When we were alone, Maliyah’s eyes searched mine.

And then, without warning, she threw herself into my arms.

“That was amazing!” she breathed, holding me tight as I wrapped her up just the same. For a brief moment, I inhaled her scent, inhaled the way it felt to hold her familiar body to my chest.

But in the next, I let her go, stepping back to put space between us.

“You sound surprised,” I answered coolly.

“Well, I knew you were good, but… I like being reminded just how good.”

She offered me a teasing smile, dragging her fingertip down my stomach.

“Some of us are going out,” she added. “You should come.”

I sniffed, looking down the hall behind her. “We’ll see.”

“Come on, you have to celebrate after that,” she pleaded, and then she tucked her finger into the band of my football pants and tugged me into her. Her lips pressed right against the shell of my ear as she pressed up onto her toes. “It is your birthday, after all. I’d like to give you a gift.”

I hated that my cock responded to that voice whispering in my ear, that my skin broke out in chills at her touch. She smiled when she pulled back, like she knew she still had that effect on me — like she loved it.

And that cooled the fire.

I peeled her hands off me. “I have plans.”

Before I could turn, she stopped me, her hand wrapping around my forearm to whip me back around — not that I’d fought it.

“With her?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“That’s none of your business.”

Maliyah shook her head. “Why are you playing this game, Clay? I know you want me.” She stepped into me, her cleavage pressing against my lower ribs. Her hand slid down then, cupping me through my pants. “I can feel it.”

I shrugged her off so quickly she almost fell. “That’s a cup. See you around.”

I left her with her jaw on the floor, and once again, I tried to tell myself I did it because I knew it was too early. Her father had pretty much insinuated as much. She’d toss me aside just as quickly if I gave in now.

She just wanted to test me, and this was me passing.

This was all part of the plan.

I was still convincing myself of that when I was showered and dressed, texting Giana that I would meet her in her office.

Ten minutes, she texted back.

And then my phone rang.