my steering wheel, pressing the hard, warmed leather into my skin. I’ve got to hammer out whatever this is with Abby. I look up and notice her white SUV through the windows of the garage door again—an agonizing reminder of how she’s always so close yet so damn far.

Driving back to my house from Pete’s is practically muscle memory, and I’m pulling into my driveway before it registers I’m home. I let myself in with one priority in mind: showering.

Entering the private hallway to my room, I drop yesterday’s clothes in my closet and walk into the bathroom. I turn the shower on and glance at myself in the mirror while the hot water starts. My hair is a mess, my mouth is dry, and I have darkness under my eyes. Today needs to be a recovery day, starting with all the water I can consume and maybe with a light workout later if I’m up to it.

The mirror fogs up, so I slip into the shower, closing the glass shower door behind me. Rinsing the shampoo from my hair, the bathtub next to the shower catches my eye. The tub wasn’t built for a frame like mine, but Abby would fit perfectly. I envision her honey hair cascading over one end of the bathtub, her ankles crossed at the other. I lean against the glass wall covered in cool water droplets. I could see her holding a glass of wine in one hand and a book in the other.