chapter forty-two

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By the time I pull my truck into the driveway, we're thirty minutes late

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By the time I pull my truck into the driveway, we're thirty minutes late.

Abby's still attempting to smooth down her hair in the passenger mirror, but there's not much her fingers can do to detangle the mess of chestnut knots. Between it drying in frizzy waves from her run in the rain and my exploring fingers, it's long past the point of saving.

She furrows her brows softly as she works her fingers through a particularly rough section, and with an inward sigh, she finally gives up and pulls her hair up into a ponytail. She considers herself for a second longer in the mirror, wiping any remaining smears of her mascara from the rain, and when her eyes finally flick over to mine, her lips quirk up to match my smile.

"You can't smile like that when we walk in, they'll definitely know."

She closes the mirror and leans back in her seat as she bites down on her lip to try to compose her own smile into something less incriminating. But honestly, my dumbass grin walking through that door isn't the only thing that's going to give away the fact that we just pulled over on a private road so we could shed our clothes. The rosy hue of her cheeks that always appears every time she orgasms radiates like a fucking lighthouse. That, and the fact that we're about to walk in thirty minutes late.

They're going to know what we did regardless, but the smile I can't seem to shake is just the final piece of evidence for anyone who might have any doubts. It won't look too suspicious to my teammates, though, because ever since Abby barged into the locker room, I haven't been able to wipe the ridiculous grin off my face.

I could have stood there and held her to me while I explored her mouth all night, but when the cheers echoing through the locker room turned into catcalls and then finally morphed into Luke and Micah standing up on the benches and holding invisible microphones to their mouths as they started to commentate like they were watching the beginning of a live porno, that's when Coach put an end to it.

"Does this look like a fucking Lifetime movie to you, Beck? Get your ass back over here." His tone faltered and then lightened when his eyes flicked down to Abby, who was looking up at him wide-eyed. And I swear to God, for the first time in four years, I saw Coach attempt to pull a comforting smile onto his face. It looked misplaced, like he shouldn't be able even to move his facial muscles in that way, but when he spoke again, his tone matched the softer exterior, and I nearly died of shock.

"I appreciate your plight, young lady, and I have a feeling your speech is going to help Beck stop playing like such an idiot in the second half, but I'm going to have to ask for my captain back. I still have to ream into him for the four turnovers he had in the first half." He sent me a warning glare before looking back to Abby with a much softer look.

Her cheeks were bright as she nodded quickly, and with a wave to the rest of the team and a rushed apology to Coach, she slipped back out of the locker room. Teasing comments erupted from my teammates, but I didn't register any of them because all I could think about were the three words she whispered in my ear before she disappeared back into the hall.

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