Page 89 of Studs Up
Nolan’s eyes slid to me.
“Dick. Head.”
I snorted. Before I could open the door, Nolan pushed me against the wall and kissed me. Alex was inches away from the truth and had no idea.
He banged on the door again. I put a hand on his chest and pushed him back, swallowing hard.
“Just a minute,” I called back.
“Come on, let’s go.” Alex’s impatience was evident in his tone.
“I don’t like your friend,” Nolan grunted.
“He’s a good guy,” I said. I ran my fingers through his hair, fixing the disheveled flow of the strands.
“He’s a fucking cock block is what he is.”
“Please tell me Reed didn’t murder you in there,” Alex called and pounded on the door again.
“Put your grumpy face on,” I gave his cheek a pat and opened the door.
“I always have my grumpy face on,” he muttered.
When we got back to the hotel, crawling into bed with him was better than the sex. He wrapped me up, and I got a whole night’s sleep for the first time in weeks.
Nolan
We tied Costa Rica in Austin and flew to Nashville to play Mexico.
I was finding it harder and harder to keep control of myself in public. All I wanted to do was touch him and be near him. I never broached the line, ever. I never stopped being exactly what I had always been to him, and he reciprocated in kind.
I had gotten a couple of questions from Coach and Morales about our lack of angry fighting. We were at a place of irritated bickering, a marked improvement in both their eyes.
I let Holden set the pace of our behavior outside the room. He would never trust me if I broke our unspoken rules.
“Maybe we should play nice,” he suggested sheepishly as we brushed our teeth.
“We are playing nice,” I said and spit.
“Publicly.”
I wiped my mouth and eyed him.
“You sure you want to do that?”
“We aren’t arguing as much anymore, and people will start to notice. Maybe we should look like we’re getting along.”
“It’s stressing you out, isn’t it? Keeping up the rivalry thing?”
He looked away from the mirror. He may not be having nearly as many panic attacks now, but the anxiety was still there.
“We can’t continue to hate each other. We’re playing together and having great seasons; if we start looking like we’re friends, it might take some scrutiny off. Besides, it would make Mirren happy.”
“Ah yes,” I dropped my toothbrush into its little case and snapped it shut. “I live to make Coach Mirren happy.”
He snorted and rolled his eyes. It was so fucking cute. All the things that used to irritate me were now the parts of him I couldn’t get enough of.
I reached for him, taking his hand and pulling him in.
