Her eyes narrow, cheeks flushing as she purses her lips. My stomach flips, excitement rushing through me at the re-emergence of my little spitfire. I was worried she wouldn’t come back out to play.
“Not my business? You are such a prick. Let me tell you somethin’, asshole. I’m the one who held your sister up day after day when she couldn’t do it herself. She didn’t have anyone there, Eli. No one except me and Jax.”
My forehead creases. “Is Jax that kid who lived behind us?”
“The one and only.” She pauses. “Truly, he’s a better friend to her than I am, and you best believe that’s a bitch for me to admit.”
“I doubt that’s true.” I can’t imagine someone more loyal than Becca.
“No, it is.” She waves me off. “But he’s stupid in love with her, and while I love your sister, I don’t want to spend my life eatin’ at her buffet.”
I choke on my Coke, coughing while I try to stop my laughter.
She grins, shaking her head. “But it doesn’t matter whether she had a thousand mes or a thousand Jaxs. She needed you there. She still does.”
I rub the back of my neck, her words muddling up my perception of my baby sister. I don’t feel needed. Never have. The only thing Lee talks about is Pops and how I need to help him, but whenever I try to dig deeper, Pops assures me it’s just Lee struggling with the loss of Ma. That she’s projecting her worries onto him.
I love my sister, but I’m more inclined to believe Pops.
“I don’t wanna go back there, Becca. I don’t think I can,” I whisper, my voice raspy.
The line in between Becca’s eyes deepens as she studies my face.
I wish she’d stop looking at me like that.
After a few moments, she runs her hand through her hair, blowing out a breath. “I get it... not wantin’ to be in Sugarlake.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. It’s what Momma was screamin’ at me for today, actually.”
Surprise trickles through my system. “You don’t wanna be in Sugarlake?”
She huffs out a laugh. “Hell no. That town judges you quicker than a duck on a june bug.”
“No shit.” I chuckle.
I catch her eyes with mine. There’s a softness there I’ve never noticed—or maybe it’s never been directed my way—but now, it’s hard not to get lost in its warmth. I clear my throat, glancing at my plate. “Thank you. For just… getting it. I don’t think anyone ever has before.”
She tugs on that curly hair, twirling it around her fingers. My heart bangs against my chest, my leg bouncing to its rhythm under the table. The air swirls and changes, appreciation for her words and my attraction mixing until I swear it can reach out and touch her.
She exhales and drops her gaze. “Yeah… well, I still think you’re a pussy for not mannin’ up and goin’ back.”
I smile, stretching my arm against the back of the booth. “Well, you know what they say.”
Her brow lifts. “What do they say?”
“You are what you eat.”
10
Becca
I’m running late to meet Eli. Ever since he razzed me on the first day about cutting it close, I’ve made it my mission to show up before him, but last night I stayed up finishing a twenty-page paper that I procrastinated. So between that and my brain dissecting the “lunch date” from yesterday, I didn’t get much sleep.
I saw a different side of Eli at that diner. My loyalty has always—and will always—be with Lee, but I guess I never realized how things might have been for him back home. And now that I’ve started thinking about it, I can’t stop.
The longer it rolls around in my brain, the more frustrated I get, my heart twinging at the fact I can’t remember Lee ever talking about how Eli handled their momma’s death, or how he was dealing with not playing ball.
I have to wonder if she even knows, or if she’s been so lost in her misery that she never asked.
But someone ought to.
I saw the shadow of the ghost that haunts him. It causes an odd sensation in my chest, seeing him look so lost—a familiarity that fills the space between us, one that makes me want to dive inside his darkness and find the cracks of light.
And then I snap myself the hell out of it because I don’t want anything to do with Elliot Carson. The lack of sleep has clearly gone to my head. I will steel myself against whatever is malfunctioning in my body and brain when it comes to him.
I’ll find myself a big, fat dick to ride this weekend and I’ll fuck the thought of him away.
I walk into the arena with a new resolve, but all of that goes to complete shit when I drink in the scene in front of me. Eli’s shooting hoops, and he’s shirtless. Honest to God, he’s not wearing a stitch of clothing other than his basketball shorts and shoes. There’s nothing but the sound of his sneakers and the bounce of the ball.
Just him, the free-throw line and the focus of his craft.
My brain short-circuits, heart pumping blood so fast my body can’t keep up. I put my hand on the concrete wall to keep upright. A light sheen of sweat glistens over his chest and abs, making him look ethereal under the fluorescent lights. He’s clearly been practicing a while.
I stand stock still, my eyes devouring every line of his body, the control in his stance, the precision in his movement. It’s a thing of beauty. He’s a thing of beauty. My bag slips from my shoulder and drops to the ground, the sound harsh against the quiet of the air. Eli spins toward the noise, his posture relaxing once he sees me.
“Hey, figured I’d warm up while I waited.” He runs his fingers through his hair, his abs flexing with the movement.
I’d respond, but my mouth is suddenly parched and I’m afraid my voice won’t work.
His smile slowly drops while I stand there gaping. His eyes darken, the current of our energies dancing off each other, making the air grow heady.
I clear my throat, trying to snap out of it. “Yep. Hi. Sorry I’m late. I overslept.”
He smiles and fuck the butterflies in my stomach for daring to flutter from his grin.
“What are we doin’ today?”
He waves his arm at the cart of basketballs and the few stragglers on the floor. “Take a guess.”
“Hmm. You decide you want me on your team after all?” My mouth curls up.
He smirks, bouncing a basketball between his legs. “Baby girl, you’ve been on my team since you walked on this court. I’ve just had you benched.”
My eyes narrow even though my stomach flips at his words. I stretch my arms above my head, cracking my neck. I don’t miss how his eyes follow the hem of my shirt as it rises, or how his Adam’s apple bobs with his swallow.
I grin, my hands going to my hips. “Put me in, Coach.”
“I seem to remember that gigantic head of yours going on about HORSE. Let’s see what ya got, big talker.” He tosses the basketball toward my chest, making my breath whoosh out of me when I catch it.
And so we play.
I throw from about two feet away and squeal when it goes in.
He easily mimics the move.
He shoots from the free-throw line, jogging backward after he makes it. “Nothin’ but net, baby.”
“Kobe!” I yell, attempting the same shot. The ball bounces off the rim and rolls to Eli’s feet. He’s keeled over laughing as he picks it up. I flip him off.
He does some fancy move where he runs up to the rim and jumps, twisting his body to toss the ball through the net with one hand.
I scoff. “Hardly fair. I barely know how to shoot. You’re just showin’ off now.”
He chuckles and swaggers over, placing the ball in my hands and walking around until he’s behind me. He’s so close I feel the tingles of electricity radiating off his body as they snap at my back. I grip the ball tighter.
“First...” His fingers thread through my curls as he angles my face toward the rim. “You need to eye the target.” He pulls slightly before releasing the strands, causing a shiver to race dow
n my spine. His rough hands ghost over my sides, goose bumps sprouting as his fingers grip my hips. He adjusts me, squeezing once, and continues his trek.
My legs tremble and I bite my lip to keep from moaning at his touch.
“Next, you need to have an open stance.” He kneels behind me, his palms sliding along the inside of my thighs until he reaches my knees, pushing them open. The light caress of his fingertips on my bare skin sends a tendril of arousal spiraling through my body, heating me from the inside and making my cheeks flush.
“Point your feet toward the left side of the basket.”
I angle them. “Like this?” I ask, breathlessly.
He raises back up, his breath blowing on my neck as he leans in close. “Perfect.” His voice is raspy and low. I suck in a breath.
His palms glide over my shoulders and down my arms until his big hands dwarf my small ones. I’m transfixed at the sight of them contrasting against the basketball’s leather.
“Now this part is the most important. Are you payin’ attention?”
His accent slips through, making my stomach tighten. I nod, the back of my head rubbing against his slick chest.
“Move the ball into the shot pocket.” He moves our arms until the ball is situated several inches above my waist and aiming directly at the basket. I’m panting, my breasts heaving from the inability to catch my breath.
His fingers weave through mine, manipulating them until they’re positioned the way he wants. He lifts our arms until they’re raised level to my head. “Hand positioning is important.”
His palms disappear and my fingers twitch at the loss. But soon enough they’re back, one pressing into my stomach, while the other rests on my right arm. “Make sure you use your legs, core, and arm strength to shoot.” He pushes into me and propels us forward. The heat of his body wraps around me and my ass pushes into his very prominent, stiff erection.
Oh my God.
I blow out a heavy breath, afraid that if I move an inch—a fucking centimeter—that my control will snap and I’ll maul him right here in the middle of the court.
His hand leaves my stomach, moving up my body until it rests on my left arm.
“Now shoot.” His whisper tickles my ear, shockwaves rippling through me. My body obeys his command before my mind can even process what he said. I let the ball fly and it swooshes through the net.
I don’t even care. I twist my upper body in his arms, my eyes clashing with baby blues.
It’s a second...
Two seconds...
Before I can take another breath, Eli’s lips are on mine, his tongue ravaging my mouth. Our breaths meld and I moan at his taste. My hand tangles in his hair, his thick bulge pushing into me from behind. My panties are soaked through, my body vibrating from how bad I want to feel him plunging inside me. I’m lost. In his taste. His smell. His aura. In everything that is Elliot Carson.
Elliot Carson.
I jerk away, lips burning and heart screaming in protest.
What the hell am I doin’?
“Becca.” Eli’s voice is cautious, his arms still outstretched.
I shake my head, fingers touching my swollen lips. “No. No. That did not just happen.”
Eli’s arms drop along with his head, his jaw clenching. “Shit. You’re right. That shouldn’t have happened.”
“Ya think, genius? What the hell were you thinkin’?”
“What was I thinking? You kissed me.”
I huff out a laugh, my arms waving wildly. “Oh, please. You seduced me with your... your basketball voodoo.”
He stares at me, his mouth twitching. “Basketball voodoo?”
I groan, my hands wrenching my roots. “You know what I mean. This—” I point between us. “Can’t happen.”
“I agree.”
“For so many reasons. You’re the damn coach of the basketball team. Your sister is my best friend, for God’s sake. This cannot happen. I just...”
Eli’s in front of me now, his hand pushing against my lips. “Christ, do you ever listen? I said I agree.”
“Oh,” I mumble against his fingers.
He smirks. “Yeah. Oh.”
Relief floods through my veins, even as my heart twinges at the thought of it never happening again.
That kiss was a mistake. One that we will not be repeating ever again.
But damn, it was a great one.
11
Becca
Hours later and I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. I’m usually not a fan of lip to lip action. It’s too personal, and my momentary lapse of judgment with Eli has reminded me of all the reasons I avoid it in the first place. I’m afraid the feel of his lips will be burned into mine for the rest of eternity.
But I’ll try like hell to erase it.
I grab my phone and shoot a text to Jeremy.
Me: Please, please say you’ll drop whatever you’re doing this weekend and help me find a stallion to ride. I am in desperate need of a good fuck.
Jeremy: God, your lines are corny as hell.
Me: Is that a yes?
Jeremy: What’s in it for me?
I roll my eyes.
Me: Are you seriously holding our friendship hostage right now? What kind of a dick does that?!
Jeremy: It’s a simple question.
Me: … what do you want?
His response is immediate.
Jeremy: Introduce me to Elliot Carson personally… before the season starts. And maybe get him to sign something, but don’t tell him it’s for me.
My stomach jumps to my throat when I read Eli’s name. I slam myself back on my bed, groaning.
Me: Fine.
As if the world isn’t torturing me enough, the phone rings in my hand. Lee’s name mocks me from the screen.
“Hey, girl.” I sit up as I answer.
“Hiya, stranger. How’s life in Florida?”
I swallow. I doubt you wanna know. “Huh? Oh… things are fine here. Great. How’s everything with you? Jax still actin’ like a lost puppy lappin’ up your scraps?”
She laughs. “Jax is not a lost puppy, Becca. And he’s just fine. I was with him last night until he went home with Suzy Abbott, of all people. Can you believe that? I swear, I hate her.”
“You could always just let Jax take you home, which we both know is what he really wants. Then you wouldn’t need to worry about girls like Suzy Abbott.”
Lee sighs. “You know I can’t do that.”
“And why the hell not? That boy would worship you like a goddess.”
“It would complicate things.”
“Nothin’ complicated about it, sister. Strip him down and let those mechanic hands go to work on that sweet little body of yours.”
“Jax is my friend, Becca.”
Jax is a fool for her, and he always has been. Even back when she belonged to his best friend. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for a chance to be with her, and she knows it.
I nod even though she can’t see. “Just think of how friendly he’d be with your vagina.”
She snorts. “You are so dang crass.”
“So you always tell me.” I smile. Damn, I miss her.
“You seen any more of Eli down there at that fancy school?”
My stomach rolls with her question, but my veins heat. A flash of our earlier kiss blinds me, infusing my cheeks with the flush of my guilt. “Nope. Not really. Why would I have seen him?”
I smack my forehead, squeezing my eyes. Idiot.
She blows out a breath. “I guess you wouldn’t have. But I won’t lie, the thought of you givin’ him a good tongue lashin’ is mighty appealin’.”
I choke on my inhale, eyes watering as I try to stop the burning cough.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” I rasp. I clear my throat, my hand rubbing my chest. “I’m fine.”
“Hey, maybe you can do me a favor though? Hunt him down and convince him to come home with you for Christmas?”
I purse m
y lips. “Ugh. Lee, my folks are bein’ assholes. I don’t know if I’m even comin’ home for the holidays.”
“What? What are they doin’ now?”
I sigh, not wanting to think about yet another thing that’s spiraled out of my control. Plus, if I go into it then I’ll have to tell her about my new job, and I just told her I hadn’t seen Eli. Why did I do that? My stomach sinks when I realize that I just walked myself into an extremely shitty situation. One where I can’t tell my best friend the truth about my life, all because my mouth spoke before my brain could catch up. But if I go back on it now, she’ll wonder why I lied.
Lee hates liars.
“Just the usual stuff. Wantin’ me to chain myself down to the church and pop out a hundred kids.”
She chuckles. “One day they’ll realize you’re a wild horse that can’t be tamed.”
I grin. “That’s right, girlfriend. You’re the only one who gets me.”
“Well, I don’t get why you won’t just come home. Your folks are nothin’ new. We miss you around here.”
I snort. “Lee, you’re the only one who misses me. And as much as you know me, this is one thing you just won’t understand. Sugarlake runs through your veins deep. You’re meant for that life. I’m not. Every second there feels like torture.”
She doesn’t press further, and I don’t try to explain. This is something I know she’ll never get.
I’m suddenly hit with the urge to talk to Eli... because he would.
My stomach is in my throat as I make my way to the basketball court. I had one blessed day off from having to meet with Eli, and I spent the entire time dreading having to face him again. Then I realized that I’m Becca goddamn Sanger. I do not cower in the face of a man. They kneel at my feet, not the other way around. Besides, it’s not like I want anything to happen even if it could. He’s an ocean of complication I am not interested in dipping into.
I told Jeremy to meet me here this morning so I could introduce them, even though I’d rather not. I’d say screw it and invite Sabrina this weekend instead, but she’ll scare off all my potential one-night stands when she asks their name, followed closely by whether they’re a feminist.
Beneath the Stands: An Enemies to Lovers, Best Friend's Brother Romance (Sugarlake Series, Book Two) Page 5