Page 49 of First Down Promise

I exhale. “Oh, thank God. That would have been mortifying. I mean, ow for you.” Why am I such a dork?

“It wasn’t too bad. Ripped my tights, though. Uh, anyway, I’m going to change, and I’ll give you some privacy.”

“Sounds good, thanks.”

He nods and turns toward the arch as I throw his shirt over my head. It’s plain and white but soft from years of wear and washing. It hangs past my butt, and I feel like the girl in every rom-com movie ever wearing his oversized shirt. Beats wrapping myself up in his sheets, though.

When I get up, he must have gone into the living room because his bathroom is vacant. So is the connected walk-in closet. But he left his electric toothbrush by the sink next to a half-full tube of toothpaste, with a fresh brush head still in its packaging beside it. I’m assuming he left this for me, and I smile like an idiot.

When I’m done freshening up, I remove the brush head and set it on its plastic packaging, so we can tell them apart. I walk out of his room still in his tee, and the scent of something sweet yet savory has filled the main living space. Josh is unpacking a large brown paper bag, and containers cover the kitchen island counter.

“Wow, what a spread,” I say.

“You know how we eat.”

I let out a giggle because he sounds like Coop. “I sure do.”

I have to go home at some point, and while Josh is doing some recovery work at physical therapy, I spend the afternoon at yoga. I’ll have to check in with Pete and tell him I went. I cringe at the thought of talking to Pete like I didn’t sleep with his best friend last night. Surely there’s no way he can hear that through the phone. Right?

As I follow the instructor, I replay last night in my mind. He was so patient and courteous, and I’d fantasized about our first night for a while. I never thought much about the sex part or what he’d look like naked, but more about what it would be like to be held by him all night.

But I can’t let myself be disappointed by how things went. I always thought that my first time would be simple and fun and not hurt with the right person. I thought that if I loved the person, it would be perfect, but last night humbled my expectations of how it should have gone. What I do know is that Josh was the right person, and we have to try again.

After the yoga class, I scroll through my phone while sitting in my car before I drive home, and I come across the Stallions’ story. Josh is shown at physical therapy, and while his jaw tightens through one of the exercises, he puts on a smile for the camera.

Holy crap, I had sex with that big goober last night, even if it was just for a minute. Goosebumps rise along my limbs, and the next slide shows him wincing through another exercise.

They love playing, but at what cost?

I lock my phone and start the car, already counting down the hours until I’m back at his place.

That evening after we finish the dinner Josh made, I follow him to his room. “I’m getting déjà vu,” I say as I step through the archway toward the bed.

He lets out a light chuckle. “Me too, a little bit. How are you feeling?” he asks, pulling his shirt over his head. His bruises look less blue, turning greener now, but I still grimace at the colorful evidence of the last game.

“I’m good. I’ve been waiting for this all afternoon.”

He grins widely and rubs my upper arms. “Good. It should go better tonight. Sore at all?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Not in that way. Yoga was a little rough earlier, but PT seemed worse for you.” He furrows his eyebrows. “It was on the Stallions’ story.”

He nods and gently tucks his finger under my chin. “Nothing but a G thing.” He grins like he hadn’t spent the afternoon enduring PT. “Hope you’re not nervous.”

“Just a little,” I whisper. “But less than last night.”

“Good.” He leans in and presses his lips to mine.

He steps back and sits on the bed, opening his arms as an invitation to join him. He still has his pants on, but I decide in the moment to be a little daring. I pull my Iron Stallions sweatshirt over my head and toss it to the side, leaving me in my sports bra and leggings. Before I lose my nerve, I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my leggings and peel them down my legs. I didn’t wear underwear under these leggings, so I’m left nearly naked in front of him.

“Come here,” he whispers. That might be his new go-to phrase with me. The bed shifts as I plant my knees on either side of him and rest my bottom on his lap. “You can lose this, though.” He unzips the front zipper of my sports bra and slips the straps down my arms, pressing kisses to my chest and across my breasts before finally sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. I gasp at first, but his tongue gliding around it tickles slightly and sends a shiver down my stomach to where my legs meet. Heat simultaneously creeps up the back of my neck.

“I want it,” I mumble into his hair.

He releases my nipple with a slight pop sound and tilts his head backward to meet my eyes. “Good. I’ve got you.” His warm hands leave my back and graze over my thighs on their way to his joggers. I lift my weight off his lap, so he can shove them down his thighs. His dick pops out, and it’s too real seeing it between us. It almost looks too aggressive on a guy like Josh, but not completely out of place either. “You’re staying on top. Just take what’s comfortable.” His thigh tattoo also catches my eye—the Iron Stallions logo with his number. He got it a while back with the guys, but I’ve rarely seen it until now.

“Okay,” I nearly squeak. “Should I like…?”

Josh gently laughs. “You can touch it. Here, lift your hips.” He grips the base when I lift my body and holds himself steady, lining up between my legs. “And go down,” he nearly whispers.