Sidelined (The QB Bad Boy and Me)

(19) "You heard."

"I am literally so full." My body makes a thud noise when I dramatically slide off the chair and onto the carpet of our hotel room. "I cannot afford to eat like that."

"Neither," Dray admits with an amused tone. "But it was worth it. That was good."

"You haven't even bloated!" I sit up and wave my hand at his still perfectly sculpted torso. His defined definition hasn't gone anywhere with the food overload. It's unfair. My jeans definitely need to be undone. "Go put a shirt on. You're making me feel like a tubby."

"You're not tubby." He stands up and starts clearing the food scraps, throwing them into the rubbish bin and rinsing off the plates. He probably doesn't have to do that considering room service will do it. But it's a little bit cute that he's being domestic.

Especially while he's half-naked.

Considering that I took part in devouring the feast, I decide that it's only fair I help with the cleanup. So I grab a dish and move around him, placing the scraps in the bin and rinsing the plate as he'd done before.

As Dray moves behind me to open a cabinet, I turn around to walk back to the table and we end up bumping into each other. His large firm body pushes me against the countertop and I quickly put my arms behind me on the lip of the bench to steady myself as I lean away from him.

He looks down at me with an expression that's hard to read but it makes my knees weak. "Sorry Cheer."

Despite the apology he stays where he is, his hands coming to rest beside mine on the countertop, leaving me effectively encased between his arms. All I can hear is the laboured breathing coming from myself and the steady inhaling and exhaling coming from him.

Because he's leaning down, our faces are almost level with each other and the slow pace at which his eyes seem to regard my face makes me all sorts of confused and needy and muddled. It's a concoction of emotions that I can't get a grip on because I'm entirely too lost in the presence that he provides.

His face is all that I can focus on but I'm well aware of the blurred image in the background. His toned half-naked body. His firm arms creating a barrier around me. His rippling shoulder muscles that are prominent due to his angle.

There's a reason he gets who he wants into bed, whenever he wants them. He hasn't said a word and all I want to do is wrap myself around his frame and come undone under his touch.

He suddenly starts to speak, breaking the surrounding silence and my dirty thoughts, so abruptly that I jump. "Wanna play a game cheer?"

"Is this going to be some cheesy, 'I bet I can get you to sleep with me' game?" I do my best to sound confident and in charge but there's a definite hitch when I speak.

"What? No." He scoffs with a little laugh that fans my face. "I just thought we could kill some time with a game of truth or dare. Unless" - he cocks a brow - "you wanna do something else?"

His smirk indicates exactly what he's thinking and for a moment I'm tempted to go along with it. Really, no one would have to find out. We could both have some fun in California, go home and pretend as though nothing ever happened.

Ugh, even I know that isn't realistic. This thing between us has gone beyond physical, I can admit that much. Sleeping together would only make it worse. For me anyway.

"Truth or dare sounds great."

"Perfect."

"Yeap!"

Our gazes stay tightly locked on one another for another several agonising moments before he sighs and pushes away from the countertop. Freeing me from his close proximity which ultimately leaves me somewhat breathless.