Crazy, Stupid Love

by K. L. Grayson

  I follow him down the hall, yank the covers back on the bed, and crawl between the cool sheets.

  “So we are going to have sex,” he says, crawling across the mattress. His large body hovers over mine. Soft lips skim across my abdomen, along the swell of my left breast and land on my neck.

  “Actually,” I say, pulling Lincoln into the crook of my arm, “we’re going to cuddle.”

  “Cuddle?”

  “Don’t look so surprised; we’ve cuddled before.”

  “Yeah, after several rounds of sex when neither one of us can move.”

  “Tonight we’re going to try something different.”

  “Just cuddling. No sex.” He seems confused.

  I push my fingers into his soft, brown hair. “Come on. I promise it won’t hurt a bit. Who knows, you might even like it.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  His words are so soft I barely hear them. It takes a couple of minutes, but Lincoln finally relaxes in my arms, his head nuzzled against the tops of my breasts. Draping his arm across my stomach, he pulls me in as close as he can.

  “You normally don’t drink,” I say.

  I can’t remember the last time I saw Lincoln inebriated. Over the years I’ve seen him drink a beer here or there while out with Rhett or at one of our Sunday family dinners, but it’s never more than one or two tops, and I’ve never seen him even slightly drunk.

  There’s a rush of hot air against my skin when he sighs. “Nope.”

  “But you did tonight.”

  Another rush of air. “Yup.”

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  He’s silent for so long I have to release the breath I’ve been holding.

  Just about the time my eyes drift shut, his grip on me tightens and he says, “Chloe thinks you’re my girlfriend.”

  Girlfriend.

  Never thought I’d hear the word come from his mouth. I like it.

  Too much.

  My pulse kicks into high gear, and with his ear over my heart, I wonder if he can hear what his words do to me.

  “Are you?” he whispers.

  “Do you want me to be?”

  Please say yes. Please say yes.

  “I don’t know.”

  My heart plummets, and my fingers still in his hair. In this moment I realize Lincoln has the power to truly hurt me.

  He looks up, propping his chin on my chest. The glossy look is still there, reminding me he’s intoxicated.

  “I’ve never had a girlfriend.”

  I find that hard to believe.

  He blinks and continues. “I’m scared.”

  Oh God. He’s opening up to me, and I’m not sure what to think of it. He probably wouldn’t be saying any of this if he were sober.

  “Of what?”

  “You.”

  We stare at each other for several long seconds before he breaks the connection and finds his sweet spot against my chest. My fingers start circling through his hair, and I bring my lips to the top of his head, closing my eyes while I breathe in his woodsy scent. It’s a smell I’ve grown to love—a smell that brings me comfort because it reminds me of being home.

  I feel safe in Lincoln’s arms. Safe and treasured and cared for, despite our futile attempt to keep our relationship light and easy.

  I ache with the need to talk to him—to sort all of this out. But it’s a conversation best had when he’s undoubtedly sober.

  “Lincoln?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You scare me too.”

  I’m not even sure if he hears me, because a second later he’s snoring softly.

  6

  Lincoln

  Soft rays of sunlight filter through the widow, stabbing me in the eyes. I wince and roll over, hoping to catch a handful of soft, warm female but come up empty. The sheets on Adley’s side of the bed are cold.

  Moaning, I roll back to my side of the bed and try to sit up, but I flop down when a sharp pain cuts through my temple.

  This is what I get for drinking.

  I take a deep breath and try to convince myself to go search for Adley, but my body doesn’t move. After Chloe’s girlfriend declaration at the gym yesterday, I lost my mind. My head was a jumbled mess, and I tried my hardest to pound it out on the mats. Hunter didn’t see me coming. By the time we were both flat on our backs in the middle of the ring and panting for air, I was more confused than when I’d started.

  So, I did what any good ol’ boy would do; I stayed at The Barn after hours and knocked a few back with my friends.

  It wasn’t until I opened the front door and saw Adley asleep on my couch that things shifted into focus. Mentally, not visually. Visually I was seeing two of everything, but I was with-it enough to realize I liked the look of her in my house, asleep on my couch. I liked it even more that she came unannounced.

  I slide my legs over the side of the bed and sit up, trying my best to ignore the throbbing in my temples.

  I stride through the house with purpose, but her purse is gone, along with her shoes that had been by the front door, and a look out the window confirms that her car is gone as well.

  She left me.

  Adley has a thing or two to learn about girlfriend etiquette. I’m sure as hell not the one to teach her, because I know nothing about relationships, but even I know you don’t share a moment like we did last night and walk away the next morning.

  For years, I’ve been telling myself I’ll end up like my parents. I’ve used that excuse to keep distance between Adley and me, but that isn’t fair to her. She wants more, deserves more. It’s clear I can’t stay away from her, so if this is what she wants—if this is the next step between us—I owe it to both of us to try.

  I want to try.

  Turning around, I go in search of my phone, but stop short when I see a note, a bottle of water, and three ibuprofen sitting on the kitchen counter.

  In one swig, I down the medicine and grab the note.

  I plugged your phone in by the microwave. It was dead. Take this medicine and drink the entire bottle of water. It should make you feel better.

  That’s it. No Sorry I had to run, or I’ll call you later. She didn’t even sign the damn note.

  I unplug my phone from the charger and lean a hip against the kitchen counter as I pull up Adley’s number.

  “Hey there,” she answers, a little too chipper for my sour mood.

  “Where the hell are you?”

  There’s a pause and then Adley says, “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Yes, I heard you, but I don’t like the tone of your voice.”

  “Well, I don’t like it when my girlfriend runs out on me.”

  “Oh, is that what I am now, your girlfriend? Last night you weren’t sure you wanted one, and now you’ve labeled me as such?”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath. “Where are you?” I ask again.

  “Home.”

  “Don’t leave.”

  “Linc—”

  Ending the call, I shove my phone in my pocket and grab my keys and wallet. If we’re going to have this conversation, it’s going to be face to face. Not over the damn phone.

  Thanks to some back roads and a lead foot, I pull up to Adley’s house in less than an hour.

  Adley never gave me a key to her place, so I have no choice but to knock on the front door and wait for her to answer.

  “Open up.” I bang a second time, and when Adley pulls the door open, she looks pissed.

  I’m good with that, though, because a pissed Adley is a sexy Adley. She probably wants to slam the door in my face after the way I talked to her on the phone, but I don’t give her the chance.

  Her eyes widen when I shove my way inside.

  Her house is small. Two bedrooms and a bathroom with an open floor plan for the kitchen and living room. Her parents own it. It used to be a rental property, but when her brothers got into college, they took their turns living here, and now it�
�s been passed down to Adley.

  Her TV is on, but the volume is turned down, and the coffee table is littered with books and papers.

  When I turn to face Adley, I’m hit by the magnetic pull I always feel when we’re in the same room. Except this time it’s stronger, more pronounced. Or maybe I’ve just finally let my guard down enough to notice its potency. She’s never been able to lie to me; her body gives her away every single time. It’s the way she reacts to me, the rise and fall of her chest, the hungry look in her eyes and the rapid pulse at the base of her neck.

  It’s primitive and real.

  I’m used to women drooling over me. It’s part of the bull-rider life. Women love cowboys. They want tight jeans and a scruffy face—someone rugged, someone they think they can tame and fix. They want the fame and the buckle—both of which I no longer have.

  But Adley is different. She doesn’t want to be a buckle bunny on the arm of a world champion bull rider. She doesn’t care about sponsors, or my income, or my lack of position with the PBR. For some reason, she just wants me.

  At least I think she does.

  If only she wouldn’t have taken off this morning before we had a chance to talk about it.

  “I don’t like the way you talked to me on the phone.” Adley’s hands are on her hips.

  Her grey sweatshirt is two sizes too big, leaving her left shoulder exposed, and I’m hoping we can get past this quickly so I can get my mouth on all of that creamy skin. She’s also sporting an impressive scowl.

  She’s pissed.

  Good, I am too.

  “Why did you run from me?”

  “I didn’t run. I had a study group.”

  Hands fisted at my sides, I look around. “Really? Then what are you doing home?”

  “For your information, they canceled at the last minute. I haven’t been home in a while, so I thought I should check on the place. Once I was here, I didn’t exactly feel like driving an hour back to your house.”

  “You could’ve called or sent me a text—”

  “I left you a note.”

  “That wasn’t a note. You could’ve woken me up and said goodbye. After our conversation last night, I expected more than waking up to cold sheets and a note you didn’t bother to sign.”

  Guilt flickers behind her big eyes, along with a flash of insecurity. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember what we talked about.”

  “Is that it? Or maybe what we talked about scared you. Maybe you ran because all of the sudden shit got real, and you didn’t know how to handle it.” My voice rises with each word, and Adley shakes her head.

  “That’s not true.”

  “Really?”

  “You were drunk, Lincoln. People say things when they’re drunk.”

  I back her up against the wall. Her body relaxes against mine as I press a hand to the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. “I may have had one too many drinks in me, but I knew what I was saying.”

  Her warm breath fans against my face, and I lean in to her, needing to feel her body against mine.

  “I was worried that you’d wake up oblivious to what we’d talked about, or worse yet, you’d decide you hadn’t meant it.”

  “Last night was probably the most real moment we’ve ever shared, and I meant every word I said.”

  “You’re scared?”

  Taking a breath, I nod.

  “Of what? Besides me—that answer isn’t good enough.”

  “That I’ll hurt you, and I don’t want to hurt you, Adley.”

  She rests her hand on my cheek. “You would never hurt me.”

  This girl is one in a million—honest, caring, funny, sexy, smart, and willing to throw her entire soul into something she believes in. And foolishly, she believes in me.

  “You’re right. Physically I wouldn’t hurt you, but we want different things out of life. You want to fall in love and get married and have kids.”

  “How do you know?” she interrupts. “We’ve never even talked about it.”

  “Well, talk. Is that what you want?”

  She blinks rapidly and shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you know?”

  Her eyes land on something over my shoulder. With a finger under her chin, I turn her face back to mine.

  “What do you know?” I ask again. “What do you want?”

  “I know that you make me smile, and I hope I make you smile.”

  “All the damn time,” I agree.

  “I think about you every second you’re not around, even when I’m supposed to be studying. I enjoy coming home to you at the end of a long day. And I really like when we order takeout and watch those silly racing movies.”

  “I like those things too, but you deserve more than cheap takeout and Netflix. You deserve fancy dinners and nights out on the town. You deserve beautiful gifts and trips around the world—”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t need those things. When are you going to see what I see? When are you going to realize how amazing you are and how much you have to offer?”

  “Adley—”

  “You train and work harder than anyone I’ve ever known. You not only take care of your father, but you care for your sister—you put her through college, Lincoln.”

  If only it were that simple.

  “I work hard because I need all the damn money I can get, because my alcoholic father can’t hold a job long enough to make a paycheck, and my drug-addicted, abusive mother left him with a mountain of bills. I work because I don’t want Chloe to end up like the rest of us. I want her to be different. I want her to succeed and get out of this town.”

  The words are out of me in a rush, and Adley wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my chest. I haven’t told her much about my family, but it feels good to get it off my chest.

  “Don’t you get it, Adley? My life isn’t as perfect as yours. I’m broken, and I will eventually hurt you whether I mean to or not.” It’s in my blood.

  Looking up, Adley rests her chin on my chest. “You’re not broken, just bent. We’re all bent, Lincoln. Some of us worse than others, but being bent isn’t a bad thing.”

  “I don’t need to be fixed, Adley.”

  She kisses the center of my chest and then puts her lips over my heart. “Good, because I like you the way you are.”

  “Is this really what you want? A relationship with someone like me?”

  “You mean someone who’s kind and supportive and a great listener? Someone who makes me laugh and treats others with respect? Yes. The answer is yes. But it’s not all about me. What do you want?”

  “You, Adley. I just want you.”

  Her smile is bright enough to light up the darkest night. “Does this mean I can hold your hand in public and kiss you in front of our friends?”

  “Yes. But it also means we’ve got to find a way to tell your brother without him wanting to murder me.”

  She laughs. “We don’t have to tell him right away. We can take things slow. One day at a time.”

  “So, we’re doing this?”

  “Oh, we’re doing this, Mr. Bennett.”

  I wrap my arms around her, hoisting her up. Adley’s legs wrap around my waist, her lips nibbling a path from my neck to my ear.

  “No more running in the mornings, got it? Ouch!” I flinch when she bites the sensitive spot at the curve of my shoulder.

  “I had a study group.”

  “Whatever you say, babe. And I’m going to need a key to your place. I have a feeling we’re going to be doing a lot of driving back and forth now that you’re no longer in Houston three to four nights a week.”

  “Okay.”

  I kick her bedroom door open and then nudge it shut with my foot and flick the lock. Adley squeals when I toss her on the bed and peel my shirt off.

  “Do you have plans tomorrow?”

  She licks her lips, her hungry eyes roaming over my chest.

  “Adley.”

  “Huh?” S
he blinks up at me.

  “Do you have plans tomorrow?”

  “I’d really like to spend the day with you.”

  Damn, this girl is amazing. “Good, because there’s somewhere I want to take you—someone I want you to meet.”

  “What about today?”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” I say, crawling on to the bed. “I think you know what we’re doing today.”

  7

  Lincoln

  A curly haired, ten-year-old boy named Lucas throws his arms in the air and does a victorious lap around the ping-pong table. This kid just whooped my butt three games in a row.

  “Who else wants to take on the champion?” His triumphant smile alone is enough to make the trip to Kid Connection worth it, and I toss my paddle on the table for the next victim.

  Adley wraps her arms around me from behind. “This place is wonderful. Thank you for bringing me.”

  I told Adley where we were going this morning when we woke up together at her house, and she was more than excited. I told her about all the kids I’ve connected with, including Lucas, and the various activities available, and she hounded me about when we were going until we walked out the door.

  “You’re welcome.” I kiss her head, and she grins.

  “Now, let me show you how it’s done.” She reaches around me and grabs the paddle.

  “Careful. He’s ruthless.”

  “He’s right. And I don’t mind beatin’ a girl.” Tossing the ball in the air, Lucas bounces it off his paddle and catches it, but Adley isn’t deterred.

  Legs apart, body angled to the right, she takes her position at the opposite end of the table. “Good, because I don’t mind beatin’ a kid.”

  Right arm raised, Lucas drops the ball and whacks it across the table. The ball is quick, but Adley is quicker, and when she returns the ball, Lucas whiffs.

  “Oh yeah, who’s the boss now?” she gloats.

  Lucas rolls his eyes, but he has a huge smile on his face, and I have a feeling this game is going to get intense.

  “You two have fun. I’m going to grab a water.”