Since Drew

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Since Drew Page 12

by J. Nathan


  Drew pulled back, his eyes locking on mine. “No, I’m serious. Promise me we’ll do it again.”

  I looked up into the stormy green oceans gazing down at me. He was serious. And though I wished I didn’t, I really liked that he was. “Okay.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “Thank God.”

  We spent the remainder of the shower taking turns washing each other. Once he’d finished washing my body—and I mean every inch of my body, leaving no spot ignored—I moved the sudsy loofah over his, examining every part up close for the first time. His rippled abs. His muscular back. His strong legs. The dimples above his ass. Every inch better than the last.

  “I’m holding you to that promise,” he said as I moved the loofah over his shoulders.

  “Are you that worried you won’t get laid once I’m gone?”

  Deep ridges formed in his forehead.

  “Girls might be scared to touch you,” I explained. “Once they find out you were in a coma.”

  “What girls?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Groupies. Other girls.”

  “I’m not interested in other girls.”

  My stomach fluttered, dipped, and rolled. He couldn’t be serious. Though every part of me hoped he was. “Drew? You never told me what happened to you.”

  Darkness flashed in his expression. “You never asked.”

  “Well, I’m asking now.” I dropped the loofah to my side. “What happened?”

  He averted his gaze, speaking quickly. “I did something stupid.”

  My entire face scrunched up. “Playing football?”

  He did one of those shrug-nods.

  I could tell by his rigid body that he didn’t want to talk about it. “Well, you planning on doing it again?”

  His eyes jumped back to mine and he shook his head. He didn’t even try to conceal the seriousness in his voice. “No.”

  “Well good. Because I really don’t feel like talking to your mute self again. Or dealing with those awful side effects.”

  I thought my teasing would change the tense mood created by my prying, but Drew remained serious as the water cascaded over us. “I don’t want whatever this is to be over.”

  I lifted my hand to his wet cheek. “Why so serious?”

  “I know we’ve had our issues.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  He didn’t smile. “I just don’t want there to be any confusion.” He tried to smile, but I could see something else there. Hesitance. Fear.

  Attempting to ease his mind, I nodded. “Sure. No confusion.”

  An hour later, he walked me to my condo. It felt strange being back in my building. And even stranger having him there, outside my door, staring awkwardly down at me. After everything that happened between us, I was pretty damn certain about my uncertain feelings for Drew Slater. And they weren’t going anywhere, anytime soon.

  He forced a smile. “You’ve got my number. I expect you to use it. Often.”

  “What happened to me annoying you?”

  A sly smile spread across his lips—the same lips I’d have trouble not dreaming about after he left. Lips that had excelled at making my body very very happy. “Things change.”

  “Who’s to say I won’t get needy and text you every hour?”

  He shook his head. “You won’t. But just so we’re clear, I’m not opposed to late night booty calls. As a matter of fact, I welcome them.”

  “Well, I guess you’re just gonna have to wait and see.”

  The smile slipped from his face and he nodded. Then he leaned in and pressed his lips gently to mine, tasting them like they were something he wanted to savor. Something he’d never feel again.

  Then he stepped back and was gone.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Booty call?” Logan repeated, intrigued as ever with the details of my sex life.

  I lifted a glass of wine to my lips, nodding from the spot beside her on my sofa.

  “So? How was it?”

  “Come on.” I dropped my head back against the sofa cushion, unsure if I wanted her to work for it, or if I just wanted to keep the memory to myself for a little while longer.

  “What? I’m your best friend. We tell each other everything. Remember when you told me about Kyle’s small package?”

  “Small? It was none existent.”

  “But you told me. And what about the funky thing Craig did every time he came? You told me that, too.”

  “Ugh. God. Remember that?”

  “Remember? It’s there with me every time I’m in bed with a guy. Hoping and praying nothing like that ever happens to me.”

  I laughed, trying to shake the horrid image from my own mind.

  “Now spill it.”

  “Fine.” I considered how to accurately capture what happened between us, doubting I could do it justice—do him justice. “Whatever you’re thinking, it was better. A lot better.”

  Her eyes shot wide with envy. “I’ve had my fair share of football players. But this one’s a quarterback and heading to the pros—”

  “Might be heading to the pros,” I corrected.

  “All I’m saying is he can obviously do more with that hot body than just throw a football.”

  It came out before I could stop it. “Got that right.”

  She slammed her hand down on the armrest. “You lucky bitch.”

  I smiled. “Yup.”

  “Are you gonna call?”

  I shrugged. “It’s screwed up, don’t you think?”

  “What? Two hot people fucking. Not at all.”

  I titled my head. “Us. Me and him. We hated each other.”

  “Hated. Past tense. Now you’re getting busy.”

  I gnawed on my bottom lip. Was that what we were doing? I hadn’t heard from him since he left hours before. Not that I expected to. But still. I wondered if out of sight for him meant out of mind. Avery said he didn’t need to do more than snap his fingers and girls were there ready to oblige. Why would he be waiting for me?

  “That’s if you have the balls to call him,” Logan challenged.

  She left a little while later, giving me time to consider her none-too-subtle push to call him. Drew and I did get on well—in bed. But out? How would that even work? Prior to our time at the beach house, most of our conversations had either been arguments or ended in arguments.

  I picked up my cell and scrolled through my contacts, staring down at his name on the screen. Could I do it? Should I do it?

  A knock on my door pulled me from my phone. I maneuvered myself up from the sofa with my crutches and moved to it. “Who is it?”

  I was greeted by silence.

  I gripped the knob, reluctant to open it. Officer Roy had put me on edge, doing a real number on my already overactive imagination.

  Another knocked jolted me back, speeding up my heart.

  “Who is it?”

  Instead of an answer there was another knock.

  What the hell? “Just so you know.” Yes, I was speaking to a door. “I’m not opening until I know who’s there. I’ve seen enough movies to know there are serial killers out there who prey on girls who live alone.”

  “And if I were a serial killer,” Drew’s deep voice informed me, sending chills up my arms. “You just made a huge mistake.”

  I tried unsuccessfully to suppress a grin. “And what’s that?” I looked down at the black yoga pants and off the shoulder top I’d been wearing since he dropped me off. Could be worse.

  “You told me you’re all alone in there. Big no-no.”

  I ripped the spare hair band off my wrist and quickly pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail. With a nervous smile, I grabbed the knob and pulled open the door. “Have at me, serial killer.”

  Drew stood with a paper bag in his arm and a grin. His baggy gray sweatpants hung low on his hips and his black Henley outlined every glorious muscle. God. He was so good looking I almost needed to look away.

  He stepped forward. I expected him
to come at me, move in for a kiss, plant his hands on my body, push me against the wall and have his way with me. But instead, he brushed right by me, causing me to shuffle to the side as he walked inside my condo like he’d been there a hundred times before. “You didn’t call.” He set the paper bag down on the island that separated my small kitchen from my living room.

  I closed the door then turned, staring across the room at him. “It’s been like eight hours.”

  “So, you were gonna make me wait?”

  “Um…”

  His eyes stayed on mine as he reached inside the bag. “How long?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know…”

  He didn’t respond right away, letting my answer stew. I wondered if he’d ever had to wait for anything in his life, especially a girl. “I hope you like Chinese food.” He pulled small white take-out boxes out of the bag and placed them on the island.

  “You brought dinner?”

  He turned and opened my cabinets, rummaging through until he found two dishes. “What’d you expect?”

  I shrugged, surprised by how comfortable he looked in my kitchen. In my condo. In my life. “Seeing as though I had no clue you were coming by, I didn’t expect anything.” Except maybe a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses.

  He eyed me across the two rooms with one of those grins that would’ve gotten him in my pants, had he not already have been there. “You’d make this a lot easier if you just came in here and told me where the forks and knives are.”

  I laughed to myself as I maneuvered my way over to the kitchen stool on my crutches, using the heel of my boot as my main support on the right side. “To the left of the fridge.”

  He nodded, pulling the utensils from the drawer and laying them beside our dishes.

  I opened the boxes, staring down at all the rice, noodles, and chicken dishes he’d brought. “Hungry?”

  He slid onto the stool beside me and dug right into the noodles. “You might say I had quite a workout this morning.”

  I could feel the heat creeping into my cheeks. “You might say,” I echoed.

  He spooned the noodles into a pile in his dish. “I actually want to apologize for that.”

  Every muscle in my body tensed. “Apologize?”

  He nodded as he dug into the rice, spooning a heaping mound into his dish. “Yeah. It never should’ve happened.”

  A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. “Oh?”

  He dropped the serving spoon and turned toward me. “You’re different.”

  “Different?” I couldn’t disguise the disgust in my voice.

  He placed his hands on my thighs, grasping them gently. “I should’ve treated you like someone I wanted to hold onto. Not someone I never wanted to see again.”

  My brows inverted. “What does that mean?”

  He smiled. “It means, I should’ve taken you out. Shown you off. Treated you the way a girl like you should be treated.”

  “And how should a girl like me be treated?”

  He looked me dead in the eyes. “Right.”

  A smile tugged at my lips. “This has got to be the first time in the history of man that a guy actually put on the brakes.”

  He laughed. “Tell me about it.”

  The tension released from my body and the knot unfurled in my stomach. “So you want to take it slower?”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yeah. I want to do this right.”

  “Well, just so you know, as soon as you’re ready to speed things up again, I wouldn’t be opposed to another shower.”

  That slow sexy smile slid across his lips. “Oh, sweetheart, you can count on that.”

  We shared a laugh, eating the rest of our meal with the same easy banter.

  When he’d cleared every last bit of food from his dish, he put down his fork. “I checked my phone all day waiting for your call.”

  My belly dipped. Had he really just admitted that? Weren’t guys supposed to play it cool? Wait a week before calling? He’d waited less than eight hours and shown up. He was breaking all the rules. And for what? Me? “Should I be flattered or worried about your stalker tendencies?”

  He laughed his smooth raspy laugh. “I don’t usually make a habit of caring whether I hear from a girl or not. But I told you, you’re different. So I wanted you to know. I wanted you to see you affect me.”

  Gulp. “Well, you could’ve called me, too, you know?”

  He dragged his fingers through his hair. All the honesty clearly unnerving him. “Yeah. Well, this is all new for me.”

  I put down my fork and pressed my napkin to my mouth, more to cover the smile itching to break free than to clean my lips. “What is?”

  “Dating someone.”

  I looked into his eyes, searching for indecision or maybe dishonesty. “Is that what we’re doing?”

  “I hope so,” he said, sporting the most vulnerable smile I’d ever seen.

  To avoid turning into a big pile of mush before his eyes, I stood without my crutches and picked up our dishes, limping awkwardly to the sink.

  “What are you doing?” He jumped to his feet and pulled the dishes from my hands. “I got these. Sit down.”

  Realizing walking on my boot wasn’t the best decision, I moved slowly back to my stool. I watched as Drew placed our dishes in the dishwasher. He really did look at home in my space. But he still hadn’t touched me. How slow did he plan on taking things?

  He picked up the boxes from the island and moved to the refrigerator. “I watched some of your races online.”

  My head flew back. “You did?”

  He nodded while placing the boxes on my bare shelves. “There were a bunch of them.”

  “Yeah. I spent so many hours watching and analyzing those races, trying to find any little thing I could do to shave seconds off my time. I haven’t watched them since my accident. I haven’t had the nerve.”

  He kept his back to me as he turned to the sink and washed his hands. “Well, for what it’s worth,” his voice became serious. “You were amazing.”

  Though he wasn’t looking at me, I shrugged. “Was.”

  He grabbed a dish towel and dried his hands over the sink. “You’ll get back there, Andi. I could see it in the way you ran. In the way you lit up at the finish lines.” He finally turned to face me. “For you, it’s the only option.”

  A silence passed between us. I couldn’t be sure where his head was, but mine was on his words. Was he right? Would I get back there? Was it my only option? “I didn’t watch any of your games.”

  Creases lined his forehead. “Why would you?”

  I tilted my head. “Why’d you watch mine?”

  He shrugged. “Curiosity.”

  “You sure it wasn’t to see me in my booty shorts?”

  A flash of something—recollection I hoped—passed in his eyes as he grinned. “There is definitely something to be said for whoever invented booty shorts.”

  I snorted. “So what would I have seen if I watched you in action, besides your own tight uniform?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Not much. Just perfection.”

  Laughter erupted from both of us.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” He walked back over to the island and reached into the paper bag he’d brought. “Dessert.” He pulled out a huge bag of gummy worms.

  I threw back my head and laughed. “You do know all that sugar isn’t good for you, right?”

  “Fuck that.” He dropped down beside me. “My girl likes gummy worms. We eat gummy worms.”

  My girl?

  He tore open the bag with his teeth. The thought of him ripping open the condom wrapper flashed in my mind and my body hummed. I watched him stuff a few worms into his mouth, letting them dangle out, before sucking them in, Andi-style. “Did I do it right?” he asked between chews.

  I reached into the bag and pulled out a few. I stuffed them into my mouth, letting them dangle out. Before I could suck them in, Drew leaned over and latched onto the exposed pi
eces, touching his lips to mine.

  My breath hitched at the unexpected heat coursing from my lips down through my veins. Was it the touch of his lips or the recollection of everything that transpired earlier? Whatever it was, it set my body on fire. There was no way we could go from rolling around naked together to whatever this was we were doing right now.

  Without warning, Drew sucked the worms right out of my mouth.

  That was unexpectedly hot.

  He pulled back, chomping down the chewy candy. Desire clouded his ridiculously pretty eyes as they bore into mine.

  They must’ve looked the same. Because if I didn’t want to jump his bones before, I certainly did now. Thoughts of what I wanted him to do to me—on the island, in my bedroom, in the shower, on the living room floor—flooded my mind.

  It couldn’t be stopped.

  I leaned toward him, pressing my lips to his. He opened slightly and I licked my way inside, loving the taste of gummy worms on his tongue. Sweet, enticing, and completely turning me on. I couldn’t get close enough. If not for the damn boot, I would’ve climbed into his lap and never let him up. Our attraction toward one another was undeniable. We just worked. Every part of us fit together.

  Drew pulled back, leaving me panting and needy. Why did he look so unfazed? “What do you say we watch a movie?”

  “A movie?” I could hear the shock in my voice.

  He nodded with a knowing smirk. “A movie.”

  “Is this your way of getting me on the sofa so you can get me naked?”

  He laughed his carefree laugh—the one I wanted to believe he reserved only for me. “No. Tonight it means we sit on that sofa.” He motioned toward it with his head. “And we watch a movie.”

  “Will there be cuddling?” I asked to be a smart-ass.

  “Cuddling?” The notion sounded foreign to him.

  I nodded. “Cuddling.”

  “I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  “Oh, well then you’re in luck. I’m an amazing cuddler. One of the best around.”

  His pretty eyes twinkled. Or at least in my biased mind they did. “Is that so?”

  I nodded.

  With the bag of candy in his hand, he jumped to his feet. “Race you to the sofa?”

  I looked skeptically down at my boot then back to his smirking face.

 

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