by Saxon James
“Ah, hey?” I answer cautiously.
“Hi, Taryn. How are you doing?”
I frown at the weird pitch in his voice. “Good, thanks. How are you?”
“Yeah, good.” It’s like I can hear him smiling. “I saw the game last night. Looks like the team is really coming together.”
“Let’s not get too excited. It was one game.”
He laughs softly. “Always so hard on yourself.”
“Hmm…” I don’t expand on that. “Why are you calling me?”
Liam sighs. “Just, I dunno, checking in. I meant it when I said I’ll still be here for you.”
“Umm… yeah.” His words make sense, but it’s all a bit much, too fast.
“Sorry,” he whispers. “It’s weird, I know.”
“It is.”
“I just…” He takes a deep breath. “Don’t get mad, but I know you don’t have a lot of people to talk to, especially about you know, so I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”
It all suddenly makes sense. “Ah… so this is a pity call?”
“Taryn…”
“It’s cool, I get it. But for the record, I’m talking to people just fine.”
“Well… good.” There’s an awkward beat of silence. “So. Where are you off to? It sounds like you’re driving.”
I tense at the question. “Ah, going to see a friend.”
He doesn’t answer right away. I thought my answer was safe and unassuming, but clearly, I let something slip because his answer isn’t what I expect.
“Be careful.”
I press my lips together. “He’s just a friend.”
“You don’t need to lie to me.” The smile is back in his voice, and while I admit to wanting to hear a little jealousy there, I don’t pick up on anything. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to move on, but be smart about it.”
“Smart,” I scoff.
“Yes, smart. You can’t hook up with just anyone, Taryn, but you also can’t be in a relationship right now. Make sure your friend can be trusted. I’d hate to see you outed before you’re ready. Especially after everything we went through.”
Liam’s right. With him, it was easy. We went from college to the real world and kept the same lines drawn we always had. He knew me before the NFL happened, and I never once questioned if I trusted him.
“Well, with you gone, I have to take my chances.” It’s a low blow, and I know we made the right call, but there’s part of me that just wants to be bitter about it.
“Taryn…” It’s his cut the shit tone. “That’s not fair.”
I sigh. “Look, I gotta go.”
“I know, I know. And I meant what I said. It’s okay for you to move on.”
Something about his words makes me feel sick. “Have… have you moved on?” Even as I ask it, I don’t want to know.
He sighs. “I’ve got to go.”
It’s as good as a confirmation. I hang up without answering him.
I’m tempted to turn the car around and head home to wallow in self-pity, but then I remember that while Liam might have moved on, I’m about to as well. And Elliot is as good a person to move on with as any.
I put my foot on the gas before I can talk myself out of it.
Yep, I’m “thinking with my dick” personified.
Jesus.
I get to New Jersey and check the address Elliot gave me. As I pull up to the curb in front of a rundown apartment building, the nerves in my stomach twist tighter. Is it possible Elliot’s a serial killer? Am I really this fucking desperate to get laid? Who am I kidding? I’m risking my entire career to be here. A little potential murder isn’t going to throw me off now.
I suck in a deep breath, grab my cap, and try to swallow back the uncertainty threatening to overwhelm me.
“Shit…” I quickly tilt the rearview mirror down to check my face. There’s nothing on it, so there’s no more reason to delay.
Cool air hits me as I climb out of the car into the night. There’s barely the faintest trace of light out on the horizon, but the dirty brick buildings around here have thrown the street into shadow. I reach the door and buzz the number Elliot said.
The time between the obnoxious buzz and an answer stretches on. It’s already past eight, so he’s got to be home by now. But damn, what if he’s changed his mind? Would he do that, knowing I’ve driven an hour and a bit to see him?
I cringe at that thought, because if that doesn’t make me sound desperate, what the hell will? Stepping onto the street, I lean back and look up, trying to pick which apartment is his.
“T?”
I jump at the voice, but relief sweeps over me at the sight of Elliot jogging along the sidewalk. He’s carrying a takeout bag, and his hair has been pulled back into a short ponytail, a few chunks falling loose around his face. His defined lips pull back in a smile as he holds up the bag. “I grabbed dinner.”
My stomach knots on itself as I take him in properly for the first time. And yeah, he’s hot as hell, but even as I’m looking at him, I’m remembering our endless conversations and the way we seem to just click. It adds even more pressure to a moment that’s already short-circuited my brain.
I cock an eyebrow he won’t be able to see. “I didn’t realize this was a date.”
“Don’t worry.” He smirks as he pulls out a key to unlock the door to the building. “I figured we’d need some energy for the night ahead.”
I lick my lips, barely able to keep still. His wide shoulders in that dress shirt… the long line of his neck… I’ve hit the fucking jackpot. And knowing that he’s just as fun to talk to as he is to drool over has me beyond nervous.
Because I still have to tell him who I am.
I’m sure Elliot still hasn’t gotten a good look at my face. I want to keep it that way for as long as possible, but with every step we take up the dingy stairwell, I’m so aware of my time running out that I barely take the time to check out his perfect ass. And it is perfect. But I won’t be able to properly appreciate that until I’ve gotten this over with. I’m practically vibrating at the thought.
On the third floor, Elliot turns and heads down the hall. “Now I’ll warn you, it’s not much. And I’m not being modest about that. I literally rented the cheapest place I could find.”
He’s not lying. The door he opens to his apartment has paint missing, and there are dints in the frame. The wooden floors are scuffed, and the entrance light is a bare bulb that throws harsh yellow light through the space. As soon as he clicks it on, I quickly angle my face down, hoping my cap still hides most of my features.
I follow him through to the living room, awkwardness setting in. Is this what every hookup is going to be like? A long stretch of awkwardness, fucking, then more awkwardness. Is that even something I want to go through? The nerves in my stomach flutter with excitement and I decide that yes, we’re doing this.
Elliot sets the takeout on the counter before turning to me. I quickly drop my face again and he starts to chuckle.
“What’s going on, T? You don’t seem like you want to be here.”
“Are you kidding? I don’t drive over an hour for just anybody.” I manage a smile. It’s not genuine.
At least Elliot makes an attempt to smile too. “Why don’t you want me to know who you are?” His words aren’t accusing, though they’d have every right to be.
I’m hovering in the small space between the living room and the kitchen counter, and if we’re having this conversation, I might as well get comfortable. I cross over and drop onto his couch.
“I’m not out at work because coming out means risking my career and facing a whole lot of shit from a whole lot of places.”
“That’s not cool. There are laws to stop that kind of discrimination, you know.”
A bitter laugh falls from my lips. “Maybe. But people have other ways of fucking your life up.”
There’s a clatter and the sharp click
of plastic containers opening. Elliot doesn’t respond for a minute until he crosses back into the room, hands me a bowl of Chinese food and a glass of wine, then collapses onto the couch next to me.
Instead of digging in, he sets his bowl on the table and leans back. “If it helps,” he says quietly, “I’m not wearing my glasses, so I can’t see you clearly. Maybe we do… whatever tonight, and then that’s it. You don’t have to worry about me outing you, and we both move on.”
I frown, spearing a chunk of beef with my fork, then chewing it slowly. “So… we wouldn’t talk anymore?”
“If you don’t trust me, there’s not much point, right?”
“I guess, but I really like having you there.”
“I’m not a replacement boyfriend, T.” His words are soft, but anger flares through me.
“Exactly. So why the fuck are we sitting around eating and drinking wine? And talking about feelings?” I drop my bowl on the table, still mostly full.
Elliot chuckles and leans forward to nudge it back toward me. “Eat your fucking food. Like I said, you’ll need your energy. It’s going to be a long night.”
My cock twitches at his suggestive tone, and the anger seeps out of me. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”
I shovel dinner down as quickly as I can, then follow it with my wine. Elliot watches me, and I’m a little worried he was lying about the glasses thing earlier, but if he was, it’s way too late to back out now.
“Did you mean what you said? That I don’t have to tell you who I am?”
His face scrunches up a little. “I don’t know. It’ll be weird not knowing your name and not being able to see you properly…” He leans back into the backrest, knees spreading as he slides down. I can’t help it as my gaze drops along his stomach to his jean clad thighs. Damn, he’s pretty.
I haven’t had a one-night hookup in… ever. Liam and I got together pretty quickly in college, and before him there were a couple of guys I messed around with in high school. But one-night stands? This is all new.
And if I think about it, it doesn’t seem fair to ask so much from Elliot.
I clear my throat. “Where are your glasses?”
“In my work bag. I took them off because they make me look nerdy. I can still see without them, but it’s pretty fucking blurry up close.”
I stand up and head for the messenger bag he threw on the ground. His glasses are sitting in the side, and I quickly grab them before dropping down beside him again. “Please understand that I’m trusting you.”
Elliot hesitates, then reaches for the glasses. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yeah, I do.” I pull off my cap and run the other hand back over my short hair. “But before I tell you, I need you to delete all of our messages.”
His face is blank. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“No,” I sigh, running a hand over my face. “I’m sorry. I know it’s an asshole thing to ask.”
Elliot’s eyes narrow a little as he tries to focus on my face. “Yeah, fine,” he mutters. Pulling out his phone, he slides on his glasses, pulls up our messages, and deletes them all.
A little of my tension lessens. “I’m sorry,” I murmur. Because I am. Because this whole situation sucks.
“I know you are.” He still doesn’t look up.
My stomach is in my throat as I reach out and tuck some of the loose hair behind his ear, letting my fingers hover by his neck. Touching him for the first time. His eyebrows draw tight, and he finally looks over.
And, goddamn, he’s gorgeous. The glasses set me off, and any of the awkwardness I was feeling completely disappears, replaced by this overwhelming need to slide my hand behind his neck and pull him to me.
He stares at me, a slight frown between his eyebrows.
“Do the Philadelphia Sharks sound familiar?” I ask.
That’s when recognition hits him. His eyes widen a tiny bit, and his pouty lips part. “You’re—”
“Taryn Adderson. Yeah. Now do you understand?”
“I do,” he breathes, running a hand over my jaw. His face scrunches up. “I’m sorry, but we can’t do this.”
Chapter Eight
I’m speaking through the shock, not even fully aware of the words coming out of my mouth. Taryn… Adderson? A football player. A big time football player is sitting on my couch, wanting to hook up—is this a prank?
I want nothing more than to offer myself up on a platter for him. To grab his shoulders, shove him back into the couch, and go down on him before he has a chance to catch up with what’s happening.
And I can. He’s giving me that option.
But I’m also not an idiot.
It takes every bit of my self-control to stay put.
Taryn lost the guy he was in love with to keep his career, if he knew what I did for a living…
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head and pull back. Congrat-u-fucking-lations, Elliot. You’re a real mature adult.
“W-what…” Understandably, he looks lost. “What’s happening?”
I groan, leaning forward to rake my fingers through my hair. If only I could go back and take my glasses off and forget who he is. I take a breath, forcing myself to sound in control.
“Look, I’m sorry. I know it sucks, but trust me when I say you don’t want to go through with this.”
He blinks. “I’m pretty sure I do, so you’re gonna have to be more specific.”
“I don’t want to get into it, but our jobs… don’t go well together.”
“Are you a journalist?” His eyes widen in panic and he goes to scramble off the couch, but I catch his arm.
“No, no, no. Definitely not. And even if I was, I swore I wouldn’t out you. That stands. I’m not a dick.”
Taryn snorts. “He says as he’s throwing me out.”
“Look, I don’t owe you anything.”
“I never said you did. I don’t expect you to bend over for me just because I drove out here, but a little explanation about why you suddenly find me so repulsive would be nice.”
“Repulsive?” I can’t help it, I laugh. There isn’t a single goddamn thing that could be considered repulsive about him, and every second he sits there is making it harder and harder for me to keep my resolve. “You’re basically the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”
“So…?” He throws his hands out to the side, and the poor guy looks seriously confused. My resolve drops a little. He’s been traveling all day, he played a game that he absolutely dominated last night, and he hasn’t hooked up since he broke up with his ex.
He needs this. I need this.
But fuck, I can’t. I definitely, one hundred percent can’t. It would be selfish and messy and… hot. He’s so hot. Those arms could lift me and pin me to the wall, and I can just imagine how much passion Taryn would put into a kiss. My blood is running hot and even as I try to convince myself that this is not okay my control is barely holding on by a thread.
“But… and we…” I swallow. It’s his big brown eyes that do me in. The moment they connect with mine I know I’m a goner. “Fuck it.”
I’m across the couch and straddling his lap before my brain catches up. “I really want to kiss you,” I mutter, staring at his lips. “But I shouldn’t.”
Too late. Taryn takes over and the second his lips meet mine, all control goes out the window. His mouth claims mine, greedy and insistent and the second my tongue grazes his I moan. My head is trying to remind me of how stupid I am, but no one saw him come over, so it’s not like one time is going to change anything.
Yep, I’m a selfish asshole sometimes.
But there’s no way I’d be able to turn away now.
“This is tonight only,” I mumble against his lips. Slowly, I ease out of the tight hold he has on my hips and make my way toward my bedroom. “Coming?”
Taryn doesn’t need to be asked twice.
I’ve barely reached the bedroom door when he grabs
my hips again, and Taryn’s stubble lightly scratches my neck. He hums against the soft skin, and it takes all of my self-control not to answer the sounds he’s making. His lips brush over my ear, my hairline, and down to the arch where my neck meets my shoulder. Each kiss is soft, sweet, but getting more insistent with each passing moment.
I go into my head, trying to focus only on the way his kisses run over my throat and prickle my skin, and I’ve almost managed to control my lust when Taryn bites down on my neck. Hard. “Argh.” His fingers dig tightly into my hips, and I let out a gasp, completely taken aback at how great it feels. He pulls away a second later to soothe the bitemark with his tongue, but that bite perked my cock right up, and now I know exactly what I’m in the mood for.
“Sorry,” he breathes, not sounding sorry at all.
So I take a subtle step back and press my ass against him. I feel exactly what I’m after right away. “Doesn’t seem like it to me.”
Taryn growls against my neck, forcing my hips away again. “I… really want to be rough with you.”
“Then stop handling me with kid gloves.”
He finally releases one hip, his hand sliding up my ribs and across my chest, to lightly cup my throat. He doesn’t apply any pressure, but I sigh at the teasing. “I’m not so sure you can handle it.”
I reach back, and in one motion, I grab his stupid hat and drop it to the ground. “Why don’t you try me, big guy?”
Before Taryn can get a good hold on me again, I duck away from him and cross the small room to my bed. He doesn’t make a move to follow. He just stands in the doorway, watching my every move, and I’m not sure which is hotter—his dark eyes watching me or him touching me.
I collapse onto my unmade bed, not wanting to discard my shirt as I’d prefer that was something he did. But even with that massive bulge in his pants, Taryn stays put, panting slightly, like he’s trying to get himself back under control.
Maybe I should be trying to get myself under control too.
Maybe I should be remembering who he is and what I do, but honestly…