Friend Zoned (Barnett Bulldogs #2) (15 page)

BOOK: Friend Zoned (Barnett Bulldogs #2)
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It doesn’t really matter.  It’s still fun.

Liam breaks, quickly sinking two solid colored balls.  Rather conversationally he asks, “So you and Harper go way back, huh?”

Assessing the table, I look at the placement of the striped balls before deciding which will be easiest to hit.  I may not win, but I’d still like to sink as many as possible.  “Yup.  We met in eighth grade when I moved in with my grandparents.  Our families are neighbors.  We’ve been friends ever since.”

Taking aim, I hit the green striped number fourteen and then the red striped eleven before flashing him a smug smile when both balls end up exactly where I intended them to.

Which is inside a pocket.

Any damn pocket. 

In answer, his lips curve as he pushes away from the wood paneled wall where he’s been idly watching me.  For a long moment he studies the balls before taking aim.  “You two ever hook up?”

Even though he never glances up from the table, my eyes fly to his.

If you had asked me that a month ago, I would have died laughing because I couldn’t ever imagine feeling remotely sexually attracted to Sam.

But now?

Yeah… clearly that’s no longer the case.  So, it’s rather casually that I reply, “Nope.  We’ve always been friends.”

And we’re still friends…

Although it’s different now.

I can’t help but remember the hot licks of jealously that arrowed clean through me at the bar last night when that waitress kept making cow eyes at him.  Or when she trailed her fingers over the bulging muscles of his arm…

Grrrr.

Shaking my head to clear it of all those unwanted thoughts, Liam looks up, capturing my gaze right before sliding the stick easily through his fingers.  The white cue ball knocks into both the yellow number one and the green number six.  Both find their way into a pocket.

“Lucky shot,” I mumble.  Although it probably isn’t luck at all.  Liam is good.  Really good.

Those gorgeous lips of his curve up into a smug little smile, releasing two incredibly cute dimples that flash and wink at me.  Is there no end to his hotness?  And why isn’t it doing a damn thing for me?

“Just keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

His words have me sticking out my tongue in response.

“Be careful,” he warns lazily, his gray eyes sparking, “I just might start getting ideas.”

I can’t help but snort.

Yeah, right…

Because, for whatever reason, I don’t think that’s true.  There’s no… sexual tension simmering in the air between us.  Not like there is with a certain someone else...

Two more turns and the game is over.  Liam ends up winning three games. I win one.  Grabbing my jacket, I feel his gaze.  Almost as if he’s silently assessing me.  When I give him a questioning look, his eyes narrow.  Walking out of the pool hall, he removes the black helmet from the back of the bike.  Holding it in his hands, he hesitates before placing it on my head.

Suddenly his eyes are searching mine again.  Before I can even open my mouth to ask what’s wrong, his face is lowering.  As it does, the breath catches at the back of my throat.

Not that I’ve ever really thought about kissing Liam before, but I guess because of his notoriety with the ladies, I expect him to be forceful, to take control of the situation.

But it’s not like that at all.

Gently his lips sweep over mine a few times before finally settling on them.  As the kiss unfolds, it’s slow and leisure.  As if we have all the time in the world to stand out here on the street exploring one another.  The unhurried way in which his lips slide sensually over mine has my eyelids feathering shut as I open to him.

Because this is exactly what I want.

Someone to take my mind off Sam.

Well… who better to do that than the very hot quarterback for the Barnett Bulldogs?

Sexy-as-sin Liam Garrison.  If anyone can get me to forget about what happened this morning with Sam, it would be him… right?

That’s exactly what I was thinking.

So, yeah, I’m going for it.  I am totally going to let this happen.  As far as I’m concerned, it
needs
to happen.  For the sake of my friendship with Sam, this
needs
to happen.

Alright, alright… that’s a lot of pressure.

I need to dial it down a few notches and just chill.

A moment later his tongue slips inside my mouth to mingle with my own.  There is absolutely no tentativeness in the way he strokes himself against me.  Or in the way his large hand curls around the back of my neck, holding me in place while he slowly explores every single inch of my mouth.

Yep, Liam Garrison definitely knows how to kiss.

As his tongue continues to dance with mine, I can’t stop myself from thinking that this is really quite pleasant.

Yeah…

That’s right.

Pleasant.

No sparks.  No fireworks.  No losing myself within him.

It’s just…
nice
.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

I certainly don’t want to climb him like a tree.  Nor am I mindless with the desire he’s stoking to life inside me.

Damn.

Damn.

Damn.

Damn.

When Liam finally breaks away from me, there’s a thoughtful expression marring his handsome face.  His gray gaze searches mine carefully before he finally sighs.  The sound of it is nothing short of regretful. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I was thinking, too.”

Unconsciously my brows draw together as his words rattle around within my head.  Before I can open my mouth to ask what that’s supposed to mean, he’s pulling the black helmet carefully over my head and we’re taking off, flying back towards campus.

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

When I finally make it back to the guy’s apartment, Sam is nowhere to be found and Roan is just walking out the door.  He’s hitting the library for some research and won’t be home until after dinner.

It’s probably not a good sign that my first reaction is relief.

Now I can just throw all my crap into a bag and get the hell out of here before Sam returns.  Then, from the relative safety of my dorm, I can take a few days to think about what’s going on between us.  I’m hoping that with enough time, not to mention distance, these feelings will eventually simmer down and-

My phone dings with an incoming text.

Grabbing it, I quickly scan the message.

Crap.

Crap.  Crap.  Crap.

Carter is staying another night.

My belly does one of those loop-to-loop things in response to that little bit of unwelcome news.

Really?

Really?

God… all I want at this point is to make a clean get away before Sam returns and forces me to discuss all the issues that have sprung up between us.

Seriously… Can’t he see that avoidance is the best possible option at this point?

Every time I thought about him today, my mind immediately circled back to that morning wood grinding against me.

And how much I liked it…

Yep, distance.  That’s exactly what’s needed at a time like this.  Just a little bit of space so everything can slide right back to the way it’s supposed to be.  Which is what will happen if I clear out of here and get back to my own place.

Damn Mia and her loud ass boyfriend!

Alright… they’re both loud as hell.

As much as I would dearly love to tell her to forget it… I just can’t.  Mia and Carter don’t get to see each other very often, so how can I crash the little lovefest they’ve got going on over there?

I can’t.

I just can’t do it.

And I’m certainly not sleeping in the commons area again.  Gross.

So I guess I’m stuck here until tomorrow.  That is if Sam is cool with it.  Which I’m guessing he will be.  If not, I could always crash as my grandparent’s house although, since I don’t have a car, I’ll have to catch the bus to get across town.

Just as all this is rolling around in my head, I hear a key being jammed into the front door.  My heart stutters in response as a rather sweaty looking Sam enters the apartment.  Even though it’s about forty degrees outside, he’s wearing long gray athletic shorts and a black t-shirt that has the arm holes ripped out.  He’s holding a Barnett Bulldogs sweatshirt in one hand and a huge plastic water bottle in the other.

Standing motionless, much like a deer in headlights, I give him a tentative smile as his eyes immediately arrow to mine.  Something thuds heavily in my chest as the breath becomes lodged in my throat.  When he finally gives an answering nod in response, everything within me instantaneously loosens.

For some reason, I was thinking he might be mad that I took off with Liam this morning after breakfast.  I’m glad he’s not.  Although, in all honesty, there’s no reason for it.  He shouldn’t be upset about me spending time with another guy.

But already I feel the thick tension settling its way between us.  The easy comradery that has always been a part of our friendship is long gone.

Without another word, Sam goes to the fridge, grabbing an orange Gatorade before twisting off the top and guzzling down half the bottle in one fell swoop.  Transfixed by the sight, I can’t help but stare at the way his throat works as he takes long swallows of his drink.

That… really shouldn’t be sexy.

Like at all.

He’s just drinking Gatorade, for goodness sake.

And yet… here I am totally staring.  Possibly even drooling. Rather nonchalantly I swipe my fingers across my lower lip just in case.  I think I might be losing it.  What other rational explanation could there be?  Lusting after Sam feels all kinds of wrong.

Maybe it’s for the best if I just avoid this whole situation and stay with my grandparents tonight.  I can spend some quality time with them.  But then I’m stuck riding the bus and it’ll take more than an hour to get there.  Not to mention getting back to school tomorrow morning with all my crap.

Unsure what to do, I scrub a hand over my face as an internal debate wages on within me.

“Something wrong?”

My eyes snap up as he leans that big brawny body of his against the kitchen counter before finishing off his drink.  His gaze skewers mine, pinning me in place, as he silently awaits an answer.

“What?”  I have to clear my throat because I think that came out sounding more like a squeak.

“Was there a problem with Garrison?”  His thickly corded muscles tighten. Arms bulge and flex as those words whip from his mouth.  All of a sudden he looks pissed as hell.  “Because I’ll kick his damn-”

Quickly I shake my head.  “No, no, nothing like that.”  Christ… he thinks this has to do with Liam.  Well thank goodness for that.

As he continues to quietly study me from across the small space, just a bit of hesitancy fills his eyes before he asks, “Everything go okay with that?”

I shrug.  For some reason I don’t want to discuss the time I spent with Liam this afternoon.  Which is kind of strange, because Sam and I always talk about the people we’re seeing.  Normally we don’t hold anything back.  Which is, now that I’m thinking about it, probably one of the reasons why neither one of us have had a lasting relationship.

“Yeah.  He took me for a ride and then we played a few games of pool.”

His brows draw sharply together as he folds those massive arms across his broad chest.  The way he stands there, legs spread a foot or two apart, muscles tensed, head cocked just a bit to the side, shouldn’t look so sexy.  And it certainly shouldn’t have my nether regions perking up with interest either.

“You don’t play pool.”

I give him a small, wane smile wanting whatever the hell is going on in my body to simmer down and dissipate.  “I do now.”

Some kind of unintelligible sound rumbles up from deep within his throat before he asks, “So, if there wasn’t a problem with Garrison, what’s going on?”

I nibble at my lower lip before reluctantly admitting, “Mia wants to know if I can stay here for another night.  Carter decided to stick around a little longer than expected.”  It would honestly be in everyone’s best interest if Sam just kicked my ass to the curb. 
Like right now
.  I wouldn’t even question it.  I’d just grab my stuff and get the hell out of here before anything else untoward happened.

Like me spontaneously combusting.

Or me flinging myself at him…

And all those damn rippling muscles.

Instead of doing exactly that, his eyes narrow, dark blond brows drawing together as if he can’t quite make sense of the words pouring out of my mouth. “Why would that be a problem?”  He looks legitimately confused, which is good.  Because it means that whatever is going on between us is purely one sided.

It’s
my
problem.

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