Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“First of all, that one’s dirty. And second, of course I like driving you crazy. Do you know us? I’ve spent my life driving you crazy, which is why I’ll pretend I don’t have a hat and take yours, and you’ll pretend you don’t love the fact that I give you shit all the time.”
Fucking Ashton Carmichael. I needed to get those words tattooed on me.
I ran a hand through my hair, then drove away. We were running a few minutes late, so I called Kenny to have him wait outside for me to swing by and pick him up.
Kenny grinned when he saw Ash in the passenger seat.
“You’re coming!” Kenny said when he got inside.
“Yep. I begged and pleaded. What’s up, K?” Ash turned around in the seat and held up his hand for a high five. Kenny immediately gave him one. “Ooh. We should come up with our own secret handshake. We’ll do that after practice.”
“Okay!” Kenny replied. He smiled, and I realized I was smiling too. That I was like all those people I used to roll my eyes at who got blinded by Ash’s bright light. He was addicting, enthralling, a force of nature even I couldn’t seem to deny.
“What are you smiling at, Campbell?”
“I’m not smiling, and you don’t always have to call me by my name, you know? I know who you’re talking to.”
“I like calling you by your name. I could always use Cranky Campbell if you prefer.”
“I can always make you walk if you prefer.”
“Fine, you win this time, but don’t think I won’t get my revenge.”
“ABC,” Kenny said from the back seat.
“Huh?” I caught eyes with him in the rearview mirror.
“Ashton, Beau, Carmichael, and Campbell. You’re ABC.”
“Well, shit. If that isn’t cute as hell, I don’t know what is,” Ash replied. “See? We were meant to be best friends.”
“I thought Linc was your best friend?” Kenny asked.
I glanced over at Ash, who looked away. He almost seemed…hurt, but I knew that couldn’t really be the case. “I guess I have two best friends,” I replied. A week ago, hell, two days ago, I wouldn’t have said that about Ash, but really, it was true. We had history I didn’t have with anyone else.
“Oh, then I have two as well—Beau and Ash.”
“Good taste.” Ash winked at him, then nudged me. “You have good taste too, Campbell.”
Yeah…yeah, I thought I did.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ashton
LA Avalanche quarterback Ashton Carmichael donates big money to Down syndrome Organization! It’s not often we have positive headlines for him off the field.
My leg bounced up and down as I sat in my corner while Beau coached. Every few minutes I bit my tongue to keep from yelling something out, from giving advice, or hell, even just in agreement with something Beau said or did. It was killing me. That might sound dramatic, but it was damn near that bad.
I wanted to be out there with him.
I wanted to coach with Beau.
I wanted to play with him again.
Before I knew it, practice was over and everyone was walking away. “Kenny, Adam, come over here. I want to show you something,” Beau said to their wide receiver, then stopped and looked my way. I considered batting my eyelashes at him in a silent plea to help him, but apparently I didn’t need to because he added, “Wanna help me with something, Carmichael?”
Yes. Fuck yes, I do. “Naw, I’m good.”
Adam’s eyes went wide, and I shoved to my feet. “I’m kidding. I really want to help.” That’s all I needed, for them to think I was an asshole.
There were a few whispers from some of the families in the bleachers, but I ignored it. I hoped like hell my helping out wouldn’t make headlines. I didn’t think it would. Most of the time, they only cared when I did something wrong, and I didn’t think the families would want to draw attention to their league that way.
The team stopped and watched too as I jogged over, and when I got to him, Beau rolled his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”
I could think of a hundred different things I wanted him to do with me, to me, let me try on him, but I was pretty sure they weren’t appropriate for me to say. Football was the next best thing to exploring my sexuality with him.
Beau leaned over and whispered, “It’s okay to want to participate, ya know?”
“Who are you, and what did you do with Beau Campbell?” But really, I knew what this was. Things had changed between us. Beau saw me as someone who needed help, and he could never stop himself from being there for someone else. I didn’t want him to pity me—no, pity wasn’t the right word—but I did want him to spend time with me because he wanted to, not because he thought I needed him. I wanted him to offer for me to help him coach because he wanted to coach with me, not because he knew that sitting on the sidelines was killing me, and I had no doubt he’d known.