“You’re a good friend.”
Friend.
The one thing I allowed myself to be with her. Since I wasn’t free for any girl to have, I could at least be friends. Her hand grazes the side of my leg, and I find myself shifting closer. “We’re a good team.”
She nods again, her mouth slightly parted. God, I want to taste her. It has been so long since I ravished a girl. Fuck. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything with a girl. My current situation doesn’t allow me to have physical contact with anyone. It would be so easy—so fucking easy—to give in to Lexie. To let go and bury myself in her. But how can I do that when I know nothing will become of us?
“That we are.” Lexie leans forward. Our knees brush against each other. Her breasts press against the side of my chest. I have to put a stop to this. I can’t let my hormones get the best of me, even though I seem to be gravitating to her. We’re mere inches apart. We’re so close; I feel her breath on my lips. Lexie closes her eyes.
“Lunchtime,” the project leader announces.
“We better get out there, or there won’t be anything left to eat with half of the offensive line showing up today.”
Her eyes pop open as confusion swirls in her globes. “Y-y-yeah. You’re right.”
Guilt washes over me. I’m so selfish. I want Lexie but can’t have her. And I don’t want anyone else to have her either. It’s hardly fair. I stand and hold my hand out only to have her bat it away.
“I’m fine.” Her tone is like a knife to the heart. She’s clearly annoyed. I can’t say I blame her. I’m annoyed with myself, too.
She pops up a little too fast. When she takes a step forward, she loses her balance and collapses into my chest. I grab hold of her, keeping her body next to mine.
“I’ve got you.”
She raises her chin back and looks me in the eye. They’re soft and wanting. She deserves better than me. But damn if I don’t want to be the man for her. “Thanks.”
I continue to hold her. She continues to hold my stare captive. Heat races through my veins and licks every nerve ending. My mind clouds.
“Garret?”
My name comes out as a soft question—a plea for some clarification. But I don’t understand this pull toward her myself. I bend my neck and plant my lips on hers. Three years’ worth of wanting each other crashes forth as her soft lips move in time with mine. Our tongues dance. I tilt my head, opening the angle just enough to deepen the kiss. Her hands glide across my rib cage to my back, balling my shirt in her hand. I grip her curves tighter and pull her next to me. I’m sure she can feel what she’s doing to my body, but at this particular moment, I don’t care. Not now. Not when I have the best damn girl in my arms moaning in appreciation of what I’m doing to her. God, I’d give anything to have the freedom to have her and to make her mine.
Fuck. What am I doing? I’m going to make this worse for us.
I stop abruptly and pull away. Lexie’s dazed as she looks up to me with swollen lips and smeared lipstick. I run my hands up her side until I reach her mouth. I wipe away the smudge with my thumb as our pants echo in the empty room.
That was the most incredible kiss of my life and also the worst mistake I’ve made. Well, not the worst, but a goddamn close second.
“We better get you that food.”
“Food. Yeah.” Her eyes widen as if trying to orientate herself. “Food. We get.”
I laugh a low chuckle and place my arm around her shoulder. “Come on, Blondie. We’ll get you fed and see how you feel.”
“Sure.”
The ramification of what I’ve done slams into me like a freight train. I just ruined three years of our friendship. Gone in one stupid uncontrollable urge. What the hell am I going to do now? She’s not going to let this kiss go. But I can’t act on it either. I can only hope by the time we’re through she doesn’t hate me. I hate letting people down. But that’s exactly what I’m known for.
Chapter Eight
Garret
High School
Senior Year
“I’m telling him tonight. I don’t have much choice. I’m starting to show, and all of my loose-fitting tops are getting too tight.”
My heart rate increases a beat as I squeezed my arms around Livia’s sweet body. The evening breeze kicked up, blowing her jet-black hair against my cheeks. With my back resting against an oak tree, she was positioned in between my legs as we overlooked the baseball field in my hometown park. It was a place we often escaped to since I wasn’t allowed at her house. A group of junior high aged kids played on the field. I rested my palms on the little bulge of her stomach and against the sweet bundle growing inside her that was part me, part her—us. I placed my lips against her ear.
“You mean, we’ll tell him tonight. You’re not facing that wrath by yourself.” Not on my watch. I knew how Mr. Fernandez would take it. He’d yell and berate her. She had a low self-esteem already due to his constant criticism. I wouldn’t let her face him alone, even if that meant he directed that anger toward me.
“Garret, he’ll unload on you.”
“I know, but I’m not going to pussy out.”
“Must you use that term? It’s so berating.”
I chuckled. “We’re about to be murdered by your father, and you’re worried about my colorful language?”
She placed her palms over my hands. “We don’t stoop to his level.”
“You’re right. We don’t.” I sucked in a long breath and released it slowly. The clang from the aluminum bat reverberated around us as yelling filled the air. I loved the sounds of baseball. “How are we going to do this? Just spring it on him?”
“Being direct is probably the best way. He’ll come unglued no matter how we approach it.”
He’d still insist on getting an abortion no matter how long we waited. She just entered her six-month of pregnancy, so technically, we were past the legal cutoff date. But we were talking about a highly influential man. I wouldn’t put it past him to either pay off or threaten a doctor to deem Livia’s health was at risk, which was why we waited until the last month possible. Thankfully, Livia was more rounded than most girls and hadn’t shown until recently. She also saw a different obstetrician. I paid for her healthcare needs, along with help from my parents. It drained my entire savings, but it was the only thing we could do to ensure her dad wouldn’t interfere.
And never mind the fact I got his underaged daughter pregnant. I still didn’t know how he’d handle that situation. I could only hope Livia talked him out of pressing charges. I knew he’d threaten me. That was a given.
“You know I love you, right?” I asked, mainly to reassure her. Her dad had her so browbeat; I made reassuring her a habit.
“I do, but I wish things could be easier for us.”
“Everything will be okay. I’ll look into couple housing at Cessna U. I was going to check on that this weekend.” I gave her another squeeze. “We’ll be okay. We’ll be sitting here ten years from now watching our son run those bases. You’ll see.”
The visual was beautiful. The only sonogram she had revealed the family jewels. I hadn’t cared whether the baby was a boy or a girl. But when they said boy, my thoughts immediately went to baseball and all the fun I’d have teaching him the game. My girlfriend quickly reminded me the same thing could be shown to a girl. I agreed and felt like an ass.
“After some time, he’ll come around. He always does.”
“I hope you’re right.” I wished I shared my girlfriend’s optimism. I didn’t see that man ever bending to me. If she believed there was a heart buried in that black soul of his, I wouldn’t be the one to burst her bubble.
“I am. You’ll see.” She leaned the back of her head against my chest. “I love you, Garret Cartel.”
I intertwined our fingers together and brought the back of her hand to my lips. With a soft kiss, I whispered the words, “We’ll be okay.”
I just wished I believed them.
“You’re
what?” The loud, demanding voice boomed down. Livia stiffened beside me. “I must’ve misunderstood because what you said sounded a lot like you’re pregnant.”
“You heard correctly. I’m pregnant.”
Mr. Fernandez turned his murderous eyes toward me. His jaw clicked. A red hue started at the base of his neck and inched higher. The scene reminded me of those old cartoons on Cartoon Network. If I waited long enough, steam would escape from his ears. I should fear him. The man demanded attention in the board rooms and made ordinarily strong people cower. But I had to be the strong one here. It sure the hell wouldn’t be Livia or her mom. Her mom sat on the couch with her hand covering her mouth like the feeble little mouse she was. With her shoulders tucked in, she was half the size of Mr. Fernandez. Her small frame wouldn’t look so meek if she stood up for herself. But I’d only seen her when her husband was around, and not once had I ever seen her stand up for Livia. Part of me hoped she would this time.
“You do realize she’s underage.”
“I’m aware, sir.” I nodded, gulping back the bile threatening to rise. This was my worst fear. He had every right to press charges. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do to fight him. I was entirely at his mercy, and he knew it. My goal was to convince him the baby would be better with a dad who wasn’t in jail.
He whipped his head back to Livia. “You couldn’t keep your legs closed? Not only do you insist on slumming, but you let him violate you?”
“With all due respect, sir—”
“You’d be best to keep your mouth shut if you know what’s best for you.”
Message received, loud and clear. I bristled but didn’t finish my thought.
“Dad, Garret didn’t violate me. It was consensual.”
“If I knew you were going to be a whore, I would’ve let a group of nuns raise you.”
“Livia isn’t a whore. I do love her.” I glanced at her mom. She continued to sit there as if afraid to move. This asshole’s control over this family sickened me. My parents were loving and kind. An environment I wanted Livia and our unborn child to experience. I needed to get her away from this toxic place.
“She had sex and got pregnant by you. She’s a whore in my eyes.”
“Daddy, I—”
“Don’t daddy me. You’re way past that point. From this day forward, you’re cut off from seeing him. I’ll call and set up the abortion. There’s no way we’ll have that bastard child in our family. I’ll call Principal Tallard and arrange for you to take a few days off from school.”
“I’m not getting an abortion.”
“The hell you won’t.” He whipped out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. “I’ll call Stan now.”
“I’m too far along. They won’t perform one. Besides, I won’t go through with it.”
His gaze dropped to her stomach, and his nose curled in disgust. I hated this man. “How far along are you?”
“Six months.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? It will cost me, but Stan owes me a favor. He’ll write the excuse that your life is endangered. We will get this taken care of.”
“I won’t get an abortion.” Livia wrapped her arms around her belly in a protective gesture.
“Listen to me. You’re not ruining your future for the sake of him.”
“It’s my decision.”
“If you go through with this, you’ll be cut from your trust fund.”
“If you think I’d choose money over my child, you don’t know me at all.”
“If you’re going to associate yourself with low-life trash, I don’t want to know you. Get out. I can’t stand to look at you.”
Livia glanced at her mom, who just sat there speechless. I didn’t understand these people. My parents worked hard and made ends meet with a decent living. How did having money determine you’re better? I’d take my parents’ unconditional love over power and wealth any day of the week.
“Come on, Livia,” I said.
“I’m calling Stan. You will get this taken care of.”
Those were the last words we heard as we exited her house, Livia sobbing against me.
Chapter Nine
Lexie
Current Day
Garret: Fun Fact: Bart (the head of grounds maintenance) isn’t respected enough. I swear I used muscles yesterday I didn’t know I had.
I’m half frazzled by the time I pull into Noah’s designated parking space for jock row housing. Noah hitches a ride with Braxton to school, so the spot is always available. Thank God. The last thing I want to do is waste time searching for a parking space. I’m already an hour late, thanks to Mom’s work. But I warned Garret this would happen since Monday evenings are notorious for her to work over. He said we’d be fine since all we have to do is finalize the specs before tomorrow’s class. And he’s right. It shouldn’t take long, but going over measurements is easier face to face than through email. I’m just not sure what to expect when I see him.
I adjust my glasses, wishing like hell I had kept my contacts in, and fluff my hair in the rearview mirror. We haven’t talked much since our kiss. Sunday came and went without much contact. The sod truck delivered three pallets of sod, so the guys and he pulled landscaping duty while I helped Grant prep the walls for the drywallers. Garret had left by the time I went back outside. I tried not to be disappointed, but that unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach grew, and if I’m being truthful, it hasn’t left.
A collective “come on in” greets me when I knock on the guys’ door. I push through, and a ball of golden fur runs up to meet me. I immediately drop to one knee. “Hey, Miller. I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
“Yeah, I didn’t get a chance to see him much over the weekend.” Garret shrugs. “Thought I’d have him tag along.”
Our gaze meets and holds. Warmth races through me like wildfire as the remanence of his kiss still burns inside me. We need to talk about what that kiss meant, or if it meant anything. Although it felt like something. It felt like the best kiss I’ve ever had. It certainly left me wanting more. More tasting. More touching. More him. I’ve never been so turned on and frustrated in all of my life. The frustration settling in because he hasn’t done it since, even though the way he eyed me during class screamed he wants to.
“Hey,” he says, lamely.
“Hey,” I parrot back just as lame. Fuck. I can tell he already has regrets. I break the eye contact first, kiss Miller on the head, and stand back up. If he’s going to tell me that spark between us meant nothing, then I won’t make it easy.
“Yo, Lexie,” Braxton hollers, followed by a chorus of greetings from the rest of the gang.
“Hey, guys. Who’s winning?” It’s not like I care when I usually do. Nothing matters right now except where I stand with Garret.
“Dodgers are ahead by three runs.”
“Sweet! It looks like we’ll be in the playoffs again.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Braxton says. He’s a bit sore because his Giants aren’t doing good this year. They lost to the Dodgers last year in the wild card game. And it doesn’t look like they’ll make the playoffs this year.
“Let’s go to my room. It’s less noisy up there.” Garret turns toward the stairs, not leaving me much choice. Not that I would protest, but this isn’t the greeting I expected after our shared kiss.
I follow him into his bedroom with Miller bringing up the rear. When he shuts the door, I place the book bag down, hating the awkwardness that settles between us. Even Miller must sense something off. He lets out a low whine, trots over to the far corner, and curls into a ball.
“Sorry, I’m late. All I can say is not to have kids. They’re the bane of all existence.”
His mouth flattens to a thin line. “Look, Lexie. I need to apologize for the other day.”
Trepidation claws at my throat. I fight to keep my expression neutral, but my acting skills aren’t good. I’m sure he can read every emotion fluttering though me. “For kissing me?”
I close the distance between us. He’s so damn tall, but I peer up into his eyes as if we’re on a level playing field. I want to make my point. “If I remember correctly, we both rather enjoyed it.”
Heat dances in his irises as he takes a deep, stuttering breath. “Liking it isn’t the question, Blondie. It’s a matter of overstepping my boundaries.” He steps back and runs his fingers through his hair until they stop at his neck. He leaves them there. His expression doesn’t mask a guy who’s turned on. It looks pained. How could I have misread the situation that much? I don’t understand. “Lexie, we’ve been friends for a long time, and we have this huge project we’re working on together. The last thing we need to do is jeopardize that.”
My mouth opens, but nothing spills out, disappointment rendering me speechless. I don’t even know how to react. Pawn it off as some weird thing between us or say nothing? At this point, I’m not sure it matters. I’m humiliated and frustrated. The last thing I want is for him to see how much his rejection hurts. I find my voice when pride claws its way back and settles in the empty spaces left by his words. “Okay. You’re exactly right. It was just a kiss anyway. Weird, right?”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend our kiss meant nothing when we both know it was so much more.”
What is he saying? “It wasn’t.”
He closes his eyes. His body tenses. His eyes reopen to a fire burning in their depths—a feral need that makes me stand at attention. It’s as if I’m about to be reprimanded for a crime I had no control over—the committed sin of making him want me when he clearly doesn’t want to. Confliction at its best.
“Make no mistake. If my circumstances were different, you’d be mine in a heartbeat.” His voice is as hard as every muscle in his body. His chin raises, just a nudge. A power play to let me know he’s in control. “I’m not free. I can’t commit to anyone long term, and I won’t use you like that. Our friendship means too much.”
Full Count (Cessna U Wildcats Book 3) Page 6