Lover's Game (South Bay Soundtracks Book 3)

by Amelia Stone

  I frowned. She’d had a burger for dinner, with a salad on the side. And extra pickles. Nothing she’d eaten had seemed particularly decadent to me, but then, I’d always had the appetite of a baby hippo.

  “So?”

  She grimaced. “So, any number of bad things will happen if I gain weight. For starters, I won’t fit into my dress next week, which will prompt Phoebe to attempt to wear me as a dress.”

  I snorted. “I highly doubt your sister is going to pull a Buffalo Bill on you.”

  “You haven’t seen all her messages the last few months.” She pulled out her phone, unlocking it and sliding it across the table. “See? Look at this thread.”

  I obliged, and my frown grew as I scrolled through the messages. It was email after email of Phoebe Summers threatening her sisters not to gain any weight before Jess’s wedding, and her sisters replying with the verbal equivalent of an eye roll. There was even the occasional reminder from Lindsay, the eldest, that she was pregnant and therefore supposed to gain at least some weight.

  I looked up to see Krista chewing her lip, her eyes wide and anxious.

  “This doesn’t seem like the Phoebe I remember.”

  Krista’s middle sister had always been cool, and I’d never heard her judge or demean anyone, least of all my best friend. Yes, she’d worked in the fashion industry for a lot of years, and that was a community rife with unrealistic expectations about beauty. But Phoebe had always just worked with whatever bodies were given to her, from what I recalled.

  Krista let out a frustrated little growl. “I know it’s not like her. But she has gone absolutely crazy ever since Jess announced her engagement. It’s like she’s become the Weight Police.” Her face darkened. “And you know I’m self-conscious about that anyway.”

  I frowned. “Still?” Krista was a gorgeous woman, with a body that made me want to write terrible poems.

  Roses are red,

  Violets are blue,

  Your tits are hot,

  I wanna fuck you.

  Okay, so it needed some work.

  “Yes, still.” She gave me a frustrated look. “Just because I’m not the little fat girl anymore doesn’t mean she’s disappeared. It’s like she hides out in the dark corners of my brain, feeding on memories of all the times someone made me feel like a chubby, ugly loser.”

  “You were never a loser, Krista,” I growled, feeling frustrated that the amazing woman in front of me had ever seen herself as anything less than the goddess she was – the goddess she’d always been. “Not to me.”

  She shook her head. “I know you never made fun of me, but you also never…” She huffed. “You know what? Never mind.” She picked up her spoon again and started angrily stabbing her sorbet.

  “Hey.” I reached across the table, grabbing her hand. “Talk to me.”

  She looked up again, blinking rapidly. “Sorry. I keep getting angry with you for no reason. I guess I’m having a bad day.” She laughed, but it was without humor. “You know how I am on less than eight hours of sleep.”

  I nodded gently. “I do. But I don’t think that’s all that’s bothering you, is it?”

  She closed her eyes, and it seemed like she was struggling with what to say again. I gently squeezed her hand, trying to give her support or encouragement or I hardly knew what. I just hoped that whatever she needed, I could provide.

  “It’s just, sometimes I feel like an imposter, you know? People compliment me, or even congratulate me on the way I look, and I just want to scream that I don’t deserve it.” She looked at me again, and her eyes were so sad that my heart actually ached, thudding dully against my ribs. “It doesn’t matter how many years I’ve had this body, I still feel like that girl who needed to hide her flabby belly in tee shirts that were too big for her.”

  I had to take a deep breath before I could respond. The idea that she doubted her appeal – doubted any part of herself – had me seeing red. When I finally felt calm enough, I squeezed her hand again, though this time it was to give myself strength.

  “Krista, I know I can’t change your opinion of yourself. Only you can do that. But understand this: I have never thought, not for one goddamn second, that you were anything less than extraordinary.”

  She frowned. “But you’ve known me forever. It’s only natural for you to have a good opinion of me, after all this time.”

  I shook my head stubbornly. “I’ve always known you were special.” I took a deep breath. “I knew you were special when we were five years old. The day I met you, I took one look at you and knew that I’d found the other half of me.” I pulled her hand toward me, holding it between both of mine. “It doesn’t matter what you look like. I mean, do I like your freckles, and your hair, and your ass? Absolutely.”

  She huffed, the corners of her lips tipping up. “My ass?”

  “Oh yeah.” I gave her a wicked grin. “But it’s not my favorite part of you.”

  “No?” She looked up at me with huge eyes the color of the sky at twilight.

  “No.” I took our joined hands, lifting them until they hovered over her chest. Then I pressed them to the soft skin just above her heart. “This is. Your heart. Your creativity, and your passion, your humor and intelligence.” I swallowed, surprised at the emotional turn I’d taken. “It’s all the things we’ve shared together that make you beautiful to me. The memories, the laughter, the music, the games. The part of you that is part of me.”

  She was quiet for a few moments, and she swallowed a few times, like she was struggling with what to say once more. Finally she closed her eyes.

  “You know, Plato had this idea that humans were originally made with two sets of everything.”

  I raised a brow at the abrupt change of subject. “Everything?”

  She gave me a wry smile as she opened her eyes again. “Everything.”

  I glanced down at my crotch. “I love having a dick. But oddly, I’m not sure how I’d feel about having two.”

  She chuckled. “Well, the gods certainly didn’t like it. We humans were getting too big for our britches, and the lords of Olympus were jealous of our beauty and strength, and angered by our pride. So Zeus decided to split us in half as punishment for climbing too high above our place.”

  “I’ve always thought Zeus was a douchebag.” I might not have wanted two sets of junk, but being separated from half of myself?

  I’d experienced something pretty similar to that. I fucking hated it.

  “Indeed.” Her smile was sad, and I leaned forward, fascinated by her story despite not knowing where she was going with it. “But luckily for us, Apollo took pity on the inconsolable humans wandering the Earth, blindly searching for the rest of their bodies. So he sewed us back together in such a way that the two halves became two wholes. Our belly buttons are said to be the point at which all the loose ends were pulled together.”

  “But wouldn’t that mean there were still two humans walking around who used to be one?”

  She nodded. “That’s where the idea of soulmates comes in. You know you’ve found your soulmate when it feels like you’ve found the other half of yourself in another body.”

  I sucked in a breath, then swallowed roughly. I stared at her for a few moments, unable to string together even a couple of words to form a reply.

  “So maybe you can be the part of me that has good self-esteem?” She smiled, but it looked like a struggle, like she was desperately trying to make light of the heavy shit she’d just laid out on the table.

  I breathed slowly, deliberately. Trying like hell to calm my racing heart, to come up with the perfect words.

  “I’ll be whatever you need me to be,” I finally told her. “I will always be whatever you need.”

  She blinked again, those long, dark eyelashes fluttering, trying to combat the tears I knew she didn’t want to shed.

  “I just need you to be Seth,” she whispered. “That’s always been enough for me.”

  Seth held my hand on the walk home, an
d I was surprised to find myself feeling feverish and achy from little more than his palm pressing against mine, my fingers intertwined with his, the swinging of our joined hands as we strolled through the streets of South Bay.

  After everything that had happened during our ice cream social, I thought I’d be sad, and probably more than a little embarrassed. I’d dumped a huge amount of angst and insecurity on his shoulders, and I would normally be exhausted right about now.

  But I wasn’t. Instead, I felt electrified, like his words had recharged my batteries and left me ready to take the next step. He thought of me as his other half. He saw me, really saw me, like I’d always wanted him to. He saw me, and accepted me, and wanted me.

  I was practically climbing out of my skin by the time we turned onto our block.

  “So listen,” he said as we approached my parents’ house. “I know I said earlier that I want to be with you every night, but after all of that,” he continued, hooking a thumb over his shoulder like he was gesturing to our earlier conversation, “I understand if you want to be alone right now.”

  I didn’t want to be alone right now. I wanted to be closer to him, as close as I could possibly be. I wanted to climb inside his skin and live there for a while.

  Okay, that was kind of gross. But you get the idea.

  He started to turn up the brick path to my parents’ front porch, but I tugged on his hand to stop him. He turned to me, a quizzical frown wrinkling his brow.

  “I don’t want to go home,” I told him.

  “Okay.” He nodded slowly. “You can sleep at my place. Just sleep, I mean. I don’t have any expectations.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to sleep.”

  “No?” His eyebrows shot up.

  I shook my head again as I stepped closer, laying my hands on his chest. “No.”

  “What exactly did you have in mind, then?” The corners of his lips tipped up in a curious smile.

  I lifted my heels to whisper in his ear. “Well, I did some research today.”

  Beneath my hands, I felt his muscles stiffen. “Oh?”

  I nodded. “Uh huh. And I think I’ve determined the best positions for rehab sex.”

  He let out a soft groan. “Krista, we don’t have to-”

  I cut him off by pressing my lips to his, swallowing the rest of his reply. I put everything I had into the kiss, all my hunger, and need, and impatience with his gentlemanly protests. Enough demurring, my tongue communicated without words. Take me home and fuck me.

  “We have to,” I assured him as I broke the kiss. “We really, really have to.”

  I’d been thinking about it all day, ever since the beach, when he’d nearly taken me against a concrete wall in a storage shed. And much to my surprise, I was ready to let him, and my body was not happy that he’d stopped before we got to the good part. I’d had a serious case of clitoris frustratus since then, and not even the heavy emotions of our dessert talk had dampened it.

  He grinned down at me. “Well, who am I to argue with that?”

  I tugged his hand once more, leading him past my parents’ huge old house and down the street to his more modest beach cottage. He unlocked the front door quickly, his steady hands a contrast to my own trembling ones. I could feel the anticipation coursing through my veins, and my skin hummed as he expertly pulled me through the mess in his living room, down a seemingly endless hallway, and finally to his bedroom.

  He flipped the light on, then turned to me, his nervous expression belying the surety of his motions.

  “Where do you want me?”

  I grinned as I gently pushed him toward the bed, mindful of his knee. “Take your clothes off.”

  “Damn.” He grinned as he kicked his shoes off. Then his hands reached for his belt buckle. “I think I like bossy Krista.”

  I took a breath, and then another, trying to calm my racing heart. The heat in his eyes was something I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d see, and the abrupt change was making my head spin.

  “Well,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, “bossy Krista is exactly what you’re getting tonight, mister.”

  He hummed in approval. “Sounds good to me.”

  I watched as he peeled off layers of clothing, dropping them to the floor one by one. Jeans. Shirt. Undershirt. Sock. Other sock. And then Seth was standing before me in nothing but his boxers.

  His boxers that had… were those sloths? Eating pizza?

  I grinned as I stepped toward him. “Let me guess. They were a gift.”

  He shook his head. “Nah. These I bought myself.”

  I chuckled as I tipped my head up for a kiss, and he obliged, his hands snaking around my waist as he slowly slid his tongue against mine, like he was savoring me.

  “Of course you did,” I murmured, when he pulled back.

  “I have some with llamas, too. They actually look like they’re frolicking when I move.”

  I giggled, feeling suddenly giddy with affection for the goofy, sexy guy standing in front of me.

  “I’ll take your word for it,” I told him, when the giggles had subsided.

  “Enough frolicking llamas.” He laughed as he pulled me toward the bed. “Why am I the only one who’s naked here?”

  I tapped a finger against my chin. “But are you really naked if you’re still wearing underwear?”

  He grinned as he reached down, pushing the waistband of his boxers down slowly, teasing me. But then they were around his ankles, and he was stepping out of them.

  He took the final step toward the bed. “How do you want me?”

  Just like that. Always. He was standing there with all that beautiful terra cotta skin on display, from his broad shoulders, to his tattoo, to the surgery scars on his knee, to the frankly intimidating erection pointing straight up to his belly button. It was all perfect. And it was all for me.

  I cleared my throat. “Lie back on the bed.”

  He gave me a wicked grin. “Please tell me you are gonna ride my cock until I weep.”

  I felt a flush creep up from my chest all the way to the roots of my hair. “Maybe.”

  He climbed carefully onto the bed, giving me a brief peek at his tight butt, which formed a perfect bubble shape. I made a mental note to explore that in the future. In the meantime, I watched as he flipped over, folding his arms over his head and propping his head up on them. When he was all settled in, he looked up at me with molten eyes that were almost black in the lamp light.

  “Naked. Now.”

  I took a deep breath as my shaking hands moved to my waist. Naked. In front of Seth. I could do that.

  Maybe.

  I took another deep, steadying breath, reminding myself that he liked me. He liked my ass and my freckles and he’d had at least two boners because of me. It would be fine.

  Totally, completely fine.

  “By the way, I’m trying really hard not to take it personally that you wore that tee shirt on a date.”

  I looked down, following his frowning gaze. I was wearing one of my favorites: a classic tattoo-style drawing of Luke and Leia kissing, with the words “Looking for love in Alderaan places” on a banner surrounding it. I had debated for a while before putting it on earlier that evening.

  In the end, I simply didn’t have a ton of other options. I hadn’t exactly packed a bunch of date night outfits to bring with me, though I suppose I could have borrowed something from Jess if I really wanted to. But something about wearing this particular shirt tonight had appealed to the impish side of me.

  I looked back up at him, smirking. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He returned my smirk. “I’ll forgive it,” he rumbled. “If you take it off right now.”

  I swallowed roughly. Right. Naked. In front of another person. Historically, not my favorite thing to do. And knowing the other person was Seth ratcheted the pressure up to full boil.

  But it helped that he clearly desired me, since he was so insistent on me not wearing my clothe
s right now. So I crossed my arms over my torso and grabbed the hem of my shirt. Then I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled it up and over my head.

  He made a sound as my hands once again moved to the waistband of my shorts, a groan that sent a shiver up my spine.

  “More,” he demanded.

  My eyes popped open, and I hurried to comply, needing to hear more of this demanding version of Seth. I wouldn’t have thought I’d be into it, but somehow I was, and not just because it was coming from him.

  I liked that he was chipping away at my indecision with every growly command, taking away the opportunity to second-guess myself every time he looked at me with that liquid heat in his eyes. He was stealing my instinct to talk myself out of having this thing that I needed so badly, but didn’t feel I deserved.

  He wanted me, and that was powerful, heady, mind-bending stuff. It was enough to convince me I could have this, even if just for tonight.

  Once I’d stepped out of my shorts, his eyes roamed my body, now clad in nothing but my bra and panties.

  “Come here.”

  I bit my lip as I climbed onto the bed, pulling myself up toward him on hands and knees.

  “I didn’t expect this,” he said, his eyes on the bralette and panties. They were both unlined, and I knew he could see everything through the royal blue lace.

  When I was close enough to touch, his arm hooked around my waist, pulling me down until I was lying on top of him. Then he captured my mouth, delving deep, and deeper still, his silken tongue caressing mine again and again, until I started to squirm, restlessly seeking relief for the fever invading my bones.

  He broke the kiss, and his fingers began to trace the lacy strap of my bralette. “Pretty,” he murmured, those clever fingers following the line down to my back. “I like it.”

  My cheeks were already flushed from the kisses, but they grew hot at the approval in his dark eyes as he looked me over.

  “I like pretty lingerie,” I admitted in a whisper. “I like the way it feels against my skin.”

  He grinned. “I like it too.”

  I nodded seriously. “I get that. You’d look really pretty in some lacy boy shorts, or maybe-”

  A laugh rumbled up his chest, and he rolled us over in one swift move, pushing me onto my back and pressing his lips to mine once more.