It was letting him have a part of me no one else had ever been given.
Sure, I kissed other people in the past, but how empty every single kiss had been. Kisses that made me lonelier. Kisses that left me reaching for a connection. Eventually, I began to realize I wasn’t going to connect to anyone.
Until Hopper.
I digress. Making out wasn’t really the point here.
But clearly, it’s where my mind was.
We went to the hangar so I could sign the contract, but just as I was lowering the pen to the dotted line, Hopper put his hand over mine.
“Not yet,” he said. “There’s something I want to do first.”
The first turned out to be packing up all my shit and driving across the state. I could barely concentrate on the road in front of me because of the matte-black Audi in my rearview mirror. It was kinda torture to have him so close, but not right there. All I could think about was us in the control tower. Us in his hotel room. Us in his bed.
The way it felt when he touched me.
No one had ever touched me like Hopper. I felt wanted when I was with him. It left me awestruck.
Halfway through the drive, my cell rang. I answered it without looking at the screen.
“Yeah?”
His voice filled my ear. “Take the next exit.”
I glanced in the rearview. “Everything okay?”
“No.”
I disconnected the call and hit the gas, swerved around some cars that were in my fucking way, and drifted around the curved exit ramp, straightening the wheel. There was a gas station on the right, so I pulled in, parked the car at the edge of the lot, and got out with the engine still running.
Hopper stopped right beside my car and did the same. He came around his hood, and I started toward him.
“What’s wrong?” I demanded.
We met beside the headlight of the Audi, but he didn’t slow. Instead, his hands grasped my face and pulled it in.
My blood pressure spiked at the way he attacked my mouth. No longer did the sound of passing traffic fill the air. I didn’t hear the purring engines of our cars or the scuffle of people walking in and out of the store.
I drowned in the way he desperately kissed me. The way his tongue stabbed my mouth and searched for mine. Need roared in my limbs. I reached for him, jerked his hips into mine so our bodies were pressed together. My chest heaved and my fingertips were likely leaving marks where I clutched him, but I didn’t stop.
“I really fucking needed that.” He gasped and pressed his forehead to mine. Strands of his hair tickled my forehead, and my stomach jumped.
Reality filtered back in slowly. The first thing I noticed was the sound of Justin Bieber’s music coming from the interior of the Audi.
My face split into a grin. God, I fucking love him.
The thought caught me off guard.
No. It fucking shocked me. Terrified me.
So much so I jolted backward and stared at Hopper.
His face changed, twisting into a look of concern. “A, what is it?”
It really isn’t a shock. I knew it. I felt it. My heart surrendered to him almost from the minute I saw him outside that fence. It was fast, so fucking fast. But those who thought it was too fast didn’t know me. They didn’t know how soft my heart was.
It was why I needed so many locks and such a high fence. Why I let Lorhaven stand in front of me.
What was so shocking was how easily the thought came. How loving him had become so obvious my brain automatically acknowledged it.
Oh fuck, the power he had.
That’s where the terror came in.
I was supposed to be taking back all the power I’d been robbed of. Not handing it over to someone new.
“Oh shit,” Hopper said. “Was that too rough? I shouldn’t have done that.” He grabbed the front of my hoodie, giving me little shake.
The only thing that could snap me out of my internal meltdown was his. Hopper started backing away, and I could tell by the set of his jaw he was angry with himself. He thought he’d hurt me.
I grabbed his hand, tugging him back. “You should do it again.”
His glacial stare widened. “Did I freak you out?”
“Again,” I demanded.
My hair fell over one eye when he pulled me into him, but I left it there. My eyes closed as his lips claimed mine. He took the lead, just like the first time. I loved it. I loved the way he was so sure but so tender.
His mouth lifted, but before he pulled back, he pressed one last swift kiss against me.
“So I take it nothing was really wrong?” I lifted an eyebrow as I waited for my heart rate to return to normal.
“Oh, something was wrong. The amount of time that passed since the last time you kissed me.”
I ducked my head and smiled. Sometimes I just didn’t know what to do with the blatant affection he gave so readily. I’d never, not ever, had someone pull off a highway in the middle of a road trip just so he could kiss me.
How far we’d come in such a short amount of time.
“Do you feel better?” I asked, rubbing my thumb over his lower lip.
“For now.” His fingers reached for mine, our palms pressing together when they tangled.
“What happened a minute ago? Where’d you go?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Nothing. I’m right here with you.”
He stared at me one second longer, then nodded. I knew he probably didn’t totally believe me, but that was something about us. We knew when not to push. We both understood that sometimes we had to confront the inner battle always waging inside.
Still holding hands, Hopper gestured to the gas pumps behind us. “You need to fill up?”
“Nah. We don’t have much farther.”
“Thank fuck,” He muttered.
I gave his hand a squeeze. “See you when we get there?”
On the way back to his car, I held his hand until our outstretched arms no longer reached and our fingers pulled apart.
I pulled out behind him this time, meaning I was the one in the rearview. My eyes stayed firmly ahead because that’s where he was.
Yeah, I could have confided how off-kilter my feelings for him knocked me. I could have showed him how hella scared I was now that my mind echoed in words exactly how I felt.
I didn’t.
This wasn’t his burden. And that was exactly it. I didn’t want him to feel like loving him was anything but absolutely amazing.
Because I did love him. I learned a lot from people over the years about how not to treat someone you loved.
I might not be ready to tell him those three words, but I would always, no matter what, treat him as if I already had.
I called ahead to make sure his apartment was ready.
It was the first of two stops today.
I was glad we had that time together before we drove down here. Time alone was going to be harder to come by after today. We had work to do, and I had a job that included managing more drivers besides Arrow.
Which was why I stopped him from signing the contract. I wanted to make a few things crystal clear beforehand.
“What floor do you live on?” Arrow asked when we stepped into headquarters, on the side where the staff apartments were.
“Third. Same as you.”
He was surprised, just as I knew he would be. The doors to the elevator were closing when he said, “You already know what floor I’ll live on?”
I shifted one of the very few boxes he’d brought into one arm and fished a set of keys out of my jeans. “I’ve already got your key.”
His head drew back. “I haven’t even signed yet.”
“Just a detail,” I answered. Truth was I had this place readied for him before I even knew for sure he was going to sign with NASCAR. It became increasingly important to me that Arrow have a place of his own, a real place and not some cot in a garage.
“The apartments here are already furnished. They’re practical
ly move-in ready, so any new Gamble team member can move in as soon as needed,” I explained as the elevator glided to a stop. “So it didn’t take much to have it ready.”
“Is it just a coincidence my place is on the same floor as yours?”
I glanced at him as the doors opened, revealing a standard wide hallway with gray carpet and white walls. “What do you think?”
Arrow smiled, and I continued down the hall. The apartment on the other side of me was already occupied, but having him just down the hall was better than one floor up.
He was quiet as he followed me toward the glossy black door with the pewter identifier on the surface. “3E,” I told him, stopping in front of his new front door.
He still said nothing. I glanced around, and he shrugged, sheepish. “I’ve never had my own place like this.”
He was nervous.
“Well…” I scoffed. “Don’t get too excited. This place ain’t nothing fancy.”
He chuckled, and I slid the key into the lock and pushed open the door.
The fresh smell of paint wafted out, which made me curious, but I stepped back and motioned for him to go in first. “Welcome home.”
Arrow adjusted the boxes in his hands and slipped past.
I followed along closely but stopped to push the door shut with my foot.
Arrow walked into the center of the open-concept space and looked around, taking it all in. Off to my right was the island that separated the kitchen from the rest of the place. It was topped with gray-and-white marble, and I set the box in my arms on top of it.
“You said it wasn’t anything fancy,” Arrow said sardonically, gesturing to the room we stood in.
“Did I mention Joey and Lorhaven might have been here?”
I wasn’t lying when I told him the apartments here were furnished, but they weren’t that fancy. They were basically blank canvases with basic furntiure. They didn’t boast the homey feeling most places had because they’d been designed to work for varying people and styles. It was up to the tennant to make them a little more comfortable or “lived in.”
I’d lived in my place for a little over five years now, and it still looked as non-personal and cold as the day I’d walked in.
Not Arrow’s place.
I’d taken a chance and called Joey yesterday. I was worried she might not pick up, but after Lorhaven admitted she missed me, I had to try.
I missed her, too.
She answered on the first ring. I thought it might be awkward, but it wasn’t, and the biggest sense of relief filled me. She’d actually given me hell for taking so long to call, and then we talked about everything just like we never took a break.
When I told her I was bringing Arrow down and he was moving into 3E, she immediately volunteered to get the place ready. I figured she’d put some milk in the fridge, maybe some sheets and blankets on the bed.
That’s not all she did.
I didn’t know if that girl had been watching HGTV in her free time or if she was just a damn good decorator, but damn… this place looked like someone already lived here.
Not only that, but they were stylish as hell.
The most prominent wall in the place, which was off to my left across from the open kitchen, was recently painted a deep shade of red. The rest of the walls were left in their original white.
There was a brand-new flat-screen hung in the center of the wall, with a huge cabinet below it that looked like a scuffed-up gym locker in a shade of gray.
Lining the red wall on either side of the flat-screen were framed posters of cars, all in black and white.
The standard black leather sectional didn’t appear so standard with red and gray pillows scattered around and a blanket that looked like a checkered flag draped over the back.
The customary glass-topped coffee table was gone, and in its place was a wooden tabletop in a distressed gray finish that sat on industrial-looking black wheels. The remote for the TV was the only thing on it, and beneath it was a large gray-and-white striped rug.
Over by the door we’d just come through, hooks lined the wall for coats and shit, but beneath it was a shelving unit with a bunch of open cubbies that I knew were meant for all his high-tops.
There were red metal barstools next to me at the island, and beyond it was the kitchen, which was pretty much average for these apartments, with white subway tile, gray-and-white marble counters, and stainless-steel appliances. The cabinets were black.
There was a new coffeemaker on the counter with a box of those pod things that went in it beside it. I knew without looking there were a few basic things in the cabinets, like some white plates, cups, and bowls, along with some silverware and a couple pots and pans.
Arrow wandered out of the living room and around the counter to look at the kitchen closer. In the center of the long U-shaped space was a rug in the same color and pattern as the living room. Something caught his eye, and he walked over to yank off a piece of paper pinned to the front of the fridge.
“Table’s being delivered next week,” he read and glanced behind him at the empty eat-in portion of the kitchen.
He set aside the note and opened the fridge. There was six-pack of beer in the center of a fully stocked fridge with a note that read: “Beer is from Jace.”
“They did all this?” Arrow twisted around to look at me.
My chest swelled with gratefulness. Maybe I’d been a little too hard on his brother before… Nah. Scratch that. But it was clear Lorhaven did care about Arrow. Joey, too.
“Bedroom’s through there.” I pointed to the only room leading off of the kitchen and living room combo.
Instead of heading right for it, Arrow crossed to me, slipped his hand around mine, and smiled. “Thank you.”
My eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t do anything.”
He made a sound. “We both know they wouldn’t have done all this if you hadn’t called my sister.”
I looked into his eyes. “They would have. Maybe just not as fast.”
“Thank you, Hopp.”
Emotion clogged my throat and chest. “Let’s go see what she did to the bedroom.”
The walls were left white in the square bedroom, but there was a rug and padded bench at the foot of the wooden-framed bed. Above it on the wall were more black-and-white posters hung in frames. Chrome lamps sat on the bedside tables with a docking system for his phone. Across the room on the empty wall was a standard dresser with a single framed photo of Arrow and his brother on top.
The bed itself was king-size and made up with brand-new white-and-gray bedding. It basically looked like a cloud with a gray furry blanket over the bottom quarter. My favorite thing about it was the single red, rectangular pillow in the center with a big white arrow on the front.
The bathroom was off the bedroom and was done in the same gray-and-white finishes of the kitchen. It was stocked with new towels and a rug in front of the sink.
How the hell Joey and Lorhaven got all this done in a day was beyond me.
“So what do you think?” I asked when we were back out in the living room. “Will this place do?”
“Are you kidding?” he replied. “This place is too good for me.”
“No,” I intoned, went to him, and grabbed his face. My eyes bored into his. “You deserve this.”
“Can I see your place?” he asked.
I didn’t try to convince him of what he deserved. Over time, he would learn. Until then, I would keep reminding him.
“It’s not near as nice as this.” I grinned.
“I don’t care.”
I knew he didn’t. It seemed material things weren’t very important to Arrow. He was very used to living with next to nothing… and that included affection.
I hated to think what he would be like now if not for his brother. Unreachable likely. Possibly unsavable.
I glanced down. We were holding hands again. I had no idea who reached for whom or when.
“You’re welcome at my place anytime
you want.” I promised. “I’m in 3A.”
“You may get sick of me.” He teased, but underneath, I knew he wasn’t joking.
I made a rude noise. “I couldn’t even drive across the state without stopping to get a fix of you.”
Arrow tugged at the hand he was holding and licked his lips. “You need another?”
I groaned. “Always.”
Without any warning, he pushed me up against the emtpy dining room wall and covered my body with his. He plastered against me and swooped in, our lips melting in a searing kiss.
There was something different about him this kiss. Something surer, something headier. He wasn’t shaking. He didn’t seem afraid.
Arrow was hungry, and it showed.
His hunger made mine more severe. As if it had been lurking, just waiting for the opportunity to come out and play. I didn’t know if now was a good time, but I was too far gone to really think.
Arrow’s hands slid up beneath my shirt, his fingers rubbing over my abs and chest. My nipples tightened so fast they actually hurt, and when his thumb flicked over it, I moaned.
He lifted his mouth, scorching me with the heat in his stare, and I nodded, assuring him everything was all right.
His hands left my chest, tugging at my jacket and shirt.
I pushed off the wall and allowed him to shove the coat down my arms, and it hit the floor with a slap. Arrow reached around me, grabbed a fistful of my shirt, and pulled. I lifted my arms to make it easier, and he tossed the shirt over his shoulder.
His eyes were like two bolts of lightning cracking over my skin. I felt scorched and electrified all at once.
“Hopp,” he murmured, rubbing his palms over my pecs.
“Babe,” I uttered as the back of my head hit the wall.
I felt his stare again, so I opened my eyes. He gazed at me with equal parts longing and surprise. I searched my mind, wondering what I’d done.
I’d called him babe.
It was like a suckerpunch to my gut. How easily that term of endearment slipped out. “I didn’t realize—” I began, thinking he must not have liked it.
“Say it again,” he demanded.
I liked his bossy side.
I shoved my fingers through his blond strands of hair. “I fucking love when you kiss me, babe.”
#Blur (The GearShark Series Book 4) Page 26