by J. S. Scott
Lauren
In a blissful state between sleep and waking, I smiled and rolled onto my side in my bed. I’d never known sex could be like what I’d experienced with Graham, and loved that my discovery had been literally at his hands. Hands. Tongue. Cock. I wondered why more studies weren’t done on how to attain quality orgasms. Now that I’d had one, I didn’t want to go back to what I was able to produce on my own.
One might argue that both released the same chemicals into the body, but the difference defied conventional descriptions. I tried to imagine what my professors would have said had I chosen that topic for my dissertation. Supporting data required more than anecdotal evidence.
Or perhaps seeing my perma-smile would have been sufficient. Really, who could argue with that?
I threw my arm out, seeking Graham. I’d fallen asleep in his arms and had thought I’d wake to the same. Reluctantly I opened my eyes to the bright late morning sun. He wasn’t in the bed anymore.
I cocked my head and listened for the shower. Would either of us be able to walk later if I joined him in there? It was a risk I would have taken had I heard water running.
Still glowing from our marathon of lovemaking, I sat up and stretched. I caught a glimpse of myself in the bureau mirror. My hair was wildly tussled, my face pink and happy. I looked exactly as sated as I felt.
Knowing Graham, he was probably out for a run. Although he indulged in sweets occasionally, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him because he worked out daily.
Deciding he was a better person than I was, I trudged to the bathroom to shower. Beneath the hot spray, I planned the start of the day. If he hadn’t already made something, I’d make breakfast for us. After that, we’d talk. I prayed that by then I’d have the words to convince him that he was so much better of a person than he gave himself credit for. Somehow I’d find a way to make him feel as right with himself as he made me feel with myself.
On impulse, I applied makeup—not because Graham hadn’t seen me a thousand times without it, but because I felt beautiful and sexy and wanted to reflect that.
I shook my head at my conservative underclothing. None of it represented how I felt. Did I dare go without? I’d never. I didn’t have a dress with me. I did, however, have an oversized sweater that could double as a mid-thigh dress if I were brave enough to wear it as one.
Bra or no bra?
I decided the likelihood of us leaving the chalet that day was slim so I slid only the sweater on and walked out of my bedroom. There was no sign of Graham in the house so I started a pot of coffee. A moment later, I was blissfully sipping at a cup of some while hunting for my phone.
After locating it, I curled up on the living room couch, put on some soft music and checked my messages.
Jack wanted to know how Graham was doing. I made a face at the phone. Really, Jack? I was tempted to tell him that Graham was surprisingly just fine—better than fine and that we didn’t need either him or Hope in our lives.
I sent Graham a quick text asking him what time he’d be back so I would know when to start breakfast. He didn’t answer. Possibly because he couldn’t hear his phone’s notifications while he was running. There was also a chance he’d left his phone somewhere in the chalet.
One cup of coffee became two. I snacked on a leftover muffin while waiting for him to either answer me or return.
Eventually I wandered to the front room of the chalet and looked out at the driveway. Graham’s car was gone. My stomach tightened nervously, but I told myself I was being silly. Graham wouldn’t leave me—not after what we’d shared. Even if he wasn’t in love with me, he cared about me. This wasn’t a one-night stand scenario where he would run off after having gotten what he wanted.
He hadn’t even been the one who’d initiated the sex.
Telling myself I was in danger of once again focusing on the worst-case scenario instead of letting myself have this day of wonder, I made my way to his bedroom. I didn’t immediately open the door. I stood there, holding the doorknob, telling myself that last night had been possible only because I didn’t let my fears ruin it.
With a defiant flip of my hair, I swung the door wide open. His bed was unmade and empty. I rushed to the closet then to the bathroom. His luggage was gone.
Gone.
In a dazed state, I made my way back to my phone and checked for a message from him. Nothing. Just the message from Jack asking how Graham was.
I laughed without humor. I thought I knew him, but I guess I didn’t.
I didn’t know how he was, where he was, or why he had left.
I sank back onto the couch, fighting back nausea as tears welled in my eyes. I wanted to text him, but I’d already sent him a message. I didn’t want to write anything while my emotions were so raw and confused.
I was a science driven person who didn’t put a lot of stock in things that couldn’t be measured or quantified—except when it came to Graham. I believed in him as I believed in almost nothing else.
Why did you leave, Graham? I didn’t understand.
And I didn’t know what I was supposed to do now.
CHAPTER 17
Graham
SEVEN YEARS AGO…
“I’m going to miss you so much, Graham,” a tearful, fifteen-year-old Lauren said sadly during a quiet moment alone at the high school graduation party that her dad was having for both me and Jack.
If Ben hadn’t stepped in to include me with Jack, making this a joint graduation party, I’d probably be alone. My current foster parents—I’d lost track of what number foster family they were—wanted me gone now that I was graduating, and I couldn’t wait to make that dream come true for them. I was off to the East Coast to attend college. And I couldn’t wait to get there.
I’d been awarded a full scholarship to college for playing football there, and I was getting closer and closer to my goals.
Unfortunately, I was having a harder time achieving those goals because my body and mind didn’t seem to be cooperating lately. But I’d get through that. I wasn’t going to blow the opportunity I had right now.
My only regret was saying goodbye to the best friends I’d ever had. But Lauren was already done with high school, and was in college putting her incredible brain to work, even though it didn’t seem like much of a challenge for her.
And Jack was attending college here in Colorado.
“I’ll miss you, too, Peanut,” I said huskily as we sat on a very familiar porch swing together.
God, how I’d miss her. She was the little sister I’d never had, but also like a friend who always had my back.
“I got you something,” she said quietly as she passed me a neatly wrapped, small package. “I don’t have much money, but I had to put a lot of time into finding it. It’s kind of silly, but I couldn’t think of anything else.”
I grinned at her and started tearing off the wrapping paper. “You didn’t have to do this, Peanut. You’ve helped me plenty with getting decent grades to graduate.”
There was no way I could repay Lauren for all the time she’d spent helping me with my classes. She’d been the reason I’d actually graduated.
“I wanted you to have something from me,” she answered. “It’s nothing, really.”
I opened the lid on the small box, and stared at the tiny shamrock inside the box.
I counted the leaves.
One. Two. Three… Four?
I put a finger to the delicate leaves. “You found a four-leafed clover?”
For fun, we’d searched for the elusive symbol of luck many times as kids, but we’d never found one.
“I had to find different locations to search, but I finally did it,” she said shyly.
I could picture Lauren methodically searching for it. “It must have taken days.” I was in awe of her tenacity. It took patience to comb through greenery to find what w
as beneath my fingertip. More discipline than I’d ever had.
She nodded solemnly. “It took a long time, but maybe it will help you with your football.”
Lauren wasn’t the whimsical type. I got a lump in my throat and my stomach ached from imagining how much she’d had to fight her analytic instincts to look for something like this.
I put the lid back on the box carefully. “Thanks, Peanut,” I said hoarsely. “I’ll always appreciate this.”
There was no doubt I’d keep it with me to remind me of how much somebody believed in me.
She shrugged. “I know it will die, and you’ll eventually throw it away, but I wanted you to know that I’ll be here rooting for you.”
I punched her in the arm playfully. “I’m not losing it. This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.”
Maybe I didn’t believe in luck because I’d had to fight for everything I’d gotten. Sometimes literally. But her gift would always mean a lot to me just because she’d had to comb through fields to finally find it.
And she’d done it for me, even though her logical mind didn’t believe much in luck, either.
“Will you call me?” she asked.
“You know I will,” I answered immediately. Jack’s dad had bought us each a cell phone last Christmas.
“I know you’ll be busy,” she said rationally. “You can just text if you want.”
I grinned at her. “I might need to hear your voice. I might need a friend.”
College was going to be a whole new world, and I was going to have to face it without Jack and Lauren. The thought terrified me, but I wanted to make the whole Swift family proud.
Maybe I’d never needed anybody but them, but now I was going to be totally alone in a place where everybody wanted the position of star quarterback. I was determined to get and keep that job, no matter what I had to do to get it.
“Don’t forget I’m here if you need me,” she reminded me for the hundredth time.
I never got tired of hearing her say it.
We both saw more people arriving, so we stood. She hesitated for a moment before she threw herself in my arms the way she always did when she was troubled.
“I love you, Graham. Be careful on the East Coast.”
My heart thumped as I put my arms around her. I wanted to tell her that I loved her, too. That I’d always loved her like a sister. But the words just wouldn’t come out of my mouth.
“I’ll miss you, too, Peanut,” I said, forcing the words through the enormous lump that was still sitting in my throat.
I gave her a quick peck on top of her head as I released her.
Letting go of the only person who had ever said that they loved me, at least the only person I could remember, was much harder than I thought it would be.
CHAPTER 18
Graham
THE PRESENT…
It had been an entire week since I’d slept with Lauren.
And I was barely fucking surviving.
I’d had to hold myself back from answering her text. In fact, I’d come so close to begging her for forgiveness that I finally slammed my phone against the wall, breaking it so I wouldn’t use the damn thing to do something dangerous—like calling her just to see if she was okay.
I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t talk to her. I couldn’t explain what I’d done.
I’d gotten a new phone, but I couldn’t shake the emptiness that had been eating at me since the moment I’d stepped outside the cabin in Aspen to head for Denver.
“I’m a chicken shit son-of-a-bitch,” I cursed as I aimed and let go of the football, hitting my target just a little off-center.
I should have stayed and told Lauren in person that I couldn’t fuck her again, that I wanted to go back to being friends, but I hadn’t. Probably because I’d been afraid that I wouldn’t be able to say the words I needed to say.
Fucking Lauren was like a drug. She was addicting, and I knew if I saw her eyes open the morning I’d left, I wouldn’t have been able to walk away. Every instinct had been screaming at me to stay, but my rational mind knew I couldn’t be with her again.
I had to think about her well-being, something I hadn’t thought about once the whole time I’d been screwing her. But I was thinking pretty damn hard about it now.
Tyler “Ty” Miller, my new wide receiver, had needed to adjust quickly to catch the pass, but he’d pulled the ball in effortlessly.
It was probably just as well that Ty had called me to see if I wanted to get some practice in well before we started officially on the practice field. I needed to work off steam. I’d been so fucking restless that I’d actually been glad he called, even though I’d promised myself a break before I got back on the field again.
Tossing balls beat getting off with my hand every damn day. Yeah, I probably could have found a woman who would fuck me, but I was pretty sure Lauren had ruined me, at least for now.
I lifted another ball from the ground as I prepared to toss another long pass.
I tried not to think about what Lauren was doing.
And I failed fucking miserably.
She was safe. I knew that. I’d checked on her myself. There was no way I could keep from stalking her dad’s place to see if she got home okay. Her car had been in front of the house before nightfall the same day I’d left Aspen.
Lauren had left a voicemail earlier this morning. I hadn’t answered. I hadn’t replied to her in any way. It was the only way I could keep myself in check.
And even that wasn’t working out well for me.
How in the hell could I explain why I’d gone? I spent one fucking perfect night with her, and then walked out the door before she even woke up.
What kind of asshole did that shit?
Just. Me.
And I hated myself for it.
I’d woken up a little after sunrise, and the realization of what I’d allowed myself to do really sank in.
I’d screwed the woman who’d always been there for me, cared about me.
Lauren. My Peanut. What in the hell had I been thinking?
Honestly, I probably hadn’t been thinking anything. My dick had been totally in control.
Ty motioned to me that he was ready, and I forced myself to concentrate as I tossed the football.
It was still a little off, but I didn’t have to worry about Ty. He was the type of guy who was going to get the football into his hands regardless of how I was throwing.
Then again, Ty Miller was a first-round draft pick who’d scored a pretty decent contract for a guy who was just out of college. He should be good. The Cats had paid a lot of money to get him on their team.
My receiver trotted toward the sidelines, so I followed him.
“Jesus Christ, it’s cold,” Ty said with a grin.
“Get used to it,” I stated flatly. “You’re not in Florida anymore.”
The field was clear of snow, but the temperatures were pretty frigid. I had no doubt Tyler was feeling it. He’d grown up in Florida, and he’d played college ball there, too.
I watched as he threw back a bottle of water. He seemed like a decent guy, but I wasn’t exactly chatty. I pretty much minded my own business in a team setting unless the players were fucking up. It was safer that way. My best friend had just lost my trust, and I wasn’t willing to stick my neck out again.
Tyler didn’t know me, and I didn’t know him.
Just the way I liked it.
“You married?” he asked me innocently.
“I was engaged. We broke up.” I grabbed my water bottle and quenched my thirst.
“You cheat on her?”
God, the bastard was curious. Too curious.
I dropped the water bottle back onto the bench. “Nope. She screwed my best friend.”
Maybe I was counting on honesty shu
tting him up. I figured if I blurted out the truth, he’d stop asking questions.
I was wrong.
He scowled as he answered, “That’s fucked up, man.”
I shrugged. “She made her choice.”
“You’re okay with that?”
I lost my patience. “Hell, no, I’m not okay with it.” I was still hurting over what Jack had done. “I lost my best friend.”
“What about her?” he asked as he set his empty water bottle on the bench. “You sound more put out about your buddy than your fiancée.”
“Why in the hell would I be upset over a woman who wanted to fuck another guy?”
Ty shrugged. “If you were going to marry her, it had to hurt.”
“It didn’t,” I denied, knowing I was telling him the truth. I’d thought a lot about Hope. She’d probably done me a favor. My pride was more injured than my emotions.
He hesitated before he said carefully, “I’ve heard that you’re an asshole to work with. My buddy who plays left tackle for New England warned me about you. I’m not trying to be rude, but I just wanted to get that out there. I’m hoping we can have a better relationship than you had with your receivers on your last team.”
I’d been a dick to my last team. I let them know every damn time they’d made a mistake. I knew it, but I guess I didn’t like him saying it out loud. “I had to take my chance when our QB went out with an injury. Maybe I was a jerk, but I just wanted all of them to work as hard as I did. It’s too damn competitive not to give it everything you’ve got on the field.”
I sized Ty Miller up, trying to decide which one of us would win in a fight. I did that a lot with other members of the team. He was a little bit shorter than me, and probably leaner, but he had speed and agility on his side. I wasn’t fooled by his friendly mannerisms. He might look like an all-American surfer dude with his blond hair and blue eyes, but if he’d been a first-round draft pick, the guy was tough.
I’d watched his college career. He was nearly flawless.
“I get it,” he replied as he took a seat on the cold bench. “I don’t want to play football forever, but I need it right now.”