Everyone who works within the New York Warriors organization knows that star player August Fletcher refuses to talk to most people...and especially team reporters. All except Quinn Castle, that is.
Quinn doesn't know why the broody football player...
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"WHAT DID YOU say to Sunny?" I asked as August walked back behind the bar, twirling a set of keys in his fingers. I noticed he was walking better, with more ease, and relief swirled in my chest.
"I just told him we'd lock up when we're done," August replied as he closed the distance between us and looped an arm around my back, tugging me into him. I did a quick look around us, nervous about having an audience, but the bar had pretty much cleared of guests.
I quirked a brow. "Done...doing what?"
"Giving you pool lessons, of course." August's handsome face transformed into a cocky smirk. "I told Sunny you needed some practice before we played with Cohen and Finny next week. And then he told me to take it easy on my knee, so I think he knows exactly what's on my mind."
A flush rose on my neck until I could feel it heating my cheeks. My lips parted as I tried to think of something to say. But then August derailed my thoughts before I could figure them out.
"Fuck, you're pretty when you blush," he murmured, his voice all gravel and husk as he trailed a finger across my cheek.
Heat spiraled through me at his touch, as simple as it was. There was promise in that touch, though. Promise for more. And when August gave more, I knew he wouldn't hold back.
August spun our bodies so he was pinning me to the bar, his body all hard and delicious as it pressed against mine. His breathing was uneven as he dropped each of his hands to the countertop on either side of my hips, caging me in.
With any other man, it might alarm me. But the feeling of August surrounding me was ridiculously comforting. At this rate, we weren't even going to make it to the pool table. And considering how I could still hear Sunny and Cohen cleaning up in the kitchen, we needed to get a grip.
Tipping my head back, I looked up at August and swallowed past the desire clouding my senses. "You know, you can go to pool night without me. I don't want to keep you from seeing your friends."
"I can see my friends whenever I want," he said earnestly. He dipped his head, letting his words brush across my skin. "But I don't know how long I'll get to see you, Castle. How long I get to keep you here on my island."
An ache spread through me at his words.
Maybe this was foolish of us—this thing we were doing. It was starting to feel too big, too comfortable, too deep for what it could ever really be. I couldn't stay here forever. But I'd be leaving much more than an island behind when I left.
"Come on," August breathed, breaking through my thoughts. He pulled back and grabbed my hand, tugging me away from the bar. His movements were still on the slower side as he led me across the space to the pool table, but I liked holding his hand too much to walk ahead of him.
God, this wasn't good. The fact that August holding my hand had me spiraling just really wasn't good.
Not to mention how his eyes connected with mine when he handed me the cue stick, all sharp and heated. I didn't know what the hell was happening between us, but it was palpable. The desire that swirled in the air around us was like a fog I could cut through like a knife.
