Football players are assholes. I know; I'm related to their king. My older, and annoyingly overprotective, brother Jake is the star quarterback at Santa Cruz High School. I love him but hate living in his shadow. Everyone worshiping the air he breat...
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Holy fuck. Ellie's trying to give me a heart attack or a stroke. It's working.
My heart didn't know what to do. It dropped in a plummet, soared on wings, then pounded in my ears with a giant rush of lightheadedness. After five days of overly due apologies, two punches in my handsome face, one destroyed phone, a grueling football game against our biggest rival, and her becoming my girlfriend, Ellie and I finally had our first date. My brain was stuck in that date mode before she yanked it into oblivion.
I almost fell over at the sight of her bare breasts, inches from my chest. When she reached behind her, I worried she'd gotten bitten by a mosquito. She didn't have a mosquito issue; Ellie had either taken her bra off with her shirt or hadn't worn one.
"What the fuck did I do to deserve this?" I mumbled, my eyes unable to blink.
I hadn't brought anything special, only a light picnic and a pair of shorts because I ran hot. Mom had offered to cook for us, but I hadn't let her because food poisoning or an ER trip wasn't an enjoyable date. Thirteen-year-old me dreamed of bringing a date here. Ellie made it true, but almost eighteen-year-old me couldn't believe what knelt before my eyes.
Her head tipped back, the sun shining on her hair and cheeks, and her laugh was warmer than the rays shining on us. "You told me I needed to show you some appreciation."
Her form of appreciation started as the slowest form of torture known to man, hovering her face six inches above mine, and that soft, suggestive voice shooting straight to my balls. Her coy, cute smile didn't help the way that my wanting to touch her now bordered a need. Small tingles erupted where her hands traveled up my arms until her elbows rested on my shoulders. She had incredibly bony elbows, but I was too distracted by how her eyes bored into mine with a challenge for me to break off our stare.
She shrugged. "You know, before Jake punched you."
Well, that cooled me off. The last words I'd expected were a reminder that her brother had punched me in the face. I couldn't convince Mom I'd gotten the black eye during the game. She insisted that I spent the night with a bag of frozen peas over it, and the only way I could distract her was by telling her about Ellie. She about ripped my neck off and broke my eardrum screaming, then went into some 'treat-her-right, respect-her-boundaries-you-doofus' tirade. The swelling in my eye disappeared, but I looked like a bad horror movie makeup application.
