Pretty Boy D by Rachel Jonas

20

Joss

My fingers have barely curled around the brush handle when I’m startled by a knock. Placing it down on the bathroom counter, I open the door and lay eyes on Dane wearing only his towel, flashing a half-grin that brings a surge of heat to my face.

“Sorry to bug you, but I overslept and just need to hop in the shower,” he says.

I don’t miss how his eyes sweep over me like I’m prey, like he’d consume me if I’d only give him permission. His gaze drifts lower, from where only a black sports bra covers my breasts, to my exposed torso, to the tight cheer shorts that leave little to the imagination. He made it clear that my ass is one of his favorite things about me physically, so it doesn’t surprise me when his head tilts ever so slightly and he focuses there.

“I’ll be done with my hair in just a few, or will it make you late to wait?”

The dense muscles in his chest jump when he laughs—soft, deep.

“Actually, I can just slip in while you finish up,” he suggests. “I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

I breathe deep again and want to play it cool, calm, and collected, so I force a smile that feels awkward, and probably looks it, too.

“Uh… sure,” I answer, forcing my eyes toward the mirror and away from him.

“Cool. Thanks.”

He steps in then, and I try to ignore the sound of water pelting the tile when he turns it on. But what’s not so easy to ignore is when he drops his towel, giving me an eyeful as I stare at the chiseled perfection of his muscular back and perfectly toned ass. My vision of him in the reflection is cut off when he disappears behind the shower curtain.

“What time’s cheer practice start?” he asks, prompting me to blink for the first time since he entered.

“Eight,” I answer. “What time do you have to report in?”

“Eight thirty. I’m usually early, but I’ll be cutting it close today.”

I knew he’d gone to bed late. At least, I saw light coming from the living room TV well past midnight, but I wasn’t sure he was still awake. Guess I could’ve gone to check but, honestly? After I finished with laundry and we returned to the loft, I stayed to myself.

Call me crazy, but coming on your best friend’s fingers makes things a tad bit awkward. Although, I must say, Dane rebounds from these encounters with impressive ease. It’s like getting so close to one another doesn’t even faze him, like it feels completely natural.

“You’re quiet this morning,” he notes, just as steam and the scent of his body wash are starting to fill the small space of our shared bathroom.

“Am I? I didn’t realize.”

He goes silent then, which makes me even more aware of my weirdness. Geez, I really have to stop doing this shit to myself—overthinking, letting anxiety get the best of me. It’s Dane, the person I’m closest to, out of everyone. I’ve got to relax.

“Mind if I ask you something?” His voice trails off and more of that tempting aroma wafts my way.

“Sure,” I say, smoothing my hair to where I intend to secure my ponytail.

“Last night was the first time someone’s touched you like that?”

He asks this question already knowing the answer, seeing as how we hide very little from each other. But I’ll be damned if my pep talk didn’t just go right out the window, knowing he expects an answer. Just like that, I’m all nerves again.

“It… I… yeah,” I finally admit, uncertain why I had such a hard time getting those words out.

“Hm,” is all he says at first, which has my mind going in a thousand different directions.

“I know. I’ve lived my life like a nun, right?” I say with a laugh, hoping it’ll help me loosen up.

“I wasn’t thinking that.”

When his words cut off there, I’m left hanging on the end of his sentence.

“Then, what is it?”

“Just that… something else came to mind. Something you might enjoy more than me fingering you.”

He stops there and doesn’t elaborate. The possibilities that race through my thoughts have my heart beating double time.

“Like what?” My voice quivers when I finally manage to get the words out.

I’m finished with my hair, but still lingering, desperate to see where this conversation goes.

“Has a guy ever gone down on you?” he rasps, making my eyes flutter with the question. He’s so straight-forward, so confident, sometimes it’s staggering to be on the receiving end of whatever he has to say.

“N—no. Never,” I practically choke out.

“Hm.”

He makes that vague noise again and I’m no more certain what it means now than I was the time before. Thinking the conversation is over, I push off from where I’ve leaned against the counter’s edge and take one step before Dane’s voice rings in my ears again. It sounds different, though.

It’s contemplative, deep, smoky.

“If you’re ready, we can try that next. Just say when.”

I process that, his offer. Then, I imagine it. That’s enough to make the sensitive areas he touched and probed last night awaken with need.

A quivering breath puffs from my lips and I leave him without a response. Not because he doesn’t deserve one, but rather because… he terrifies me. Like, legit scares the shit out of me. I didn’t know this side of him, the side that’s sexual and ravenous and so, so tempting. He leaves me raw, feeling like there’s not much I wouldn’t agree to when it comes to him.

All because I’ve never wanted to be so close to anyone in my entire life.

We have a rule—that we won’t let our emotions come into play. Only, the more we touch, the more I let him in, I feel that barrier I’ve built up beginning to crumble. Piece by piece.

It’s enough that, I’m wondering if we should stop before we’ve really even gotten started.

But there’s a large part of me that’s telling me something I don’t think I’m ready to hear.

That if the plan was to not fall for Dane… I’m already years too late.

* * *

My concentration’s been shit all practice.

I’ve missed half my cues, got slapped in the face by a blonde ponytail when I wasn’t paying attention, and I think one of my coaches already hates me.

Why?

Because my squad’s working out on the track instead of inside the gym. Which means I’ve had my eyes glued to the practice football field where Dane and his teammates run plays.

All I can think about are his words. The ones that have had me living in a fantasy ever since he spoke them.

Football practice is almost over, so the guys are mostly just throwing passes and hanging out while the coaches talk on the sidelines. I spot all three Goldens—because being so close, they flock to each other like magnets. Dane stands out, though. More than anyone, actually. The sun’s beating down on his broad shoulders as he sweats in this insane heat, free from the pads and jersey that once blocked my view. He tosses his head back with a laugh and, with the distance between us, and over the music streaming through Coach Melissa’s speakers, I can only hear its sound because I’ve memorized it.

“Francois!”

My head snaps toward the sound of my name being called. The voice is sharp and filled with frustration. And it isn’t until now that I realize the reason I heard music is because our next set of squats was supposed to start.

And I missed the signal.

“I’m so sorry. I—”

“Save it,” Coach Melissa snaps. “Step off the track until you fix whatever the hell has you so distracted.”

Embarrassed hearing a few members of the squad laugh behind their hands, I do as I’m told, knowing I have to get my shit together. But another glance in Dane’s direction has me thinking about Coach’s words.

Fix whatever has me distracted.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach for my duffle and pull out my phone just as Dane drops down onto the bench beside Sterling. I type out a message and hit send quickly, knowing I’ll change my mind if I don’t.

My heart races as he pauses mid conversation to reach for his bag, retrieving his phone I’m guessing at the sound of the notification my text generated. The slow smile that spreads across his lips tells me I’m not the only one looking forward to what comes next.

And all it took was sending him one word.

Joss: Tonight.

* * *

@QweenPandora:Holy back-tatts, Batman. No clue how well football practice did or didn’t go, but these pics are about to break the internet! Our boys have certainly been eating their Wheaties!

With reports of VirginVixen blatantly screwing up cheer practice, is it safe to say she was blinded by the sunlight glinting off her bestie’s chest?

I’m going to go out on a limb and say I’ve nailed it.

Also, it bears mentioning that my fave messy trio—PrettyBoyD, VV, and NotJoss—have been blowing up, haven’t they? I checked their followers this morning and WTF! Pretty soon, they’ll have more people tuning in than me!

I have a couple theories why this might be. Either you lovelies are flocking to them because you’re rooting for one pairing or the other, or it’s what my gut’s telling me. That you’re all addicted to the drama.

Well, keep the pics coming and we’ll sort through the dirty laundry of Cypress Pointe royalty together. There’s certainly enough of it to go around.

Later, Peeps.

—P