International Player

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International Player Page 15

by Louise Bay


  “Lev just asked me to dinner. Again.”

  Abigail groaned. “He’s relentless.”

  “You don’t approve?”

  “For fun? Maybe, but the guy is a player. And I swear most men below thirty have an emotional age of fifteen. Anyway, are you even attracted to him?”

  I thought about it. He was attractive, there was no doubt about it. The last few years he’d discovered the gym and his success had brought confidence. And underneath it, he seemed to be a nice guy. “He brought you a gift. A book.”

  “He’s a sweetie. Underneath. But is there chemistry?”

  The only man I’d ever felt real chemistry with was Noah. “No, not really.”

  “If you’d just met him, I’d say you’d need to go out a few times to see if any developed. I’m not one of these who believes it has to happen the second you meet, but you’ve known Lev a long time.”

  “Yeah. I agree. I don’t want to date Lev.”

  “And Noah?”

  I tried not to tense in her arms. “What about him?”

  “Has anything happened since the kiss? Is it just a coincidence that we’re having this conversation now, despite me nagging you for years about finding new interests and a boyfriend?”

  I sighed and pulled away, then reached for my wine. “There’ll never be anything between Noah and me. I know he’s no good for me. I totally get it.” I turned the glass in my hand. “But I wonder if I’ll ever find anyone who is . . .”

  Noah was always going to be a player, and he never hid his past. Brunch had only been upsetting because I’d been pretending to myself that I could handle casual when what I wanted us to be was special. “I think I’ve been spending too much time with him.” I glanced up before correcting myself. “You know, because of all of his help.”

  “He’s quite flirty with you.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe a little. But that’s his nature, right?” I just wanted to come out and confess everything—tell Abigail about the way I dissolved under his touch, how I liked that he listened to what I said, even when I got passionate about the craziest of things. And although I didn’t want to hear my sister’s judgment and scorn, what I was really afraid of was if she knew that we were having sex, she’d tell me I shouldn’t see him anymore. My head understood that already. It was just my heart pulling me to him. Even now. Even after brunch and me realizing how I was in deeper than I’d ever wanted to go.

  “Maybe what you need to do is water down the effect of having him around. If he’s the only guy you spend time with, that could be dangerous, but if you were to get out and date more, perhaps your feelings for Noah would get weaker.”

  That made sense, didn’t it? Because I wanted my feelings for Noah to lessen. That was why I’d agreed to casual sex. I wanted to overwrite what he’d meant to me with something less important. I wanted to be over him. “I went on that date with that guy you set me up with, but he wasn’t for me, and it’s not like I meet many new people at the office. What do I do, sign up with an agency? Or create a profile on Grindr?”

  Abigail winced. “Well unless you have a pretty huge confession to make then I’m not sure Grindr is the right website, but online dating sounds like a good idea.”

  “Why don’t I qualify for Grindr?”

  “Urm, because you’re not gay and looking for a hot hookup.”

  My cheeks burned in embarrassment. “Oh. You see? This is why I can’t date. There’s so much I just don’t know. I’d make a complete fool of myself.”

  “You’re completely adorable. You need a man who will fall in love with you because you don’t understand what Grindr is, and one who’ll appreciate the fact that you know how many light years we are away from Mars.”

  Now she was just being ridiculous. “On average, Mars is only one hundred and forty million miles away. It’s not measured in light years.”

  “See? Adorable,” Abigail said. “I can see you with some professor type. Always carrying around books. Patches on his jacket elbows. You’ll have super-smart babies who you have to have by C-section because their heads will be so big.”

  “Jesus. The way your mind works is crazy. You act as if you’re the dumb twin, but we both know that’s not true. You just got a lot of other stuff I didn’t.”

  “We’re just different, Truly. And I love that you care about Mars and Keynes and Faraday and whatever else. It’s what makes you so special. We just need to find you someone who sees it, too.”

  Someone like Noah who wasn’t Noah. Except I wasn’t sure I was completely ready to give Noah up yet.

  “So online dating?”

  She nodded. “Grab my laptop and we’ll take a look at what’s out there.”

  Right now, as stupid as it was, I knew I couldn’t say no to Noah. Despite knowing he was bad for me, despite being disappointed in myself for feeling too much. Dating someone else might provide me with the strength to turn him away at some point.

  Online dating would be a good first defense, but I needed a double layer of protection from Noah. I also needed walls—more rules if I was going to continue seeing him. And although the best defense would be to put a stop to things between us, I wasn’t ready. Yet.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Noah

  I pressed my palms flat on the brickwork and tried to steady my breathing before I pressed the buzzer for Truly’s flat.

  She’d left Rob and Abigail’s with a small wave in my direction, and before I’d had a chance, Lev had offered to show her out. I’d nearly busted the beer bottle I was holding as I’d listened to her giggle as she chatted with Lev at the door. He’d come back with a smug, satisfied look on his face. I’d given it twenty minutes before I’d made my excuses and left.

  I had to see her. I wanted to know what was wrong—and I wanted her to tell me she wasn’t going to go to dinner with Lev or anyone else.

  I pressed the buzzer again and this time the answer was immediate. “Noah? What are you doing here?”

  “Can I come up?”

  She released the door. What was I going to say to her? I could hardly charge in and demand she not have dinner with anyone I didn’t approve of.

  “Hey,” she said, waiting in her doorway as I stepped out of the lift. She had her hair piled on top of her head and her yoga pants on—the gray ones that made her arse look particularly great.

  “Hey,” I said, raking my hand through my hair.

  “I saw you like half an hour ago.” She frowned as I stalked toward her.

  “I know. But I couldn’t do this to you then.” I snaked my arms around her.

  She pushed against my biceps as if she were trying to hold me back. “Noah. What are you doing here?”

  I released her a little, and she stumbled back, then turned and headed inside.

  “What happened at brunch? You just ran off and things have been off and today—”

  “Nothing. Would you like to sit down?”

  “I want you to tell me why things have been weird between us.” I wasn’t going to accuse her of being jealous, I’d sound like a dickhead, but if she was, I wanted to reassure her.

  I followed her through to the living room where her laptop lay open on the table, the screensaver on. She was always working. “You deserve the night off,” I said, nodding at the computer.

  She flipped down the lid and we both sat on her couch.

  “I’ve not seen Lev in a while,” I said.

  She didn’t respond.

  “I guess you see him a lot,” I continued.

  She shrugged. “Here and there. I’m not sure he and Rob are that close.”

  “He has a thing for you,” I said, wanting to see her reaction.

  She tilted her head sideways as if I were being ridiculous. “He has a thing for women.”

  It was clearly more than that. I imagined Lev wasn’t short of female company, but I could tell by the attention he paid her that he was definitely into Truly.

  “You’ve never been tempted? Or succumbed?”
/>
  “Succumbed? He’s not ice cream.”

  Was she being deliberately evasive? She was usually so honest about everything.

  She went to speak, then stopped. My pulse throbbed in my neck. Did she have something to confess? “Go on,” I said. “You were about to tell me something.”

  She shook her head. “I was going to ask a question.”

  “More deflection.”

  “Are you jealous?” she asked, her eyes sweeping over my face as if looking for clues.

  “I don’t get jealous. Just interested, I guess. Didn’t think he was your type.”

  She raised her eyebrows and turned so she wasn’t facing me on the sofa. “My type? What does that mean?”

  Her voice sounded a little clipped. I pulled her closer and despite her resistance, I slid her toward me so her thighs brushed mine. “It wasn’t an insult. He just seems a little . . . smooth. All about money. You know?”

  She turned to me, raising an eyebrow. “This coming from the multimillionaire player who ran into two ex-girlfriends at brunch.”

  So, this was about brunch. Well, I wasn’t about to let it drop. “So running in to Ginny did bother you.”

  “It did not. Why would it? We’re just casual. And no, I’ve never succumbed to Lev.”

  I mentally high-fived myself. I hated the idea of him being around her so much, of having some sort of claim to her. “And you’re not going to dinner with him, are you?”

  “Our arrangement . . .” She paused. “When I wrote out the rules, there was nothing that said anything about going to dinner with people. You’re free to have lunch with—”

  I cupped her face and rested my forehead against hers. “I don’t want to have lunch with anyone.”

  I wanted her to return the sentiment but she just stayed silent. “You’re here. Let’s just . . .”

  What? I thought to myself.

  Talk? There was no one else I wanted to speak to.

  Enjoy each other? There was no one else I’d have more fun with.

  Fuck all night into the early morning? There was no one better. No one I wanted to take to bed more.

  I stroked my thumb over her cheek and she began to pull away.

  Spotting something out of the corner of my eye, I released her and stalked behind the sofa. She still had it. The turntable I’d bought her. I peered behind it. And the record. “Shit, Truly.”

  She looked away. “What?”

  “You still have this?” Every memory I had of the accident came swooshing back at once. I pulled out the white sleeve from the cover and peered at the transparent, circular window. The Unforgettable Fire. The last time I’d heard this, I’d been here. With Truly. Tipping the black vinyl from the sleeve, I lifted the lid of the turntable and placed it on the metal spike with a satisfying squeak.

  “Noah,” Truly whispered. “Don’t.”

  Ignoring her, I clicked and pressed until the record spun. I nudged the arm onto the first track. Crackles and hisses rang out, followed by tinny, rapid drumbeats.

  “My dad loved U2.”

  “I remember,” she replied.

  I’d forgotten. As a kid, I’d listened to this album over and over in hospital. Played it nonstop for days on my headphones after I’d been told I’d never walk again.

  At first it had covered my misery, wrapped around me like a warm blanket until it had morphed and changed and became the fire underneath me—a soundtrack to my motivation to prove everyone wrong, to have a different kind of life than the one I’d been told was my fate. I’d left it behind with the therapy. Until I’d found it in that secondhand store and bought it as well as a turntable and brought it back to Truly’s.

  We’d listened to it together silently, side by side.

  Something had shifted that night. I’d wordlessly shared something with her that I’d buried deep down inside me. Fear. Sadness. A determination to fight for what I wanted.

  She was the only person I’d ever shared this music with. And she was now entwined with all those bad memories, pulling them into the light. Instead of fear and sadness, all I felt now was hope and happiness.

  She’d seen every part of me and she was still here.

  She knew everything there was to know about me, and I couldn’t think of anything better than that.

  She knew my past, and I knew I wanted her to be part of my future. But was that as a lover or a friend?

  The first track faded away into the next. She topped up our wine, and I pulled her closer. Our breathing synchronized and then the gritty, sexy pulse of the bass and the crash of the drums in “Bad” trickled through the speakers.

  “I love this one,” she whispered.

  “Me too,” I replied.

  “I play it on a loop sometimes.”

  She still listened to this? Even all these years later? Did she think about me when she did? “You do?” I asked, gently crawling over her so she lay flat on the sofa. Was this record and our history as important to her as I was beginning to realize it was for me? It was just a record, but it was also far more than that. It was about something painful for me that she’d made better by sharing it with me. And now it felt as if our memories and our past were inextricably mixed together. Perhaps our future was too.

  “When I don’t want to feel alone,” she replied, dusting my jawline with her fingertips.

  “You’re not alone,” I whispered and buried my head in her neck, tasting my favorite part of her. I never wanted her to be anywhere I wasn’t.

  I settled between her legs as she brought her knees up to either side of my hips. We fit perfectly like this.

  “Casual,” she whispered as if half asleep, her hands sliding my shirt up my stomach.

  “So beautiful,” I said, unable to take my eyes off her as she undid the buttons of my jeans and wrapped her hand around the base of my cock. I closed my eyes in a long blink. All these thoughts and feelings, about her, the accident, what was next for me. Everything was colliding all at once and yet it all made sense when I was with Truly. My past, my future, my fears, my hopes—everything seemed to be culminating, and at the center was the woman who knew me best, looking back at me with her amber eyes and well-worn yoga pants.

  She pressed her fingertips into the flesh just above my hips, and I kicked off my jeans, getting rid of any barrier between me and her touch. She got to touch me anywhere, and I wanted her touch everywhere.

  She made everything better. She made me better.

  Part of me seemed to belong to her. Did she know? Did she feel the same?

  I pulled back and looked her in the eye, trying to communicate how much she meant to me but unable to find the words.

  She unfurled a sexy, secret smile and I growled. I wanted to devour her.

  I pulled at her top and she pushed away my hands. “This is new. And I like it.” She lifted her t-shirt over her head and dropped it beside the sofa. I’d never seen the black lace bra underneath but it was perfect and showed off her smooth skin, tempting me with what it hid.

  I yanked down one cup and took a nipple in my mouth as Truly threaded her hands into my hair. She arched against me, making my heart race and my cock throb. I wanted to feel all of her all at once. Slipping my hand underneath her, I unclasped her bra and pulled it off, her heavy, delicious breasts spilling out from under the lace.

  Shit, this girl.

  I filled my hands with her, rubbing my thumbs over her nipples, relishing the softness in my palms, enjoying her.

  She wriggled, trying to free herself of her yoga pants and underwear, which were the only things that remained between us. It was too much. I was so desperate, so needy for her that I didn’t want to waste time with all these clothes. We should just stay naked forever. The desire to have her soft flesh pressed against mine without interruption took over, and I pulled back and tore off the rest of my clothes. “You’re so fucking beautiful I don’t know if I should just stare at you or fuck you.”

  “I choose the second option.”

/>   “You wanna get fucked?” I crawled over her, my dick jerking over her stomach.

  Her mouth parted and her tongue dipped out to wet her lips as she nodded.

  So sexy.

  I reached between her legs, checking for the slippery, wet skin, and gasping as my fingers pressed through her folds, and she moaned.

  “What is it with you?” She shook her head. “I just . . .” She frowned as if she was confused. “It’s like I lose all my self-discipline. Like my head turns to mush and all I see is you. I can’t get enough.”

  I grinned. I liked the thought of being the man who made this cerebral, always thoughtful woman lose her mind.

  Sex wasn’t just sex with Truly. Maybe it was because we were friends. Because I knew the way her brain worked. Understanding her heightened everything. It was ridiculous but sex had never been a shared experience before. It had been about lust and getting off—mutual but separate. With Truly it was all so connected—I knew what she was thinking, what she liked, why on some days it took her longer to come. And I enjoyed working out all those little details. It was as if my vision was sharper when I was with her.

  She fisted my cock, pulled her hand up and released me. It was her sign that she was impatient. She didn’t want to waste time with my mouth on her. She wanted me to fuck her. To fill her up. To make her come.

  And it would be my pleasure.

  I pulled a condom from my wallet, and Truly sighed.

  “Be quick,” she said.

  Her nipples pebbled and her skin flushed.

  “Be careful or I might make you wait.” I rolled on the condom. “I might take you right to the edge over and over and not let you come.”

  Her eyes widened in shock, and her breaths came a little shorter.

  “Later, Truly.” I was far too hard and far too ready to be able to follow through on my threat. “Just now, I’m going to give you exactly what you’re desperate for.” I pressed my tip against her hot sex, my jaw tightening as I tried to keep from shoving straight into her.

  She pawed at me, pulling at my shoulders, needing more.

  The feeling was mutual.

 

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