Page 65 of First Down Promise

Abby: Pete doesn’t notice anything.

Me: He did.

Abby: We suck at this.

Me: A little bit.

If Abby and I make it in the long run, Pete will thank us later. Probably. I’m sure I check the boxes for the kind of guy he’d want her with—successful, stable, good with kids, can make her laugh, and always remembers her coffee order. That’s what I wanted for my sisters, more or less. Our dad would have wanted the same for them.

Before long, I can hear Pete’s snoring through the wall. I’ve always chosen this guest room out of respect for Pete, keeping my distance from Abby’s room because he trusts me so damn much. It’s like I’m being tugged in two different directions, but Abby will win. Whatever happens when Pete finds out, there’s no clean way through it.

Unfortunately for Pete, my life doesn’t revolve around him like he thinks it does.

I stand and gently open the bedroom door. This one doesn’t creak, but I still close it just as cautiously behind me. I release a deep breath and glance toward Pete’s room. He always keeps his door closed at night because I’m pretty sure he sleeps naked. I grimace at the thought. Ugh, definitely not the time to revisit what happened in New Orleans last season. But keeping his door closed makes sneaking around easier.

Barefoot, I step down the hall to Abby’s room. I don’t knock, and as I open the door, I find her lying on her side on the bed in a black strapless bra and matching G-string thong.

“Well, hey there,” I say with a giant smile as I softly close the door behind me.

“Hi,” she replies as I walk over to her side of the bed. The mattress dips beneath her knees as she rises to meet my standing height. She pops her bra off and lets it slip between her fingers to the floor.

“Fuck,” I groan. So much for self-control. I press my forehead to hers, and she drapes her arms around my neck. My fingers trail down her bare back, slipping under the thin straps of her thong. “You better be quiet,” I murmur against her lips.

“Likewise.”

I tighten my arms around her and brush my nose against hers. “You’re gonna get me killed.”

She presses her lips to mine, and I let any care of whose roof we’re under go right out the damn window.

Afterward, I lie next to her and press my hand to my sweaty chest as she checks her phone. My body sinks deeper into her mattress, heavy and content. I don’t want to move, but if I stay here much longer, I’m going to pass out beside her.

“I have practice in six hours,” she groans.

“You should be in a good mood for it,” I say. I smirk to myself as she rolls over to lie on me, layering her leg over mine. Her knee brushes my spent cock, and it twitches like it could take her all over again. She places her hand on my chest, and I cover it with mine.

“You’re so funny,” she replies, then yawns.

“You know I’m a dead man if your brother finds us like this,” I repeat, half-jokingly.

She lifts her head and presses her chin into my chest. “Worth it?”

“A calculated risk, for sure,” I reply.

Her shoulders shift as she silently laughs and rests her head back on my shoulder. I stare at the mirror mounted on the wall across from her bed, and even in the dim light from the lamp on her end table, we look fucking good together.

“Josh?” she quietly asks.

“Yeah?” I reply, trailing my fingers lightly over her bare shoulder.

“Am I any good at this?”

I twist my neck to look at her. “Of course you are.”

Her already flushed cheeks flare redder. “I’m just so new,” she mumbles, avoiding my eyes.

“Am I any good?” I tease.

“They don’t call you The Stallion for nothing.”