The Stillness Of You

by Julie Bale

  “Do you have plans today?” I asked lightly, tracing her nipple with my finger while I held her squiggling body prisoner.

  She stopped moving and bit her lip, her eyes shadowing a bit, which had me sitting straighter and pulling her shirt down.

  “I have to go home and shower,” she shrugged. “But other than that I have no plans.”

  “Good.”

  A small smile tugged the corners of her lips. “Why?”

  “Do you golf?”

  I could tell she was surprised, but she nodded. “Why?”

  “I’ve got a buddy who’s visiting family in the area and he invited me for a round with him and his girlfriend. I was hoping you’d come with me.”

  She didn’t say anything for the longest time and I was starting to get nervous thinking I’d somehow blown it already. What kind of guy invited a girl he’d just spent the hottest night of his life with to go golfing? I should be taking her to an expensive restaurant or something.

  But the thing of it was, I wanted her there. I wanted my buddy Jason Gills to meet her. We’d played college hockey together and now he was goaltending for the Minnesota Wild. I hadn’t hung with him since the All Star break, but more importantly, I wanted him to know Georgia. I wanted him to meet this girl who’d turned my world on its head in ways I couldn’t even describe yet.

  So I waited, more than a little tense, and when that pretty smile poked through I grabbed her face and kissed her again. I couldn’t help myself.

  “Okay,” she said slowly. “But I have to go home and take care of a few things first.” She cocked an eyebrow. “What time is T-off?”

  “Jason made it for two o’clock at some place called The Greens.”

  “Good. That gives us enough time.” Her voice hit a sexy low note and I couldn’t help but think that this girl was going to kill me.

  “Time for what?” I asked roughly, my heart speeding like a fucking freight train as she slid off my lap and onto her knees.

  She reached for my boxers and pulled them down, tossing them to the side along with her T-shirt. She slid between my legs and bent forward, though she paused, her mouth near my dick and my balls in her hands.

  “It gives me time to thank you properly for giving me the most orgasms I’ve ever had in the space of twelve hours.”

  I stared down at her helplessly because for the first time I realized just how much this girl meant to me. I knew in this moment that the line we’d crossed the night before wasn’t just a line. We’d hopped over a goddamn mountain and it was one I’d never climbed before. It involved giving and taking, and I had never really been one to give. Or at the very least, I hadn’t cared about giving.

  But last night had been all about giving and I did everything in power—pulled out all the stops—to give her as much pleasure as I could. Not once did I expect anything more in return than the gift of spending the night with her.

  And now here she was, giving back, staring up at me like a goddess.

  Her lips closed over me and I groaned, sinking back into my chair. This wasn’t just about sex anymore, but, holy fuck, the sex was better than good.

  It was mind blowing.

  I closed my eyes and rode the wave and it was hours before I came down.

  Chapter Twenty

  Georgia

  Matt was gone when I got back to his loft. He’d left a note saying he was out for the day with some friends and that he’d text me later.

  I loved my brother but I was happy for some alone time so I could digest the last twenty-four hours. Because without a doubt, the last twenty-four hours had been the most intense I’d ever had. And considering the fucked up status of many of my nights in the past…that was saying something.

  Not that anything about what had just happened with Ben was fucked up. It was just the opposite. It had been crazy, tender, sensual, and light hearted. Ben Lancaster was as good in bed as he was on the ice. He was fearless and confident and all sorts of things happened inside me when he looked into my eyes.

  And it was all that stuff that had me worried. I’d never been in love before. Oh, I’d had several infatuations—some had left me bruised and wounded for weeks—but none that had left a lasting impression on me.

  I had a feeling that Ben Lancaster had just tattooed himself onto my soul and the thing about tattoos? They’re painful to remove.

  So was this love? Or was I just infatuated? How the hell was I supposed to know the difference?

  And if this was love what was I going to do about it? I knew I was no good for Ben and eventually he’d figure that out on his own. Once the hockey season started he’d be riding that damn shooting star again and there wasn’t room for me on it.

  Fresh out of the shower, I scrubbed at the mist on the mirror and stared at my reflection. My eyes glistened and a flush stained my cheeks, one that wasn’t from the hot water either. I looked good. I looked healthy and happy and…

  “Oh, Georgia. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” I groaned.

  I heard my cell phone ding and scooped it up from the table beside my bed. It was Kendall.

  ‘what the fuck, G. where are u’

  I smiled. Leave it to Kendall to get right to the point in style. I scrolled through my messages and noticed that she’d sent more than a dozen texts. I paused and then answered.

  ‘going on a date’

  She answered before I had time to grab clean underwear.

  ‘date? With hockey boy?’

  ‘yep’

  ‘u guys fuck yet?’

  ‘u have no class’

  ‘so u have?’

  I shook my head and laughed. God, she was persistent. ‘yep’

  ‘does he have a big stick?’

  ‘u r an idiot.’

  ‘I know. Glad u r getting some’

  I snorted and slipped into my bra. ‘ttyl’

  ‘I want deets 4 sure’, and then one last text, ‘about his big stick’

  I tossed my cell and perused my closet, settling a black sleeveless golf shirt and a pair of black shorts that were a tad too short for golf, but whatever. My family had been members of The Greens golf club since I was a little kid and though I hadn’t golfed in a few years, my clubs were still there and as far as I knew, our membership was still valid.

  The Kings had poured a shitload of money into the place and I doubted they’d have a problem with the length of my shorts. I turned around so I could see my butt from behind and shrugged. It’s not as if my cheeks were hanging out.

  I pulled my hair into a one-sided low ponytail, threw on some gloss and mascara and then grabbed my meds out of the top drawer of my dresser.

  I stared at them for a few moments, that familiar feeling of resentment washing over me.

  These two little bottles told the world that I was defective and I hated how that made me feel. Would I ever be able to get over the feeling that I was somehow less than anyone else? That I deserved less than say, Kendall or Joe?

  That Ben deserved someone better than me?

  With a sigh I popped my lithium and after a few moments popped a klonopin as well. What the hell. I may as well stick to the program.

  After washing them down with a swig of water, I stuffed them back in my underwear drawer, grabbed my purse and headed for the lobby. It was just after one and Ben was due to pick me up any minute.

  He was waiting for me near the front desk chatting with Joe and glanced up just as I exited the elevator. Seeing him was like a punch to the gut and when a slow, sexy smile drifted over his face heat curled in my stomach.

  I think I stumbled a bit, in fact I’m sure I did, and when he nodded to Joe and headed toward me, something pressed into my chest. Something heavy and scary and it took my breath away.

  Ben Lancaster did that to me with just one look.

  He didn’t stop until his lips were on my mouth, his hands around my waist. The kiss was slow and lingering, his tongue lazy, meticulous. I folded like a house of cards and melted into
him like a marshmallow.

  “I missed you,” he said into my mouth.

  I bit his bottom lip and smiled, enjoying the way his hands moved down my back until he cupped my butt possessively. “It’s only been a few hours.”

  “I know.”

  We stared at each other in silent understanding because I felt exactly the same way. Fingering the collar of his oat colored shirt, I splayed my fingers near the base of his neck. “Do we have to go? Matt’s gone for the day so the loft is empty.”

  “Is it?” he said softly.

  I nodded. “We could hang out and watch movies.”

  “Hang out,” he said with a grin.

  Again I nodded, pushing my hips into him. “Yeah, and watch movies.”

  “Or we can go play a round of golf with Jason and his girlfriend and then go back to my place where I’ll,” he bent low and shivers exploded over my skin when his warm breath hit my neck. “Make sure you’ll have a good time.”

  “A naked good time?”

  “A naked good time,” he answered with a low growl.

  “Promise?”

  He dropped a kiss on my mouth and grabbed my hand. “Promise.”

  Our afternoon of golf wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be. First off, Ben’s buddy, Jason was a nice guy and his girlfriend, Cherry (the name was real, I asked) while on the quiet side wasn’t bitchy, or stuck up. She wasn’t a groupie who’d snagged an athlete—she was the real deal.

  Cherry and Jason had dated through high school and managed to stay together during his college years and then his draft to Minnesota. She was a Southern girl and though she wasn’t fussy about living in St. Paul, she loved her guy and the sacrifice was worth it.

  We played 18 holes of golf and then spent a few hours in the clubhouse, drinking (them, not me) and eating. Everyone was relaxed and happy and I couldn’t remember feeling this content in a long time.

  Every so often Ben’s hand would caress the back of my neck, or whisper along my bare thigh. He’d even tried edging up my shirt but I shut that down right away. I’d caught a few members staring and though the old Georgia would have been more than happy to snub her nose at their stuffiness, the new Georgia cared about that shit.

  I was on my way back to the table from the bathroom when a hand snaked out and caught my shoulder, spinning me around so fast I nearly fell on my ass.

  “What the…”

  Brilliant blue eyes stared down at me from beneath midnight black floppy bangs, and an otherwise shaved head.

  “Jesus fuck, Georgia King! Who the hell let you out of the loony bin?”

  A wide smile on a handsome face that was framed by more than a few piercings, including nose and lip rings, bent toward me. His neck that was shrouded in tattoos that matched the intricate ink on his forearms.

  Travis Barlett.

  Travis Barlett, a guy whose father owned half the county and a guy who had more money than anyone I knew. Probably more money than God.

  Travis Barlett, the guitarist in Spleen.

  Travis Barlett, the guy I’d been fucking on and off ever since I’d given him my virginity when I was fifteen.

  Shit.

  He and I had been a lethal combination back in the day and I didn’t want him anywhere near Ben. He was bad news and no doubt was still living in the place I never wanted to visit again.

  “Hey,” I said frostily, not wanting to give him any ideas. “I’m surprised they let you in here. I thought you were banned after they caught you pissing in the fountain.”

  He shrugged, a huge grin on his face. “My dad owns half of this dump so they can’t really keep me out.”

  Right. Of course.

  He leaned closer and I had to tilt my head in an effort to avoid connecting with his mouth. “You’re looking good for someone who pulled a fucking boner and nearly did herself in. What the hell was up with that?”

  He grabbed my wrist and though I tried to yank away from him I couldn’t. He was too big and too strong and his thumb rolled my skin as his grin widened.

  “Damn, Georgia, I’m glad you didn’t check out. That would have been a fucking shame you know?”

  I scowled until he let me go. “What do you care, Travis?”

  “I care because you’re probably the best piece of ass I’ve ever had and it would be a shame if I couldn’t dip my finger into your honey pot now and again.”

  “Really? And that’s why I caught you screwing Rachel Nagel behind the stage after your show the last time we were together?”

  Just thinking of that night pissed me off. I’d left the club, ended up wasted, high, and in bed with two guys I’d never met before.

  He tried to swoop in for a kiss but I sidestepped and glared at him.

  “Don’t get your panties in a knot. It’s not like we were ever exclusive and besides, you fucked around on me all the time.”

  I hated that he was right.

  I sighed and shrugged. “Whatever, Travis. I gotta run.”

  He nodded toward the dining room. “Is that Ben Lancaster you’re with?”

  My stomach flipped and the food I’d ingested earlier settled like a lump of stone.

  “What’s it to you?” I asked, more harshly than I’d intended. But there was fear inside me. Fear that my old world was about to collide with my new one and there was no way in hell I wanted Travis and Ben to meet.

  He grinned because he knew what was going on in my head, and I envisioned my fist meeting his nose.

  “Maybe I want his autograph?”

  “Maybe you’re full of shit,” I muttered and turned away from him.

  I took a step but paused when I heard him chuckle. “And maybe you’re full of stupid. I know all about Lancaster and he’s way out of your league, King. Besides, deep down you’re a nasty girl, so when you get tired of that vanilla shit you know where to find me.”

  I marched across the dining room and waited by the table, tapping my foot while Ben looked after the bill. Cherry and Jason had already left and it was just the two of us. I refused to look over my shoulder but I can’t lie, I was terrified that Travis was going to stroll over like he owned the place—which he did—and get in my face.

  I was terrified that Ben would glimpse a little of what the old me had been like because I was pretty damn sure the old me would have sent him running the day we’d met. And even though I knew how this little story was going to end, I wasn’t ready to give him up. Not yet anyway.

  “Ready?” Ben’s hands ran along the back of my neck and I nodded.

  “Let’s get out of here.” I tugged on his hand.

  “In a hurry?” he teased.

  “What?” I was leading him through the dining room like we were marching to class and I groaned inwardly at the weird look he tossed my way. But he didn’t say anything else and we made it back to his truck without any Travis sightings.

  It wasn’t until we cleared the parking lot that I relaxed and I leaned back in my seat. I stared ahead, afraid to look in his direction—afraid he’d sense my fear.

  I pulled gloss out of my purse and rolled it through my fingers, chewing on my bottom lip as I pondered how Travis had managed to spread his toxicity onto me in a short little conversation. And then I wondered how I’d ever endured him before.

  What the hell had I been thinking?

  “So,” Ben said slowly, his eyes on the road as we pulled out of the parking lot. “Who was that guy back there?”

  Shit. Fuck. And piss.

  “Just a guy,” I answered carefully.

  Ben fiddled with the cd player until the Foo’s were thumping and then said casually. “He looked like more than just a guy to me.”

  Ben’s tone was light but I got that he was interested. I got that maybe he was a little concerned or even jealous. I’m sure Travis and I looked intense while we were ‘chatting’ and Travis might be an asshole of the highest order, but the guy had charisma, looks, and fake charm coming out of his butt like shards of sunshine.

 
I couldn’t lie to Ben—that had never been my thing—but I could leave out a few details. Like the fuck buddy aspect of our relationship or the fact that Travis and I used to do lines together like we were running a race, and that vodka & Redbull was our drink of choice.

  “I’ve known Travis for a long time and we dated for a while, but it was never serious.”

  I chanced a peek at Ben, but he was looking ahead.

  “Okay,” he said softly. “For a moment I thought that maybe Matt was trying to be the good guy you know?”

  Okay.

  “What do you mean?” I asked moving closer to him, wanting to touch him and I swear if he wasn’t driving right now I would have crawled onto his lap and kissed him until his head spun. Until my head spun. Until we were naked and his hot skin warmed up my cold flesh.

  He shrugged. “I thought that maybe the guy was this mysterious Seamus you don’t seem to want to talk about.”

  He turned to me for a second, his eyes glittery—electric—and then he looked out at the road again. I felt him touch me somewhere deep inside.

  “No,” I murmured, unbuckling my seatbelt so I could inch closer. The band across my chest tightened. “He’s so not, Seamus. Travis is a mess. He’s just someone I used to know.”

  I paused, a rush of adrenaline running through me and before I could stop myself, words fell from my lips. Words I didn’t mean to say. Words that could change everything.

  “Seamus is my therapist.”

  I held my breath, everything inside me tight and wound up like a spring about to burst. I swear those pieces inside me—the ones held together by duct tape and lithium—were beginning to move, to jar against each other like the plates beneath the continents. Shifting. Displacing. Breaking.

  It was a weird sensation and I hated it. I hated the stress and fear in my throat. I hated the pills at home in my drawer.

  I hated my illness. I hated that it was unpredictable.

  And I really hated that my mom had been sick just like I was and she’d ended up at the bottom of a lake, taking my father and his restored Aston Martin along for the ride.