8. Benny

CHAPTER EIGHT

benny

“Morning!” I say far too happily and sunshiny for Rowan. And yeah, I do it on purpose. He just glares at me as he hops into my truck. I’m not even in his driveway. Didn’t make it that far today. He was waiting for me out on the road, but still, I have to admit I was relieved to see him there and alone.

Not in Bianca Pearson’s car.

Why the hell did it bother me so much, seeing them together yesterday? When he said he was getting a ride with her and didn’t need one from me, I felt like my chest was going to pop.

I wanted to give him a ride home. I want to be the one to pick him up and take him to school. This obsession is becoming a lot, but of course, I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t let him know it bothered me.

He’d have never let that slide. So, I do what I normally do. I joked around and played it off. But I don’t know what I’d have done if he wasn’t waiting for me today.

“How was your date?” I can’t seem to help asking because apparently, I like torturing myself. I tossed and turned all night, thinking about what happened on that ride home from school. Rowan is sought-after at our school. It’s no secret. The girls want him, and since he doesn’t date a whole lot, the interest just naturally ratchets up.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, looking out the window.

I can’t stop myself from looking over at him, staring at his beautiful profile. His high cheekbones and pouty lips always in a scowl. What would they feel like on mine? Or wrapped around my cock?

My eyes widen, and I almost jerk the truck off the road when the thought hits me so hard, my cock twitches in my jeans, just thinking about that image. I have to stop doing that. I look away from him and stare at the road, feeling his irritation, but thankfully, he doesn’t say anything.

We make it to school, and he gets the hell out of my truck like his clothes are on fire, like normal. This time, though, I let him go before I slowly get out of my truck. I might need a little distance from him.

Tonight is the first game of the season, and I need to keep my focus right there. I can’t do that if I’m thinking about receiving an epic blowjob from one of my teammates.

“Nrgh!” My body hits the dirt below, and it hits hard. My head, that thankfully has a helmet covering it, bounces as I connect with the ground, and Matthew, who just totally took my ass out, reaches down in a panic for my hand trying to pull me up.

“Benny. I’m sorry, man. I didn’t think I’d get through.”

“You shouldn’t have been able to,” Coach says as he makes his way over to us, while I stand up and rub my hip that took the brunt of the tackle. “What the hell was that, Kincaid?” He’s glaring at Rowan, who’s standing near us, stone-faced.

It’s an early afternoon practice since we have a game tonight. We got out of school an hour early just for this, and it seems we needed it because we’re not ready.

He just let him right the hell through. Didn’t bother to block for me. I thought we were past this. But apparently not.

“Answer me,” Coach demands firmly, clearly losing his cool.

There’s a lot of pressure on coaches around here to win. Always. There are no exceptions. We’ve been through three coaches in a few years, but the school board won’t hesitate to replace this one if we get on a losing streak.

“I messed up,” Rowan says.

“Messed up? I just got reamed, man. What the hell?” I can’t help but yell at him. We’re gearing up for an actual game, no one is really holding back, so Matthew hit me pretty hard.

It would be fine, but I wasn’t ready for it.

I thought Rowan had my back.

“Everyone, go home. Get something to eat and get your asses back here by six.” Everyone starts to leave, but Rowan and I both seem to instinctively know he wasn’t talking to us.

We both stand still as everyone else clears the practice field, and it’s just Coach and us. “Are we going to have a problem?” He’s looking at both of us.

“No, sir,” I answer, and then I look over at Rowan, who’s standing stock-still.

I’m imploring him to answer the coach. What the hell is he doing? What’s his problem? We’re fine. So he went out on a date last night with one of the hottest girls in school. Who cares? It doesn’t change anything.

“No, sir,” he finally answers, and I let out a relieved breath.

“Fix it. Whatever the hell is in your head, Kincaid. Fix it. It’s not time for this shit.”

He nods, his jaw ticking with anger, but he doesn’t talk back. Thank fuck because I have no doubt that if he did, Coach would bench him. And we don’t have anyone else.

“Clean up. Shower. Go home and eat. Then get back here in a better headspace,” Coach orders, each new command angry and clipped.

We both nod as he walks off the field, and I start to clean up the stuff our teammates left out on the practice field and bleachers. Rowan does the same at a slow pace, and I’m angry. He has to have my back out there or we’re going to get clobbered.

“What the hell was that?”

“It’s just practice, McBride. Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it?” I say, stepping over to him, dropping a few water bottles I’ve collected by the sideline and march over to his big, asshole self, poking him in the chest. “We have a game in less than three hours. You have to block for me.”

“I will,” he says through clenched teeth. “I slipped up once.” His eyes aren’t on mine though. My heart slams into my chest with a hard thump when I realize where his eyes are. On my mouth. “Once,” he whispers.

Heat creeps up my body, over my neck and to my ears. He’s not talking about today. “Rowan.”

He seems to snap out of whatever trance he was in, looking away from my mouth and from me entirely, then reaching down to swoop up some trash on the ground. “Don’t worry about it, McBride.”

I stand frozen for far too long though, thinking about it , but not how he didn’t block for me. The it I know deep down... he’s thinking about. I thought it was a fluke. Like it was a dream or I read too much into it, but the way he was looking at me—he felt it too.

He still feels it.

“McBride.” His deep voice catches my attention, and I glance in his direction. “Move your ass.”

Oh, right. I try to shake it off and move around the field to clean up before we both head to the locker room. I’m sweaty and dirty, but I’m ready for the first game of the season.

I want this. I want to win every single game. Most of the guys are heading out of the locker room as we walk in, and by the time we collect the practice jerseys and toss dirty laundry in the hamper, even Coach has left, leaving only Rowan and me.

The tension is thick in the air as we strip out of our practice clothes and both head toward the showers. I don’t look at him—terrified of how my body would react to a sweaty, dirty, and naked Rowan.

I face away from him and scrub up, trying my best not to think of a very nude Rowan mere feet away from me.

We have a game to focus on. We have to win. It’s senior year.

Those are the thoughts that get me through the shower, turning off the water and grabbing a towel. I dry off and sling the towel around my waist, walking over to my locker, still avoiding looking in Rowan’s direction.

He hasn’t said a word. I haven’t heard a sound, but I can feel him here in my presence. The water turns off, and I can see his big, wet body in my peripheral vision, but I keep focused, drying off and tugging on a clean pair of shorts.

My breathing is ragged as I try to ignore the way my body and my mind are responding to being alone with him. I want to ask him what the hell his problem is. I want to make him tell me about his date and why he seems even more pissy afterward. Why he’s so angry.

But I know he won’t talk to me. I yank my shirt on over my head and turn around, just in time to see Rowan dropping his towel and revealing that gorgeous, toned ass of his.

Fuck. Me.

Why can’t I look away?

I have to look away. If he turns around and sees me, he’ll kick my ass. But I just can’t look away. He turns—his eyes on mine as I lift my gaze to his face. He doesn’t look all that mad though. His chest is rising and falling, over and over, breathing as hard as I am.

I don’t dare look lower, but my God, I want to. I swallow hard, trying to wet my dry throat as we just stare at each other.

“Stop. Looking. At. Me,” he bites out, his words ticking out slowly, his breath still ragged. His big chest filling and deflating.

“I can’t,” I barely breathe.

His head shakes slightly, and he stalks over to me, totally bare, while I’m clothed. Stopping a foot in front of me, he says, “You have to.”

I start to shake my head, but then his big hand wraps around the back of my neck and stops any and all movement. I swear I stop breathing as we stand there, my body frozen. Except we’re both panting, his fingers digging into the back of my neck. His eyes are on my lips.

It’s that day all over again, except I don’t have a girlfriend now, and there’s no one around to stop us. But neither of us move. It’s like I’m sucking in his air, and he’s doing the same in this strange standoff. The back of my neck tingles where his hand is touching me. I want more.

I want to feel his lips on mine. He moves in so close, I can feel his breath over my lips. It’s a millimeter away from his lips touching mine, but I can’t finish it. I can’t be the one to kiss him.

I don’t know why, but I know I can’t. It has to be him. His choice. His first move.

His nose brushes mine, and I gasp at the zing that spreads through my body with the contact. “Benny,” he breathes.

Not McBride. Benny. I love the way my name sounds on his lips, and my eyes fall closed, just breathing him in—the clean soap from the shower and Rowan.

His lips ghost over mine, and my entire body trembles. I want him to kiss me so badly. I’ve never wanted anything this desperately in my entire life. My chest feels like it might burst. “We can’t.”

My eyes open just as his hand releases its grasp on the back of my neck, and he’s walking away from me. He goes back to his locker and pulls on a pair of jeans, my heart stuttering in my chest as I try to catch my breath.

I blink and blink again as he finishes getting dressed and grabs his bag, turning to look at me expectantly. “Let’s go.”

My legs barely seem to work as I grab my own bag, and we head out to my truck, driving to his place in silence until he makes me stop where I picked him up—not in his drive but near it.

What the hell happened back there?

And how am I supposed to focus on the game now?