The backseat of Lottie’s car has become an all too familiar place, your little post-practice hideout away from everything & everyone.

She barely gave you a chance to breathe after practice, grabbing your wrist the second she’d changed out of her gear and ignoring Tai’s knowing smirk and Van’s teasing ‘Going somewhere, Matthews?’ as she pulled you out of the locker rooms.

Now, you’re straddling her lap, your knees digging into the leather of Lottie’s car seats. Her hands are resting on at the small of your back, fingers splayed wide across the soft skin, tracing circles against your spine. The scent of her perfume hangs in the air as you press yourself closer, as if the space between you wasn’t already nonexistent. Her lips move in sync with yours, kissing like you have all the time in the world.

“You’re gonna be the reason we get caught one day,” Lottie murmurs, as if it’s somehow your fault that she got ahead of herself and pulled you out here, all because she couldn’t wait. She doesn’t pull away, and is, instead, breathing you in, her mouth chasing yours the second you try to lean back.

Outside, the others are probably still hanging around in the parking lot, stretching their sore muscles or making weekend plans, completely oblivious to what’s happening just a few feet away, where, the windows are fogged up and the only thing that exists is the press of Lottie’s lips.