I shut the door and take yet another deep breath. “It’s not. I just have a…” I find his gaze. “Secret,” I finish under my breath.
Curiosity widens those hazel eyes, and he dips his chin low, his gaze burning and melting me the same way it did when he was sixteen. “Is that so?”
He reaches out and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, and his touch sends shivers down my spine.
I step back and clear my throat, remembering that this is a necessary evil in order to do efficient and uncomplicated business with Andre Smoke. “I just wanted to address what happened that night.”
“What night?”
I shoot him a blistering get real look and wet my lips. “Come on, Andre. That night. That summer, when you came home from LSU. Down by the lake behind our house…” I let my voice trail off, praying for him to stop me.
“Oh.” He draws out the word, giving a teasing wink. “You mean that night?”
I cross my arms. “Yes. That night. I was very young. And very stupid. And I just don’t want there to be any weirdness or awkwardness between us. It was a long time ago.” I look to the side, not really sure where to go from here, or how to make this conversation go in the smoothest way possible.
He holds up his hands, inching closer to me. “Why would there be weirdness?”
Does he not remember the full extent of it? Maybe not. I mean, shit, he’s a freaking drop-dead gorgeous famous NFL player. He probably has girls throw themselves at him seven days a week.
“Because we…you know…” I chew my lip, locking my gaze on the swell of his bicep.
“Almost did it,” he finishes quietly, the brightness of his smile visible in the dark.
“Yeah. But you, you know…changed your mind. Which is totally fine,” I add quickly, forcing a smile. “I just wanted to…clear the air.”
“Kendall.” He laughs out my name, and suddenly those giant arms are wrapped around my entire body, embracing me in heat and safety and granitelike muscles.
I relax and let him hug me, laughing a bit myself at the awkwardness of the words lingering in this tiny room.
“That was forever ago.” He pulls his head away, but keeps his arms locked around my back, meeting my gaze with a lighthearted spark.
“I know. And I’d basically forgotten about it—or at least repressed it. But now you’re here, and you’re…” I look up at him, still savoring the strong security of his arms around me. “You,” I finish, the syllable barely audible over my thumping heart.
He slips his arms away, and my tension eases. “Kendall…” Running a hand through his short, dark curls, he looks at the ground. “It’s not like I didn’t want…” He swallows, searching for the right words. “Turning you down wasn’t easy. It just felt like it would be wrong. You’re my best friend’s sister. There’s definitely some sort of unspoken bro code about that kinda thing.”
“Yeah, I figured. I just really thought we…you felt something. It was stupid.” I wave a hand. “I was a kid.”
“Of course I felt something.” His gaze is smoldering, with sparks lighting up the darkness of the room. “But like I said, you’re Wyatt’s sister. And I was twenty-two. My status was skyrocketing, and life was throwing more stardom at me than I knew what to do with. I was so into you that night…and I sure as hell never saw you as just a slam. But I was in no position to start anything serious, and I knew if we slept together that night, I’d have ended up hurting you. In turn, pissing off Wyatt. A lot. I was young and selfish, and I was just trying to prevent a big mess.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and my throat tightens.
Somehow this explanation of my rejection is making him seem so…good. He’s deeply and fundamentally good. I know damn well if we’d had sex that night, I would have woken up even more head over heels than I was to begin with.
He’s right. It could never have just been sex.
I look deep into his eyes, noticing the glimmer of tiny gold flakes. “Thank you.” The phrase tumbles off my tongue before I even understand why I’m saying it.
I just thanked him for rejecting me and mortifying me and burning into my brain the most embarrassing moment I can remember having?
“For what?” He smiles a little, angling his head toward mine, his lips dangerously close.
For being made of pure gold and reaffirming every reason why my teenage self had our entire wedding and honeymoon planned.
“For doing the smart thing that night,” I answer. “And for making me feel a lot better about it now.”
He smiles again, bright and wide this time. “See? No weirdness.”
“No weirdness,” I whisper, the words mixing with the heat of this room and floating around us, seeming to push us together like magnets.
“But, Kendall…” He draws out my name.
“Yeah?”
“That wasn’t a secret. I already knew about that night. I was there, remember?” He winks.
I roll my eyes and give his chest a friendly shove. “And?”
He points playfully to the ground. “I believe we’re currently standing in the secret room, and by the power vested in me as owner of this lovely and bizarre mansion, I declare you have to tell a secret.”
Laughter tickles my chest, and I brush my hair away from my face. “Come on. That was even worse than a secret.”
“Then it should be easy.”
I wrinkle my nose, watching him study me and admire me. “Okay, fine. You want a secret, Andre Smoke?”
He nods. “Spill it.”
I suck in a breath, unsure if this room has some kind of truth serum infused in it, or if I’m just feeling weirdly confident, but I go with it. “I had, like, a major crush on you growing up.” I spit the words out as fast as I can and cross my arms. “There. Secret’s out.”
He gives an exaggerated gasp and leans back, a sexy, playful humor in his expression, putting me even more at ease. “You what?”
“Shut up,” I mutter, turning away and trying to stifle the blushing smile warming my face.
“Honestly, I’m floored.” He reaches out and gently holds my chin, turning my head back to face him. Somehow he’s even closer now. Or this room got smaller. “I never, ever could have guessed.”
I cringe a little, laughing. “It was that obvious?”
He angles his head. “Maybe a little. I noticed you’d barely speak when I was over, and you’d always conveniently go outside and read your books on the front porch when Wyatt and I played ball in the yard.”
I frown, narrowing my eyes. “What if I just liked reading outdoors? Not everything is about you.”
“In the snow?”
I shrug. “I like the cold.”
“So you moved to South Florida?”
“Needed a change.”
“Yeah.” Andre inches closer to me, our bodies practically touching each other now. “Me, too.”
As he gets closer, my back is pressed against the concrete wall. I feel my chest rising and falling, my heart rate skyrocketing.
His soft, sweet lips part slightly, teasing me and begging me and inviting me.
He slips his hand around my cheek and onto the back of my neck, drawing my mouth closer to his and sending waves of hot desire crashing over me.
I pull in a sharp breath, but words get caught in my throat as I meet his gaze. Those haunting eyes are melting me, weakening me in a new and even more intense way than ever.
What is he doing?
I swallow hard as the concrete walls of the safe room seem to block out any sense of reality that could possibly slide into this moment.
Suddenly, he presses his lips to mine, and a tiny sound of surprise and pleasure and passion slips out of my throat.
Andre Smoke is kissing me. Hard.
Instinctively, I wrap my arms around his back, clutching his muscles and clinging to him as my knees turn to liquid and my chest fills with butterflies.
I kiss him back, letting the world spin and swirl and shift around me.
He moves his hand up to the back of my head, gathering my hair and giving it a gentle but commanding pull.
I give in to him easily, letting passion and desire wash over me as heat rushes between my legs and fireworks explode in the tiny room.
His body is solid and firm against me as he gently parts my lips and angles my head toward him, kissing me deeper and sliding his tongue delicately into my mouth.
More heat curls down my spine, and I ache for every inch of him to be on me and against me and inside me.
I wish this didn’t feel so goddamn…perfect.
A second later, he draws back, leaving me flustered and breathless and begging for more.
I take in a shaky breath and gather myself, reaching up to fix my hair. “What was…that?”
He narrows his gaze, his eyes gleaming with lust and fire. “That was for your crush.” He holds my waist, his lips tickling my nose.
Suddenly, reality crashes over me like a tidal wave. I cannot be kissing Andre. He is a client. This is a project. A massive, critical, unbelievably important project.
Not to mention…for whatever reason it might have been, he still rejected me. And that was after years of barely noticing me and, if he did, barely acknowledging my very existence.
But apparently, my hormonal teenage self decided to come back out to play as soon as I laid eyes on him. And apparently, it was…mutual. A word I never thought in a million years I would use to describe my feelings toward Andre Smoke.
I force a smile and slide out of his grasp, knowing damn well this is not how I anticipated this conversation playing out.
Confusion and adrenaline and arousal all swirl through my body and brain in a cocktail of emotions.
Finally, I blink and clear the hazy lust from my head. A little. “Okay, crush kiss.” I nod with certainty and pat his chest. “And now it’s out of my system,” I say matter-of-factly. I attempt to brush the wrinkles out of my T-shirt. “Over with.” The words taste bitter.
He raises his brows, and his eyes flash. “All right, then. Over with.” He draws out the words as if he doesn’t like the taste of them, either.
“Now we can just…” I hold up my hands, sighing deeply and attempting to relax. “Focus on the renovation. Leave all this behind us.”
“My intentions exactly.” He smiles, but it’s missing its usual light.
“Good.” I clear my throat, holding his gaze, those mesmerizing eyes saying anything but this is over.
“Good.” He opens the heavy door, and light from the study pours in, dumping real life and real world all over the moment. His arm flexes as he holds it wide open for me.
I slide past him, trying my absolute hardest to shake the pesky and ridiculous thought that keeps racing through my mind.
I still want you to be my first.
Eight
Andre
I’m running. I’m running for…fun? That’s weird. I hate running…unless there’s a ball in my hand and an end zone in sight. Then it’s the best feeling on earth.
But right now, there’s no field or end zone or roaring crowd. There’s an ocean to my left and glass mansions to my right, and I couldn’t seem to sit fucking still this morning, so here I am. Running.
I guess my Riders conditioning session in a couple of hours just doesn’t seem like it’ll be enough to clear my head.
As I dig my feet into the sand, harder and faster with every stride, I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket and slow to a jog to check the screen.
Incoming call: Wyatt Collins
My chest tightens a little, the image of making out with his precious little sister—who I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on—slams through my head.
But hey, maybe he just wants to catch up. I never ignore a call from my best friend, and today is no different.
“What’s good?” I stop my jog and walk to catch my breath.
“Smoke, my man. How’s beach life treating you?”
I ease a little, hoping he didn’t call specifically to ask about Kendall. “It’s so lit, bro. I was actually just running on the beach now when you called. It’s hotter than Satan’s balls, but the ocean is super nice. Team and staff are all great, too.”
“Glad to hear it,” he says on an easy laugh. “I always knew you were secretly a beach bum.”
“Yeah, I got the bug, I guess. How’ve you been?” I crouch down and sit in the sand, running a hand through my hair.
“Same old, same old. You see we wrecked the Pats on Sunday?”
“Hell yeah. You had a couple nice plays in there. We’re both undefeated after week one, huh?”
Wyatt chuckles. “That’ll change in a few weeks when we head down there and hand your little South Florida asses to you.”
“Oh shit. I forgot the Vikings-Riders game is coming up that soon.”
“Yeah, man. Gonna be a trip. Oh, by the way,” he says quickly. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. How’s Kendall? She’s been hella busy, so I haven’t talked to her much, but she said something about her company renovating your new house? That’s awesome, bro!”
Did she say anything about my tongue being in her mouth last night?
“Oh yeah. I figured she’d filled you in on that. But there’s this TV contest for house-flipping companies like hers, month-long mansion or something like that. Anyway, she needed a house to upgrade, and apparently I bought her fantasy dream property, or I guess my agent did. So when I went to her office that day she told me about it, and I figured, fuck it. Let’s ride.”
“I always knew you were a real homey,” Wyatt says, a hint of joking in his voice, but I can tell he’s genuinely happy about the situation. “You didn’t have to do that. It’s dope you’re giving her this opportunity. We only talked for, like, two minutes, but she sounded insanely jazzed.”
“No, I’m happy to give her the chance. I had no idea my agent purchased some sort of Floridian relic. She knows more about it than I do. Besides, you were so worried about her going out and whatever else, now I can confidently tell you that she’s spending all her time on this project.”
Wyatt lets out a sigh. “You’re awesome, bro. So, you really think I’ve got nothing to worry about with her being down there?”
I swallow. Just the fact that I can’t stop thinking about getting in her pants. “Nothing at all. We’ve been spending, um…” I grab a clump of sand and let it pour slowly through my fingers. “A lot of time together.”
“That’s great! I’m glad you guys are getting along well.”
I bite my bottom lip, debating for a second if I should just come clean to Wyatt. I hate keeping shit from anyone, especially the people I’m closest to.
“Yeah,” I say slowly, wiping a drop of sweat from my forehead and watching the waves crash by my feet. “It’s funny, Kendall was always pretty quiet growing up. I feel like this is the first chance that I’m actually getting to know her. Other than just as your shy little sis.”
“Yeah. Ken’s actually pretty cool now. She works her ass off at that company. I’m just glad she’s not partying.”
“Doesn’t strike me as the type. But, I mean, I can see why you were worried.”
Oops. Shit.
“Huh?”
“You know, like you said. She’s…awesome. And I know she’s your sister, and you still think of her as a little kid, but she’s…pretty.”
I sound like a teenager.
“And?” he says, slow and suspicious, and I can perfectly imagine his narrowed eyes and frown right now.
“I’m just…enjoying getting to know her.”
I tense a little, waiting to see where this goes and wondering if I was a bit too ambitious in my testing of the Wyatt Waters.
“Dude.” The syllable is harsh and certain and no-bullshit. “Keep your fucking hands off my sister. I know you’re not like a total playboy douche, but come on. I’ve seen firsthand the way you fuck around with chicks and bounce from one to the next like it’s nothing. We all know you can get any chick you want
in your bed with basically no effort, but if you so much as lay a finger on her, I will personally fly down there and kick your ass.”
My throat tightens, and I puff out a breath. His threat doesn’t freak me out. Wyatt couldn’t kick my ass. He’s a tight end, for Christ’s sake. But losing him as my closest lifelong brother? That would suck more than any ass beating.
“Yeah,” I say, basically a whisper. I clear my throat and shake out my hair, forcing an easy laugh. “Yeah, bro. Are you kidding? Of course. You told me to look out for her, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Good,” he says quietly.
I lean back in the sand, letting the warmth of the sun bake into my skin. “Speaking of Kendall, though, I was thinking. I should get her some box seat tickets to the game this Sunday. Should be a fun one. We’re gonna wipe the floor with the Titans, and she mentioned wanting to meet more people here outside of work. Do you think she’d wanna go?”
“Shit, man, for sure. That’s a great idea. Like we said, she’s been working her ass off. And if you’re right and she’s not going out, then she might like a little break. Besides, she can’t get into any trouble in the Riders family box suite,” he says with a soft laugh.
I chuckle, hating how much I like the idea of Kendall watching me play again. I never thought about the fact that she was in the stands in high school, or sometimes in college when her family would come to see Wyatt play. But now I feel like it’s all I would think about.
Besides, she said she wants to make more friends down here. Maybe this would help. All of the wives and family members I’ve met are awesome.
“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll leave her the tickets. She’s coming by the house later with her crew.”
“Sounds good, bro. Well, I gotta run.”
“All right. Peace, man.”
I hang up the phone and stare at it for a second before lying down in the sand, which completely coats my sweaty, shirtless back.
Whatever happened in the secret room last night cannot happen again. I’m not some shitty, selfish dude who would do something like that to his best friend.
Wyatt’s always been my ride-or-die. He was there for me after the tornado when I needed a place to stay for months at a time. He’s never let me down in two decades of friendship.
Rough Ride Page 6