Meant for More

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Meant for More Page 11

by Liza James


  So, I lay here in bed, running through every conversation today, every moment. Again and again it all replays in my mind.

  Until I get to the studio. As I'm sitting on the bench and working with the clay. When Carter comes in, everything changes. All of it, at once, in one chaotic destructive storm.

  His hands on my skin. His lips on my flesh. The way my body immediately reacted to his.

  My heart pounds again, and I absently glance toward my phone wishing I could talk to him.

  See him.

  Feel him.

  No, no no. I mentally slap myself and roll over, forcing my head into other places, other thoughts that distract me in countless new ways.

  Soon enough, sleep finally claims me, and I can only pray my dreams are filled with anything other than today.

  She's avoiding me. Straight up, hard core. Avoiding me.

  I've never gone this long without talking to Bloom, let alone fucking seeing her. So, this entire week has been an entirely new monster to deal with.

  Liv has been around though, every single day. She comes over and visits, spending time with me while Benj avoids the two of us as well. I don't know what his fucking deal is. I didn't tell him about Bloom and I, and I sure as hell didn't tell Liv. There's no reason he should be upset with me. At least not yet.

  And then there's the whole telling Liv situation. What the fuck do I say and how do I confront this with her?

  I'd like to know Bloom's thoughts on it, but every single text message I send goes unanswered, every call goes straight to voice mail. I try to find her at classes, or on campus. Hell, I've even gone to the Theta Si house but she's never home.

  So, I haven't broached the subject yet. Instead, I've been forcing myself to dig deeper, to try and understand how I feel about both Bloom and Liv.

  I've never been in a position like this before. It's always been meet, fuck, leave. I rarely have an actual girlfriend, I hardly ever have genuine feelings for them. I know it's shitty, but my life has been filled with Bloom and Liv, so I've never wanted an actual girlfriend.

  And maybe that says something all on its own. I've never wanted one because I already had one. Well, two. I'm starting to realize that, and now I need to figure out how I feel about Liv.

  I like her, I do. More than a friend, definitely. She’s bright and beautiful and supportive. She's hardworking and devoted and funny as hell when she wants to be. I definitely enjoy making out with her, and I love how she knows what she's doing.

  But then there's Bloom. This little flower who's stayed hidden in the background for too long. Not because she isn't beautiful, or loud, or present. But because she's unobtrusive and open. She accepts everyone and every perspective. She isn't judgmental or clouded with negativity. She's quiet in how she fits with everyone around her.

  She doesn't blend in though, no. She stands out. In her own ways. In her wild dark hair and edgy style. In her art and emotional attachment. She feels things differently than everyone else does and fuck, being with her that night? It was a level I had never experienced before.

  I've been with plenty of girls.

  But none of them felt like she did.

  Fire and ice colliding in something forbidden. Melting together to create a new piece. Her own creativity and passion flowing through our touch while my dominance and need fueled the foundation.

  I can't get enough of her now. I want those sounds again, those begs, those little moans and whimpers while I touched her.

  I want her fingers digging into my skin, her lips shaking against mine while I take her. I want her to come, to know it's me who got her there, who can feed her hunger in ways she's never known before.

  "Jesus, fuck! Carter! Get your shit together!" Coach shouts from the sidelines and suddenly my head is thrown back into the present moment.

  The game.

  It's Friday night and I'm royally screwing our season opener. Titans against the Raiders. Our rival team. This game doesn't count toward our season, but it's hyped up as a big fucking deal given the opponent and being the first game of the year.

  Bright stadium lights blast over the field, illuminating every player, every fan, every potential outcome to this evening. I rip off my helmet for a moment while Coach calls a time out. We all huddle, and I get my shit together enough to call out the next play and get us back on the same page.

  Suddenly, Benj runs up behind me and grips my shoulders, shouting in my ear over the sound of the game around us. "Don't fuck this up, Carter. Whatever's going on in your head, bury it down until after the fuckin' game."

  "I know, I know," I reply, slamming my palm over my chest a few times and shaking my head while I bounce back and forth on opposite feet. I slide my helmet back on my head and get into position. The play is called, the ball hiked, and it's in my hands so naturally I don't even think twice about it.

  Step back, step back, step back, to the right, fake, throw left.

  Fuck.

  And I'm on the ground. Tackled before the ball left my fingertips. Motherfucker, you've got to be kidding me right now.

  Donnally, the guy on the opposing team took me out, and looks over my head with a smile as he stands. "Off night, QB?" He laughs as he runs away and I'm left on the ground with bright lights blazing over me.

  Lucas is suddenly there, gripping my hand and tugging me up from the ground. His hand smashes against my helmet, shaking me alert while I force my head to stay in the fucking game.

  "Dude, I don't want to say you're struggling, but you're fucking this up."

  "Yeah, yeah. I fucking know." I bite out, irritated not with my teammates but with how much I'm letting Bloom and Liv fuck with my head.

  "Come on, Carter! You've got this!" I hear her, Liv, shouting from the stands behind me. I glance back, spotting her almost immediately at the edge of the field.

  But that's when I realize someone is standing next to her. A bit shorter, curvier, with long dark hair resting in untamed waves at her shoulders.

  Bloom.

  She isn't watching, instead she's looking to her right over her shoulder, and I follow her gaze to see Benj standing on the sidelines. She's watching him, and avoiding me, exactly as it's been all week.

  Liv though, she's just as cheery and bright as always. Jumping up and down as she waves in my direction. I nod, all I offer in the middle of games to anyone. No waves, no shouts, nothing to rip me out of my head too much.

  But hell, tonight? I'm hardly here as it fucking is.

  I don't know what is more irritating, the fact of Bloom being here in the first place, or the fact that she has her eyes glued to Benj instead of me.

  I shouldn't fucking care. I know I shouldn't, but this girl has me twisted up in ways I've never been affected by before.

  However, the fact that she's even here, that I can feel her presence at all, is something. The feeling settles in my chest like a weight, but one that grounds me instead of drowning me. So, I use it. I pull from it, manipulate it into a tether in order to focus me rather than a distraction to further ruin this game.

  "All right! Let's go!" I shout out, forcing myself with every shred of strength I can manage to focus on this game completely. I don't need to worry about where Bloom is when I know she's right here. I'll corner her after the game and we'll finally fucking talk about this shit.

  Hike. Pass. Run. Pass.

  Touch down.

  Fuck. Finally. The single victory sends a new burst of energy in my veins, and the sound of the crowd is exhilarating. Everything starts pumping again, everything starts flowing. And while I'm riding this high, the connection to Bloom is keeping me sharp and focused.

  Another pass, another few points. Gained yards. Another touchdown.

  Suddenly, time has passed and we're finally catching up. Things are turning around in our favor, and I can't help but feel fucking good about what's happening.

  All I have to do is stay focused, and I glance back every few minutes to find Bloom and Liv still standing diligent
ly in their space on the side of the field. Cheering, shouting, smiling. Everything they usually are at these games and it's everything I needed to pull myself together.

  The play is called, the ball hiked, and it lands in my hand as I start shuffling backwards. God, this is what I love. The rush of the wind as I move, the way everyone is shouting or running or cheering—and yet all I can hear is the silence.

  I move forward, rushing and shifting out of the way of opposing players. I lean back, and my eyes immediately connect with Benj’s.

  Perfect.

  I pause and arch back, bringing my arm and ball behind my head before launching it forward and into the night. My eyes track it in every slowly passing second.

  Come on, come on!

  Benj watches it, anticipating its approach as he quickly races backwards with his arms stretched high. My heart is thundering in my chest, my feet absently moving forward while I watch what’s about to unfold.

  Suddenly, his fingers wrap tightly around the ball as he falls backwards and brings it to his chest. He doubles back, rolling over just as his frame barely passes the fucking line.

  Touchdown.

  Hell yes.

  Win.

  Thank fuck. The team races into the locker rooms, our coach following closely behind while we each head to our lockers. The media is already waiting outside, and we have the press conference to attend directly after this.

  I just want to get out there, but I know the routine and it's easy for me to get through these parts. I'll have some explaining to do though, for my performance at the beginning of the game.

  A few players walk past and slap me on the back, making jokes here and there about how I choked up out there at first. It's all fun and games now that we've won, but I know how detrimental my performance can be to the draft if I don't bring my best game every single time.

  Coach addresses a few things about our plays tonight, reminds us of several events and fundraisers coming up, practice tomorrow morning. Myself and Lucas are on press tonight, so we quickly change and head out with Coach while he mentions the topics probable tonight.

  "You're going to have to address your performance at the beginning of the game. And don't ever bring that shit on the field again, do you understand me?" he demands without looking my way, his eyes are glued to the clipboard in front of him.

  "Yes, I know Coach. I'll get it together," I reply, irritated with myself and what I let get to my head tonight.

  "Good. We're moving on then. You boys know how to handle these things, you've had the media training. Short, quick, to the point. Let's get it over with and you guys can head out."

  He's here.

  I knew he would be, of course. I just didn't think it would feel like this when I finally saw him again. I've worked my ass off this week to avoid him. No contact, no seeing him, not even talking about him with Liv if I can manage it.

  Instead, I've been talking to Benj more. He's picked me up on a couple of dates and we've gone out. I've been investing my time and thought into our relationship, and I assumed I was in a good enough place to come support both of the guys at their game tonight.

  I'm clearly not.

  Because while I'm watching Benj, my heart is searching for Carter. While I scan the field for number twenty-seven, I'm absently looking for number thirty-four.

  My heart picks up speed when Benj finally emerges from the locker room and heads toward Liv and me. But it slams and beats against my chest when Carter is lastly free of the press.

  Benj stands at my side, chatting with me about the game when Liv races up to Carter and throws her arms around his shoulders. He's caught off guard, because his eyes widen and then glance toward me as he picks her up.

  I look away.

  But I can't help it, I'm clearly a masochist for pain because I look at them again when I vaguely hear Liv's high, excited voice congratulating him on the win. I slide my hands into the pockets of my black, distressed skinny jeans in order to distract myself.

  In an instant, she kisses him. Right here, right now. On the field after the game while he holds her. Benj and I are silent, and I instinctually wonder if he wishes I would have kissed him after the game as well.

  I can't help it, my eyes are glued to them now. Even as badly as I want to tear them away—I can't stop watching. He pulls back for a second, in an awkward way when he sets her down and glances over to Benj and I.

  But I hear her, and she assures him that she told me about the two of them already.

  She did. Last week. Right after him and I—

  "Hey, Baby Bloom," he finally says to me as they step toward us.

  "She did tell me," I reply immediately, nodding toward Liv with a smile on my face. "I'm happy for you both."

  I force the words out. The strange and uncomfortable sounds scrape against my throat and beg to be held back. But I can't do it. I have to give them this, they'll be good together.

  So, I slip my hand into Benj's as I say it and take a step closer to him. I'm hoping this solidifies mine and Carter's friendship. Completely platonic. Whatever happened at the studio was a reckless decision and easily forgettable mistake.

  Carter's eyes drop to our clasped hands. I'd say he was completely ambivalent to the action, but I know him better than anyone, and I can see the mild tick in the back of his jaw as Liv steps into his side.

  "Thanks," he says dryly, and drops his arm around Liv's shoulders as he tugs her tightly against him.

  Finally, Benj interrupts the awkward interaction by stepping him and I back a couple of feet. "Bloom and I are headed out tonight, so we'll catch up with you guys later."

  "Where are you guys going?" Carter asks, clearly forcing a casual tone to his words. But I know he's on edge now.

  "Just out. I'll be back to the house tonight though. We've got practice bright and early," he replies and moves to turn us around and walk away. But I pull back for a second, because I know we're going out to a field tonight in order to sit and talk and watch the stars.

  It sounds cheesy, but I've always loved being out in the darkness. There's something about it that calls to the artistic nature in me.

  "I'm going to run to the restroom real quick.” I step away on my own and avoid the others, walking to the bathroom in the complete opposite direction of them. Benj nods and joins the others again, and I'm thankful to be left alone while I try to clear my head of one guy before spending the evening with another.

  I step into the bathroom and thankfully find it empty. Walking toward the sink and mirror, I stop and look at myself in the reflection. My cheeks and nose are pink with the chilly air, my hair its usual chaotic mess, spilling around my shoulders. I love it though, and everything seems to be exactly how I want it.

  Except my eyes.

  Those hold the truth.

  Sadness. Contemplation. Jealousy. Vacancy. Deliberate avoidance.

  And I watch myself in emptiness while I think about leaving this stadium with the wrong person. Why can't I shake these feelings?

  I quickly turn on the water and let it run cold, leaning down and dipping my hands under the stream while it spills over my skin. I lap it up and over my face, enjoying the sting as it electrifies my blood and refreshes my headspace.

  Get it together, Bloom.

  I absently hear the door open and close, splashing my face a couple more times while heavy steps sound behind me. I should head back anyway, Benj is waiting.

  I finally look up and reach to my right for paper towels, but it's in that split second my hands are gripped and quickly yanked back. My eyes snap to the mirror and I see him, towering behind me with heavy breaths and blazing eyes.

  "You think you could run from me, Baby Bloom?" Carter's voice is on fire. His touch burns my skin and my blood in reminders of what flows so easily between us. He pulls my hands up and over my head, pinning them against his chest as he pushes me against the counter.

  "You don't think this is going to be incredibly obvious to both Liv and Benj?" I bi
te out, pulling on my hands even though I know he won't let me go.

  He dips his head down, his lips brushing across my neck as he speaks. "I don't care how obvious it is." Shivers break out over my shoulders and I can't stop the immediate goosebumps exploding over my skin. My heart beats and hammers so loudly I swear he can probably hear it, and my fingers instinctively want to search for his own heat.

  "This is so wrong, Carter. How can you not see that? We're both seeing other people." I whimper as his teeth move over my jaw. God, I want this. So, fucking badly. His energy, his touch, his connection.

  His filthy words and tempting demands. All of it. I want it with him.

  Suddenly, Carter twists me around and lifts me onto the counter. His hands land on my thighs as he pushes them apart and fits himself in-between them. He leans forward, his wide shoulders and imposing frame hovering over me exactly how I'd like him to be.

  But he shouldn't be.

  "First of all, Liv shouldn't have told you. I haven't asked her to be my girlfriend and I know for a fact Benj hasn't asked you." He leans down, grazing his nose along my jaw while his lips move over my skin again. "We aren't seeing anyone."

  "I don't think people ask those things anymore, Carter. It's just implied now. You're exclusive with the person and I don't see Liv or Benj seeing anyone else." My hands lift and my fingers slide over his shoulders, intending to push him back. But I don't, I grip onto him instead, feeling his heated skin under my touch as his mouth moves closer to mine.

  I want to kiss him again.

  "Second of all," he ignores my rebuttal. Shocker. "It's not that I don't see how wrong this could be. I just don't care, Bloom. Not when this feels the way it does, not when it's become so incredibly clear to me what I fucking want."

  "Yeah?" I whisper, feeling my walls crumble in the space between us. "Tell me what it is you want then." I pull him closer, brushing my lips against his when he quickly picks me up off the counter and turns us around, pressing me against the wall to my right. He reaches for my wrists with one hand and pins them up over my head, forcing my back to arch and my chest to push farther against him.

 

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