He laughs, shaking his head.
“Coach called a meeting, and I couldn’t make it work without risking missing practice.”
At this level, players don’t miss practice. Ever.
We talk a few minutes more, he makes me laugh hard enough I have tears in the corners of my eyes, and I flash my bra at him before we say goodbye. Couple more days and I’ll be back in his arms. In his bed.
Couple more days. No big deal.
Greg
I am not going to jump her at the front door.
That’s what I keep reminding myself every time I check my watch to see that another thirty-seven seconds have passed and I’m that much closer to Julia getting over here.
It’s been too long since I’ve seen her, had my hands on her, and the man downstairs has started hijacking my consciousness, planning all the ways he’d like to reconnect with her.
Up against the door.
On the floor in front of the door.
When he’s feeling particularly restrained, we make it all the way to the couch before I start tearing her clothes off.
But I’m not an animal. So when Julia gets here in the next twenty minutes, I’m going to hug her. Kiss her, with tongue, but only for a minute. And then I’m going to offer her a glass of wine and ask about her flight back and the game and all the other shit I’m really interested in but can’t seem to focus on because I keep thinking about taking her panties off with my mouth. Tasting her. Making her— Easy, man.
I’m going to offer her a glass of wine.
Any minute now.
There’s a knock at my door, and I force myself to walk through the living room, not run.
I’m not an animal.
I’m not—I jerk the door open, and before I can even say hello—hell, before I can even breathe, she’s launched herself at me, throwing her arms around my neck and showering my face with kisses.
I’m a big guy who takes hits from even bigger guys for a living, but the sheer force of Julia’s affection knocks me back a step. But I’m quick on my feet, recovering fast, and within a heartbeat, my arms close around her like a vise, one around her back, the other across her ass. Her ankles lock behind me, and that shower of kisses slides into a single, soulful, tender, achingly sweet kiss.
It’s good. It’s right.
Then it’s hot. And hotter.
Julia’s hands are everywhere, and by the time we come up for air, we’ve made it less than five feet into the entry, and my apartment looks like a laundry bomb detonated in it. Julia’s jeans hang precariously from the back of my couch. Her blouse is in a tattered heap surrounded by its own buttons in the corner. Her bra is under the entry table, and her panties are dangling from the coat closet’s doorknob. My track pants are caught around my ankle, and my T-shirt is under her head.
That’s right. I’m a fucking gentleman.
Julia brushes a bit of sweat-damp hair from her brow and smiles up at me. “Hi.”
Hi.
Because this is the first chance we’ve had to say it. Because she missed me, maybe as much as missed her. Because some things are as simple as that.
Jesus. I love her.
I open my mouth to say it, but fight back the words before they get free.
She isn’t ready to grab a cup of coffee with me down the street. No way she’s ready to hear something like that. I touch her face as gently as I can and breathe around the emotion shoving at the walls in my chest.
Glancing off to the side, she bites her lip. “Sorry about all that. I was going to try to be cool, but…”
And then we’re both laughing as I gather her up in my arms and carry her back to my bed where I toss her down with a bounce. Following that satisfying squeal, I climb in with her. She’s pressed against my chest, our limbs in the kind of intimate tangle that only makes me want to get closer.
She traces her fingertips over my jaw and down my neck. “I missed you.”
“Jules, our schedules make it hard enough to be together without adding in this secretive stuff. I don’t want to keep hiding that we’re together.”
Tucking her head into my chest, she closes her eyes. She doesn’t want to talk about it. Fight about it. Whatever. But I want to get this out.
“I know it’s not the same with your career as it is with mine.” All I have to do to stay on top is play better than everyone else. For Julia, it’s not just about the quality of her research, her ability to relay what’s happening on the field, or her unparalleled knowledge of the game. It doesn’t matter if she’s better than everyone else… not if the right people aren’t on her side. There are too many other bullshit factors to count. But even so… “Julia, it’s not like you’ve had some string of affairs with celebrity athletes. This is just a quiet relationship with a guy you’ve known from before either of us were in the national spotlight. No one is going to judge you for having a boyfriend.”
She presses a kiss to my chest and sighs. “People judge me for how I wear my hair at the games, Greg. They write letters when I look too sexy and they write letters when I ‘try to look like a man.’ The only thing they don’t write letters about is my love life. Because I’ve never had one.”
I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to be judged for something other than my merit. It pisses me off that Julia doesn’t have to imagine, because she knows firsthand.
“Can we just give it a little more time?”
“Yeah, Jules, of course we can.” What else can I say? I want to be with her. I just don’t want to hide it.
Julia
“There is definitely something going on with you.” Cammy sets the juice glass she was washing in the dishrack and crosses her arms. “You’ve got that panicky smile on your face and those weird splotches on your neck from when you’re freaking out. What’s up, Greg angling to plow the back fields?”
Tea spews out my nose, and Cammy nods, a satisfied smile on her face.
“What? No!”
After tossing me a rag for the table, she pulls up a chair. “Okay, then spill it.”
I don’t want to tell her. Saying it out loud seems somehow scarier than keeping it inside. But at the same time, something is happening within me, and I feel like I’m about to burst. Like, scary or not, I have to say the words.
“I think I’m ready.”
She leans forward, brows furrowed. “Ready? Umm, didn’t you say you gave up your dusty old V card to Dan Berling like a million years ago? Or, I mean, I was only joking about the back fields thing, but if that’s—”
My hand is up between us, my tea pushed a safe distance away. “I think I’m ready to go public about dating Greg.”
Cammy stares, her lips parted like she’s stunned into stillness.
Then slowly, she reaches for my tea and drains the mug. “Whoa, you two are really serious.”
I nod. Barely able to meet her eyes. “He makes me feel things, want things I’ve never wanted with another guy. He makes me feel safe, Cammy. Like for the first time in my life, the mistake would be not to give in.”
“Have you talked to him about going public?”
“Not really. He asked me about it when we saw each other on Monday. I put him off, but I haven’t felt right since. I keep telling myself not to get carried away. Not to be rash.” Not to get too invested in someone who might leave. “Not to let some guy jeopardize the life I’m building.”
Cammy reaches for my hand. “Not to be like Mom? Like me?”
I swallow hard, guilt pushing at my chest. “That’s not what I meant.”
She smiles at me, no judgment in her eyes. “You keep telling yourself not to let him in. And?”
“And it feels like he’s already there, Cammy. Like all I’m accomplishing by pretending he isn’t is hurting us both.”
Cammy nods and gets up from the table to grab the open bottle of white from the fridge. Sitting back down, she fills the mug between us and, eyes gleaming, offers me the first sip. “So what are you going to do?�
��
I laugh, because it’s so very much my sister. Making the most of what’s in front of her. I have a swallow, ignoring the hint of chamomile. “You know how I’ve been getting all those calls for interviews since the business with Mike Rylan?”
17
Greg
I’M WEARING A hole through the floor of my apartment.
Something’s going on with Julia.
I thought everything was perfect the other night, but before she left, things changed. She turned in on herself, got distracted. I asked about it, but she waved me off like it was nothing and kissed me goodbye.
Her game was in town this week, so I thought we’d have more time together. I was looking forward to seeing her after all her pre-game meetings with the teams, coaches, and producers, but when she finally showed up, she seemed off. Twitchy. Less my Julia. And hell, I still don’t know what to make of what happened two nights ago, when I came home from picking up dinner for us and found her whispering into her phone in my bedroom. I said her name and she jumped so high, she nearly chucked the phone across the room.
That’s the sort of shit that with any other girl would freak me the fuck out. Reminding me just a little too much of Shelly and all the shit I should have recognized wasn’t right.
Except this is Julia. The girl I’ve known for thirteen years, and in all that time, who has never given me a reason not to trust her. Which means whatever is going on isn’t some underhanded scheme… but it’s something.
She wants me to meet her at her place this afternoon.
Her place.
After months of not being willing to risk someone seeing me going into her place, now she wants me to come over.
I may not have gone to a traditional university, but I can put two and two together. Julia isn’t worried about me being seen at her place because she knows it won’t happen again. She’s planning to sever ties. I’m going to walk in there, and she’s going to tell me she can’t do it anymore, that she won’t risk whatever damage her career might take if it comes out she’s dating an athlete. And then she’s going to tell me goodbye.
And then I don’t even know what I’m going to do, because I can’t fucking imagine my life without her in it.
Christ, I want to puke.
Julia
By the time Ronnie calls from the lobby to let me know Greg is coming up, I’m about to jump out of my skin. I’ve been a wreck all week, sick with worry about whether I was making the right choice. But after this morning—nothing has ever felt better than taking that leap, and now I can’t wait to see him. To throw my arms around his neck and kiss him and ask him if maybe he’d like to go pick up a protein shake at the place down by the river.
The elevator doors ping and Greg steps off, looking toward the wrong end of the floor before turning to see me waiting in the hall.
I wave, but there’s no missing the hard set of his eyes or the deep furrow between his brows, and my heart drops. Something’s wrong.
“Greg, what happened?”
He looks around, agitated and tense. “Come on, let’s get inside before anyone sees us.”
By tomorrow morning it won’t matter who sees us, but based on the look on his face, now isn’t the time to bring that up.
He stalks into my apartment and goes clear through the living room to the kitchen before turning and stalking back.
“No Cammy or Matty?”
It almost sounds like an accusation.
“They’re staying with Matty’s father’s family in Arizona this weekend.”
A nod. “So we’re alone?”
My stomach churns. “Yes?” What’s going on with him? “Greg, do you want to sit down and talk?”
He shoves his fingers through his hair and gives me a level look.
He lets out a growl. “No, damn it, I don’t want to sit down or be calm or civil or mature. I want you to fucking forget whatever the hell you’re thinking, because it’s wrong, okay? What we have is good, Jules. I don’t care if we have to hide it, I really don’t. I just don’t want to give this up.”
Give this up?
“Greg, what are you talking about?” Except then it clicks. “Wait, you think I’m breaking up with you?”
His jaw flexes once. Twice. “You’re not? Then what the hell has been going on all week? And why are we here?”
“Greg, no. I’m so sorry. I had a big decision to make about something, and I wasn’t handling it very well. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be with you. Just the opposite. We’re here because I thought you might want to take a walk down to the river.”
He’s stopped moving, that agitated energy seeming to collapse in on itself. “A walk?”
“Like a date,” I say, feeling inexplicably shy.
Greg’s so upset, I’m about to explain about this morning, but before I can he’s crossing the room, a look in his eyes so fierce the words evaporate off my tongue.
His hands are on my face, cupping my cheeks. “You’re not breaking up with me?”
He doesn’t give me a chance to answer before his mouth comes down, hard and demanding. I clutch at his hair, his shirt.
Breaking away, he searches my eyes. “Fuck, I need to hear you say it.”
I’ve never seen him so vulnerable, and I hate that I’m the one who caused it. I smooth my palms over his chest, over his shoulders and up to his face. Brushing one thumb across his heavy cheekbone, I whisper, “How could I break up with you? I love you.”
His breath gusts out and then he’s kissing me even harder, saying my name again and again. I’m crushed against his chest, my feet lifted off the ground as he carries me to my room. We stumble into bed, and he uses his big hand to scoop beneath my back and lift me farther up.
“Say it again.” He’s so close, his gruff plea brushes my neck, sending chills across my skin.
“I love you. I’m in love with you.” God, it’s so easy now, I wonder how I’ve managed to hold the words back this long. I want to tell him more, to tell him everything. “I think I’ve been falling for you from the day we met. I was just too scared to give it a chance.”
“Jules.” His forehead presses into that spot above my heart. “Christ, I thought I was losing you.”
My fingers slide into the thick waves of his hair, and tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “I’m so sorry. Feeling like this—it’s new to me, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”
Hurting this man was the last thing I wanted to do.
His head comes up, his brow furrowed as he brushes a thumb at the far corner of my eye.
“Tears?”
“You were so upset. You thought—”
“I thought I was going to have to talk you out of a bad decision. I thought I was going to have to remind you of all the ways we work.” His already deep voice goes even deeper. “I thought you were crazy if you believed I’d let you go.”
Skimming my hands down the sides of his body, I gather his long-sleeved shirt, inching it up as I ask, “You wouldn’t let me go?”
Shifting to his knees, he reaches overhead and pulls the shirt off in one swift motion. My mouth waters at the sight of all that hard-packed muscle and taut skin. The power in this man’s body is incredible, but in that moment it’s his power over my heart that overwhelms me the most.
“Never.”
That’s a long time. The kind of timeline I make a point not to associate with my relationships. But with Greg, I want to believe.
“Why not?” I ask.
He’s leaning over me, his hand cupping my hip to keep us in contact. His eyes meet mine, sure and steady. “Because I love you too.”
Greg
Maybe it’s because I thought I might not have it again, but I can’t get enough of her mouth. Her kiss. Her breathy sighs and soft gasps. We lose our clothes bit by bit until we’re naked together, skin to skin, our limbs a tangled perfection.
“Now you say it again,” she purrs, her hands sliding down my back to the top of my ass.
This time it’s real.
Our tongues slide around and against each other, driving us both wild.
No more waiting.
I break away, but it’s not to reach for the ring of latex in my wallet. It’s so I can see her beautiful face when my bare dick slides heavily down her spread seam to align with her opening.
I can tell when she registers what I’m asking.
She stills, then gives me a small nod.
“Are you sure?” I ask, holding myself back, even though I’m aching to take her. This is too important to get wrong.
Julia’s answer doesn’t come in words, but in the tender caress of her hands along the sides of my stubble-rough jaw and the slide of one knee up my side. Her answer is in her eyes. Christ, the love in them—it’s blinding.
This time, when I take her mouth, I take her body too.
It. Is. Amazing.
She’s warm and wet, parting around me with a gentle resistance that has my moan meeting hers at the center of our kiss.
She loves me.
I delve deep between her legs until I bottom out, my groin meeting the spread of her sex in a flush kiss that matches our mouths. Nothing has ever felt so right.
Another flutter of her muscles around me, and I can’t wait any longer.
Drawing back nearly to the head and then pushing full length inside her, I set a firm, steady rhythm between us.
She’s soaked, slick, and coating me completely. I want to go slow, make it last as long as humanly possible so I can savor every wet velvety stroke. But already I feel the needy clench and pull of her body, the leading spasm signaling she’s close. I could draw it out, make her wait. But I want to give her everything she needs, so I let go, hammering into that spot between us that pushes her over the edge.
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