Page 16 of Worth Every Game
“Shit,” he grunts, grabbing my upper arms and pushing me off. His expression is still distracted, and he appears harassed; not at all like the cocksure Jack I know. He looks down at me, recognition flaring in his gaze. “El. Shit. Are you okay? Fuck. Sorry.”
I step back out of his hold and rub at my arms. “Ow. Watch where you’re going.”
“Sorry, I didn’t see you. I was…” His words fade, and time seems to slow as we stare at one another. A fizzing sensation bursts to life in my chest, and heat rolls out slowly across mybody. Jack’s face is red, and he’s breathing hard, but he’s just finished racing, so it must be that, right?
Whatever it is, it’s intense enough to set a fire blazing beneath my skin.
Jack is the first to collect himself. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Last minute decision,” I mutter. “I came for the beer.”
He must see the lie on my face because his blue eyes go all twinkly, like there’s a fireworks display happening inside his skull. “Oh yeah?” He breaks into a sly smile, his gaze intense with innuendo. “It’s a long way to come for a pint of beer.”
He’s staring at me like the cat that got the cream, and it riles me. “You can wipe that delighted look off your face. I didn’t come to watch you.”
“Whatever you say, El.” The deep, seductive timbre of his voice slides under my skin, boiling me from the inside. A gasp sticks in my throat, and Jack’s gaze settles on my lips for a second before he winks, which nearly finishes me off. He’s doing this deliberately, I’m sure of it. And as annoying as it is to see him so satisfied with himself, I’m basking in his attention. I take him in, piece by delicious piece. The handsome face, the eyes bright with exertion, the muscles on his thighs I can make out through the suit…I bet this man has stamina…
He smirks, as though he knows exactly what I’m thinking. The expression is an easy resting place for his features, making me wonder if he gets looked at this way all the time and knows it. But ofcourse,he knows it… there’s no way Jack Lansen isn’t aware of exactly how attractive he is.
A raucous chanting from further down the corridor interrupts us, and I tune into the repeated sound until I can make out the words.
Jack Lansen,
Hottest man on the track.
I’d eat him for a snack.
It’s a dreadful rhyme.Who came up with that?A burgeoning giggle expands in my chest, but I bite my lip to hold it in because Jack’s cocky expression dissolves, and he squeezes his eyes tight shut as though the sound causes some catastrophic internal agony.
Was this what he was running from when he crashed into me?
He throws an uneasy glance over his shoulder before turning back to me, one hand threading its way into his thick, dark hair. “Fuck,” he mutters.
I lean past his bulk to see who’s responsible for the disruption, only to catch sight of Lydia from the bar last week marching through the crowd, leading a team of women all wearing masks with Jack’s face printed on them. They’re waving a banner with ‘JACK LANSEN WE LOVE YOU’painted on it. It’s absolutely, certifiably bonkers, and I cannot hold back the burst of horrified laughter that pops out of my mouth.
“You have superfans.” I nod at the oncoming army, and in response, Jack gives a tiny shudder.
“Jack,” comes Lydia’s high-pitched squeal.
He braces as though he expects her to launch herself at him like a cannonball, propelled all the way from the other end of the corridor. “She won’t stop calling. And now all this…” He waves his hand in her direction, looking so perturbed that I almost feel sorry for him. But not sorry enough to prevent the smile breaking over my face.
“She does look… hungry.”
Jack raises a brow. “Don’t fucking laugh, El,” he threatens, but there’s a teasing light in his eyes that tells me he appreciates how ridiculous this scenario is. As he holds my gaze, the two of us on the verge of laughter, I feel a happy glow ignite inside.Am I bonding with Jack Lansen?
“Jack,” Lydia calls again, an unhinged screech to her voice this time. She’s approaching fast, and I don’t want her anywhere near us. Not only is she clearly a little insane, but, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm enjoying having Jack all to myself.
He cusses, a desperate grimace warping his features before it brightens like he’s been struck by a moment of genius. He grabs my hand and pulls me so close to him that my next inhalation is full of the scent of him, which is somehow fresh like rainwater and the outdoors, despite the sweat. My heart starts leaping around like a kid on a sugar high.
“Kiss me,” he rasps in my ear.
Goosebumps spread up my arms like a minor scale played at high speed, and my mind spirals as I process his words, but the moment I make sense of them, a jolting realisation hits me.I want to do exactly what he just ordered.I want to slam my lips against his, sweat and all, and kiss him.
But not like this. Not because ofher.
I have to summon every ounce of self respect just so I can push my hands against his chest—fuck, those pecs are hard under there—and shove him away. He steps back, which is just as well, because there is no way I could actually move him. “Yuck. No.”
“Yuck?” Jack begins to laugh as though there isno possible wayI can really mean it.