by Sierra Hill
It surprises me that he doubted I would. I just nod my head and keep walking. I notice the small stucco houses that we pass along the street, all likely inhabited by college students or faculty, or others affiliated with the school since we’re so close to campus. I also happen to notice the warmth of his hand and the gentle pressure as his palm cups mine. I glance down and can’t even see my own hand, which is swallowed up by his big mitts. No doubt he can handle a basketball.
“Did you really think I’d stand you up like that?”
I can see the blush color his cheeks. “Well, you weren’t that enthused at the prospect of coming. So, I had some doubts.”
I don’t know what to say to that, because he’s right. So I try to change the subject, to show him that I do want to be here and I am interested in him.
“So tell me about your friends. Who am I going to meet?” I ask, trying to lose some of the edge I’ve been feeling all day. This whole thing makes me nervous. Yet I’m also comforted by the way he holds my hand in his. Protective. Kind.
It just feels good. Right. Perfect.
We’ve known each other for over a week now, but I don’t know anything about his friends. This is a good way to remedy that.
We walk a few more steps until he suddenly stops, tilts his head and narrows his eyes at me.
“What?” I ask, suddenly concerned I’ve said something wrong.
“Maybe I’m rethinking the idea of introducing you to my friends,” he says, his hand clasping mine tighter.
Oh great. Here we go. I did all this primping tonight and he just now realizes that it’s all a huge mistake. He’s embarrassed to be seen with me because we aren’t in the same social classes or circles, or whatever.
Well fine. That’s his problem and all on him. I’m not about to beg for forgiveness or grovel at his feet to apologize for who I am. I’m on academic scholarship. I work two jobs. I support my mom and my sister. I’m not the upper one percent. But I’m solid. And if he can’t see that about me, then screw him.
“Why? Aren’t I good enough for your boys?” My tone says I’m ready for a fight and I yank my hand out from his. His body does this jerky thing. I’ve definitely made him uncomfortable. Well too bad.
“What are you talking about? Not good enough? Jesus, Ainsley.” Cade’s hand flies to his head and he grips on it, looking like he’s ready to tear it out. “My boys, as you call them, are going to realize you’re too good for me the minute they meet you. And by the end of the night, at least two, probably more, will be tripping over each other to get your number. Mark my words.”
“Oh.” I lamely throw out there, completely stymied by his response. Wasn’t expecting that.
To be honest, I’ve never been interested in the attention of boys. Guys. Men. Whatever. I just always had more pressing matters to deal with than chase after the affections of the male persuasion. I don’t go out of my way for it. I wasn’t a mall rat in high school like some of the other girls in my class. I didn’t wear a lot of make-up or overly suggestive clothing. I didn’t chase. Or call. Or put out to gain the attention of the boys. It just wasn’t who I was or wanted to be.
To hear Cade tell me that he’s worried other’s will want me makes me honestly wonder what he sees in me. I gaze down at my ensemble that I wore tonight, trying to remember exactly what I picked out to wear. A pair of jean shorts, a white-peasant top with bright blue embroidered designs across the chest and edged collar. And a pair of beaded sandals.
I didn’t even really do anything to my hair after my shower. I just pulled it back into a ponytail, leaving a few wisps of hair and my bangs falling across my cheeks and forehead. I did put a little extra effort into my make-up. Not overly ambitious, but some mascara, some pink shadow, a little swab of blush, and some shiny neutral colored lip gloss that Anika bought for me last Christmas from Sephora. It was practically unused.
My sister at fifteen knows more about the art of make-up than I do. She and my mother won’t leave the house if they don’t at least have falsies or mascara on their eyes. I’m happy if I’ve brushed out my hair before leaving sometimes.
Trying to identify what it is that Cade likes about me is just perplexing. Yes, I’m by some standards pretty. Maybe even beautiful sometimes. But why he, or his friends, would think I’m a catch is just difficult to fathom.
Cade gives a light tug on my hand and heads us toward a small, two-story apartment complex of maybe twelve units.
Then he reminds me that I’m going to meet his friends, who will apparently have it out for me. “Okay, you’ll definitely meet my roommates, Lance and Carver. They are also on the basketball team with me. We’ve all been rooming together since freshman year, but started out in the dorms. And watch out for Carver.”
When my eyebrows go up inquisitively, he just shrugs.
“He’s team captain, point guard, and official ladies’ man. The guy can get into a girl’s panties faster than he can set a pick and roll.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
He cracks an adorable grin. “Eh. It’s just a basketball play. The point is, don’t fall for Carver. I’d be crushed. He always gets the girls.”
I roll my eyes and laugh, because who is he kidding? I know without a doubt, Kincaid “Griff” Griffin, has gotten his fair share of the lasses. He then pulls my hand across his broad chest to his heart and gives me his best puppy dog eyes. God, what a flirt.
“Anyway, I think Van will be there, too, unless he went to visit his girlfriend this weekend. And let’s see…who else? Drew, Casey, Darryl, Caleb, Matty, Bailey, Liv…”
“Okay, okay!” I exclaim, feeling a tad overwhelmed with all the names he’s whipping through. “If I wasn’t freaking out before, I am now.”
His eyes widen incredulously. “You’re nervous? Why? You seem the picture of confidence.”
“Right.” I snort indignantly.
“Nah, I’m serious. You just come across so sure of yourself most of the time.”
I’ve always been confident in most areas of my life. I’ve had to be. I had to have balls to grow up the way I did. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be just as insecure as the next person. I’m just better at hiding it more than others.
“Well, thanks. I think…I guess it’s just having to walk into a room not knowing anyone and knowing they are immediately going to judge me because I’m there with you.”
I have to crane my neck to look him in his eyes as Cade leans in, his nose just inches from my face, dips his head closer to mine to gaze at me. It’s a moment of clarity. Time stops. The Earth’s plates shift and move beneath us. Electricity shimmers between us, like fireflies in the dead of night. Buzzing. Crackling.
I think he’s about to kiss me. And I don’t know how I feel about that. Okay, I do know how I feel. I want him to kiss me really, really badly. The desire licks through my veins, sending small explosions of heat and blood whipping through my body. My heart beats faster. Louder. My breath tightens into short pulses of air. In. Out. In and out.
And then the moment is over and he pulls away, giving me back my personal space and room to breathe. And I realize I want him back in that space.
Cade shakes his head and places a hand on the doorknob of his apartment. I can feel the bass from the music vibrate against the bottom of my feet. Or maybe that’s still the tingling sensation from Cade being so close to me.
“Believe me. The only person they are going to be judging tonight is me. They’re going to be wondering why such a smoking hot, smart girl like you is hanging around with a guy like me.”
And with that, he opens the front door to a chorus of celebratory shouts, music, and laughter.
I tamp down my trepidation and slap on a big smile. I take a steadying breath and tell myself I’m sure I can handle whatever the night has in store for me.
10
Cade
I realize something the minute we walk into the party.
I don’t want to be here with Ainsley. I have
this overwhelming desire to walk right back out that door, Ainsley’s hand in mine, and get as far away from everyone as possible. To just be alone with her, without the interruption of all my friends who are trying to shove drinks down my throat.
I’m pretty certain that I would be laid out naked and drunk in the bathtub tonight if it weren’t for Ainsley. I don’t mean to imply that she’s a wet blanket, but I keep getting a glimpse of something flash in her eyes every time someone hands me another drink. Fear, maybe. Concern. I don’t know, but I’ve been trying to pace myself, drinking lots of water in between games of nerf hoops and shots of tequila.
The last three hours have gone by quickly. I’m having a great birthday party and enjoying introducing Ainsley to my friends. Sure enough, within five minutes of arrival, Carver was hanging all over her, giving her cheesy compliments, talking up how great his three-point shot is – to which Ainsley literally made a gagging noise at. I doubled over belly laughing when she did that, because Carver was wearing the most ridiculous look of shock I’ve ever seen him wear.
And then Ainsley tried to placate him by patting him on the arm to assuage his ego. He took advantage of her patronizing gesture and wrapped an arm around her waist, yanking her to him.
I quickly went all caveman on his ass, giving the motherfucker a friendly drunken shove, which Carver protested loudly and pushed me right back. And then we were all laughing over our stupidity.
It was impressive to watch how easily Ainsley maneuvered through the crowd of people, chatting effortlessly to the people she didn’t know, finding commonalities with each and every one. If I were going into politics, she would be a woman I’d want right by my side to ride the political circuits. Ainsley has brains, beauty and an unbelievable charm.
I’m sitting on my desk chair inside my bedroom now waiting for her to finish up in the bathroom. She was a little apprehensive when I said she could use the master bath in my bedroom, but saw the line outside the main bath in the hallway and decided her biological needs dictated the use of my private commode. Plus, I told her it was cleaned that morning, unlike the one Carver and Lance share. Who knows the last time they cleaned their toilet?
Had I mentioned going into my bedroom to use my master bathroom to any other girl, they would’ve jumped at the chance to find their way into my private quarters. And they’d probably use it as a ploy to get me back here and in my bed with them. Ainsley isn’t like that.
Minus the hand holding and light brushes of our arms as we stood side-by-side tonight, I have yet to kiss or touch her otherwise. Don’t get me wrong. I want to. Very badly. And the tequila I’ve been drinking has only increased that horniness factor. With or without the alcohol, though, I’ve wanted to kiss her since the moment she stepped off that bus.
Fuck, I knew I was a goner when I saw the look she gave me. Like I was some white knight or something. Her smile nearly brought me to my knees. There have been plenty of opportunities throughout the evening where I could have leaned down and touched her lips with mine. All night long she’s been so close I can smell the sweet vanilla flavor of her lip gloss and it makes my dick ache to kiss it off her mouth. And I think she would have let me.
But I’ve resisted. I’m not willing to push this if it meant risking her stepping back. And that’s a really weird sentiment coming from me. I usually don’t care. I wouldn’t tread this lightly or give a fuck if the girl I’m with wanted to or not. I’d just take, and if she gave it up, good for me. And if she didn’t, then I’d find someone else. Hoops hunnies, or ball bunnies, come a dime a dozen for a college ball player. I’m not being cocky. That’s just how it goes.
My eyes droop a little in the soft glow of the desk lamp as I see the bathroom light go out from underneath the bathroom door. And then the door opens and I watch Ainsley step inside my bedroom, stopping when her gaze lands on me. Waiting for her.
I can see what she is thinking as it flashes through her eyes. “I didn’t want you to be in here alone, so I waited. I promised you I’d be by your side all night long.”
That was true. I can see that she’s quietly assessing my intentions. Smart girl. And if she could read my mind right now, she’d be gasping at the visuals.
“So you did,” she whispers, her eyes taking in the walls of my bedroom, decorated in basketball awards, a shelf full of trophies, pendants and a signed team poster from last season. She walks over to the picture, turning her head to look at me over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry…but I’ve never asked you what position you play? You any good?” I can hear the humor in her voice, because even if she’s never seen me play, she has to know I’m good. My gramps couldn’t stop bragging about me the other day if that’s any indication as to my skills.
I stand up and slowly walk toward her until I’m standing right behind her. And I can’t help myself. Maybe it’s the booze or maybe just my natural flirtatious behavior, but I lean down so my lips are right at her ear and whisper, “I’m really good.”
I hear a small gasp escape her lips. She smells incredible. Soft. Sweet. Orange-spice. And up to now, I’ve been on the defense, trying to keep myself in check, giving her distance. Space. But in this moment, I let go of it all and let nature take over.
My mouth brushes the sensitive skin under her ear. It’s exquisitely smooth. Like the silk edging on a blanket. My first kiss is just a nip and I feel her body instinctively stiffen. I go in for another, this time allowing my lips to linger and flit over the exposed skin. I feel her gasp before I hear it.
Her body relaxes and I take the opportunity to step in so my chest is pressed against her back, the top of her head just underneath my chin. The next kiss I use my tongue to lick a line from the base of her neck to her earlobe and then nip the cushiony lobe with my teeth. Whether she realizes it or not, Ainsley nestles her butt against my groin.
Goddamn. It’s almost too much.
Almost.
My hands find her waist and I grab both hips, spinning her around to face me. Just before I take possession of her mouth with mine, I say, “Shooting guard.”
I doubt she even takes notice of the answer I give her to the question about what position I play because she lets out the most fantastic moan when my lips meet hers in an open mouthed kiss. She tastes like Dr. Pepper and cinnamon. So delicious and delectable. I can’t get enough.
My tongue plunders her mouth, in search of more from her. To taste her. To feed on her. To go wild on her. The heat of her body seeps into my pores. The soft texture of her smooth legs rub against my own, creating a friction that sends all my blood down south. I have to direct my hands up to her face, to cup her cheeks, otherwise they’d wind up on her ass where I’d pick her up and throw her down on the bed.
A low growl erupts from my chest when her own hands grasp my ass and she squeezes. Hard. Holy shit. That’s so hot. I love it when a girl gets handsy.
We continue kissing, sucking on each other’s lips, conquering one another’s sounds and moans. I want this to go all night. Stop time and just kiss the ever-loving fuck out of Ainsley. Nothing else matters in this moment except touching her. She’s all I’ve ever wanted.
My lips move down her jawline, placing small wet kisses on every part of her skin. I meet up with her earlobe again and pull it between my teeth and suck hard. The sexy gasp she makes is a perfect complement to the way her body suddenly conforms to mine, arching into me. I can’t resist any longer. My arms swing behind her, my hands move to cup her ass and I pick her up. Her legs instinctively wrap around my waist for support as I press her against the wall to gain leverage, our bodies aligning so perfectly it hurts.
My cock is nestled between her legs, counting down the clock and readying itself to launch. The heat emitting from her center is glorious. I want to be inside that heat. Soon. I take advantage of our perfectly aligned symmetry and start to move. I don’t even realize it, but my body knows what to do. I just keep kissing her neck, moving down to the scooped cut-out at her collarbone. Her skin t
astes amazing. Like a sunrise breakfast in Hawaii.
As my brain begins calculating the fastest route to my bed, my bedroom door swings open, allowing a flood of sound and light to come pouring in.
“What the hell?” I grunt, turning my head to search out the offending perpetrator while keeping my palms planted firmly on Ainsley’s ass. I’m about ready to unleash my fury.
And then I see Lance come stumbling in, oblivious to anything going on between me and Ainsley.
“Dude. Get the fuck out!”
His head pops up, mouth gaping open. “I gotta take a leak, man,” he mumbles in a drunken stammer, his hand automatically cupping his dick. “And there’s a line.”
His eyes, half-lidded, seek mine before locking on Ainsley, who is ducking her head into the crook of my neck. I like the feel of her warm breath as she lets out a hysterical half laugh/groan.
“Impeccable timing, Lance.” I tip my chin over to see Lance, who stops in his tracks as it seems to finally dawn on him what we’re up to and he makes the most exaggerated hand gesture toward us.
“Oooooh…you guys are getting busy. Nice!” He yells out boisterously, practically loud enough for the entire apartment to hear his announcement. “You naughty, naughty kids.”
Ainsley wiggles in my arms. “Oh my God…but I think that’s my cue to leave. I’ve gotta get going. It’s getting late.”
I shake my head in denial. I don’t want her to leave yet.
“No…not yet. Just wait until he’s gone.”
Lance makes it to the bathroom but doesn’t even bother to shut the door behind him. Jesus. What an asswipe.
A loud belch and then a long, contented sigh follow. And then all we hear for the next minute is something close to the sound of a waterfall hitting the toilet water. Ainsley lifts her face to me and we simultaneously crack up.
“Geez can that guy pee.” She says between bouts of giggles.
I take the moment to admire her face. Her cheeks are colored a sweet rosy shade, either from embarrassment or the heat that we had just been producing together. The smile she wears is carefree and natural, and it makes me want to see her like this all the time. She’s happy right now. She’s happy with me.