To All the Footballers I Loved Before by C.M. Kars

Author:C.M. Kars
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fangirl romance, sports romance, athlete romance, contemporary romance, new adult romance
Publisher: C.M. Kars
Published: 2022-06-21T00:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

I wake up to the sound of swearing.

“Shit, shit, shit!” The voice isn’t particularly loud, just above a whisper, but the force of the words and the rocking motion of the bed I’m lying on wakes me up. That thought is followed by another: I’m not alone in this bed, only to be followed up by, I’m not in my bed.

I sit up, dropping the covers down to my waist, frowning down at the sensation of my bare legs underneath the covers.

Oh, Christ.

I look over at the stranger rolling around next to me, realizing it’s Jesse in the pre-dawn light, rolling around under the covers.

My sleep-addled brain tries to come up with an excuse why I don’t have the sweats I wore last night on my legs anymore, and cold dread seeps in through every single cell I possess.

We didn’t. I would have remembered that. We didn’t, right?

I mean, I do end up taking off clothes when I get too hot and throwing them off while I’m asleep, so that’s probably what happened, right?

There was no alcohol involved last night, so I would remember if anything happened. There’s a logical explanation for this.

But first, why is Jesse swearing at me at balls a.m.?

“What’s happened?” I say in my morning voice, like I’ve gone and swallowed gravel scraping against my vocal cords.

“You kicked me in the balls,” he grunts, and I can tell now that he’s cupping himself under the covers, his face a mask of pain, eyes squeezed shut, lips pulled back over his teeth.

“I did not.”

Jesse’s eyes snap open, and he’s still blurry so I can’t really make anything else out. “Oh, do you think I did it to myself then?”

“Do you want me to kiss it better?” I gasp when the words come out, slapping a hand over my mouth because clearly I should not be having a conversation this early in the morning with the guy I’m crushing on. “Oh my God, I didn’t mean to say that—it just came out.”

“I can’t be hard right now, it’s not possible.” He groans into his pillow, practically biting down on it and growling like a crazed animal. I watch him do all this with an odd sort of detachment while my brain starts to take in all the details of his room. The furniture’s all black, and the king-size bed dominates the entire room. There’s nothing personal about it, no pictures, or paintings on the wall. It’s like he gave an order to someone to decorate without them knowing any of his favorite colors or textures and just putting furniture in for the sake of it not looking empty.

His room doesn’t tell me a thing about him.

Jesse doesn’t even have a football around, bronzed or something, to commemorate his first goal in the league. Anything to tell me what he holds in his heart.

“Do you want me to get you a bag of peas?” I ask, already pushing down the covers, ignoring the fact that I don’t have sweats

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