Beneath the Stands: An Enemies to Lovers, Best Friend's Brother Romance (Sugarlake Series, Book Two)

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Beneath the Stands: An Enemies to Lovers, Best Friend's Brother Romance (Sugarlake Series, Book Two) Page 12

by Emily McIntire


  Kisses trail down my neck while he strips off my clothes. He crouches, his touch burning a path for his tongue to follow.

  My hands grasp his hair, trying to push his face into me. “Lick it, Eli. Please.”

  “So damn pretty when you beg,” he growls.

  His tongue swipes out, circling my clit, frissons of electricity sparking through my core and down my thighs. His fingers double their efforts, maintaining a steady rhythm that compliments his mouth. I tighten my grip around the strands of his hair, legs shaking from the effort to stay standing.

  My nerves coil tight, making my breath catch in my throat.

  Suddenly, he stops.

  “Wha–what… why,” I pant. My hands try to push his head back into me, desperate for release.

  Leaving his fingers as deep as they’ll go inside me, he slowly stands until his towering form dwarfs me in his shadow. He leans in, his breath hot against my ear.

  “Admit you were jealous.” His voice is a deep rumble.

  My stomach flips.

  He curls his fingers and pumps them once, his palm grazing my throbbing clit.

  My body burns in its need, but I bite my lips to keep from saying the words.

  “Three little words, Rebecca, and I’ll make you come so hard you can’t think.” His fingers press deeper.

  I moan, my eyes rolling back.

  He moves, starting to retreat from my body, but my hands wrap around his wrist, holding him inside me. He chuckles, palming the back of my neck, leaning in and trailing his tongue from my throat to my ear.

  My body trembles against him.

  “Give me what I want, baby girl, and I’ll give you what you need.”

  I blow out a breath as his head moves back, our eyes locking.

  “I was jealous,” I whisper.

  His face blooms into a blinding smile. “I know.”

  It’s a simple flick of his thumb, and I shatter into a thousand pieces around him, shockwaves of pleasure rippling through my body. My walls tense and release until I black out from the sensation.

  I collapse against him, my breath coming in pants and my brain in a fog. He cradles me in his arms, his big hand smoothing down my curls and bringing me in tighter.

  “Never be afraid to tell me how you feel, Becca.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll always be here to catch you in the end.”

  My chest swells with warmth, and I smile up at him. His eyes are deep and crystal blue, begging my heart to surrender. And I almost do. But a flash of strawberry-blonde in his arms, and the whisper of Momma’s words make me pause.

  All men are liars.

  Reality crashes through my body, my soul free falling to the floor.

  It’s a long drop, reminding me of how bad things can break when they land.

  Love is a fairy tale, and fairy tales don’t exist.

  26

  Becca

  Three weeks. Twenty-one days. Five-hundred and four hours. That’s how long it’s been since I found out Sabrina wasn’t staying in Florida, throwing all of my carefully laid plans out the window.

  I haven’t figured anything out. I haven’t told anyone, either. I don’t need them trying to swoop in and solve my problems, and it will be a dark day in Hell before I admit to Papa I’m not sure I can hack it on my own.

  I’ll figure somethin’ out.

  But whatever it is, I need to figure it out quick because my folks get in town this weekend for graduation. I envisioned the joy I’d feel watching defeat settle into Papa’s eyes when he realized I have all my ducks in a row. Now, the reality is bleak. No jobs, even though I’ve been looking. No renewal of a lease. No money even if I wanted to renew it. And absolutely no sense of direction. In fact, the only thing that does feel right is being with Eli, which is another issue in itself because I promised myself a long time ago I’d never depend on a man to make me happy. It only leads to disappointment in the end.

  “What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Jeremy asks.

  I peek at him from the couch. He’s inhaling two foot-long subs like it’s his last meal.

  “You gonna take a breath between bites? You’re lucky you’re not chokin’ to death.”

  He sets down his sub, wiping a speck of mayo from the corner of his mouth, and points at me. “Don’t change the subject. You’re mopey, and I want to know why.”

  I bite my lip, my fingers reaching up to tug on my split ends. “I’m not a robot, Jer. I’m allowed to feel different emotions. Sorry I’m not as peppy and carefree as you like.”

  “Quit deflecting.”

  Irritation spreads through my chest. My hands fly to my hips. “And what about you, huh? You’re the one pullin’ a disappearin’ act for the last semester. You don’t see me over here askin’ about your whereabouts. So leave my ‘mopey’ alone.”

  He props his chin on his hand, a grin pulling at his cheeks. “You done?”

  “Maybe.” I cross my arms. “What are you smilin’ about?”

  “You. You’re so obvious. And I’m not as dumb as I look.”

  My stomach jumps. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you and Elliot Carson are shit at hiding the fuck me eyes you give each other. You’re also terrible at sneaking into his hotel room when we’re on the road. You’re lucky it was me that saw you and not someone else.”

  I groan, my palms rubbing my eyes. “Shit.”

  “Yeah. Shit.” Jeremy sits next to me, grabbing a hand from my face and linking our fingers.

  “Talk to me, girl. And also, tell me the dirty details. That man is F-I-N-E.”

  The tangle in my chest loosens now that he knows, and a weight I didn’t realize was pressing down lifts from my shoulders. “There’s not much to tell. We shouldn’t be a thing, but somehow… it happened. And I can’t seem to stop, no matter how much I try.”

  His brows furrow. “Why should you? You two aren’t hurting anybody. In fact, you’ve been a hell of a lot more amicable. I think he must be fucking the sass right out of you.”

  His grin fades when he sees I’m not laughing. “Oh, hell. He really is a sex god, isn’t he?”

  I lean back against the couch, sighing. “He really is.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “It’s just… complicated. He’s faculty. I’m a student.”

  Jeremy rolls his eyes. “For like two more days. Next issue, please.”

  “He’s Lee’s brother.”

  “And you think she’d care?”

  I chew on my lip as I ponder his question because the truth is, I’m not sure if she would.

  “It just feels… disloyal. You know, we had a friend growin’ up, Lily.” I pause, swallowing down the anxiety that gnaws on my insides whenever I think too long about Lily. She fell into a bad way when we were in high school and ran away, leaving everyone and everything behind. Thinking about her for too long is just another glaring reminder that everyone falls off the pedestal they’re placed on eventually. “She had this absolute dick of a brother. Lee fell hard for him, and Lily didn’t take too kindly to it. At all. Totally ruined their friendship. It makes me sick to think of the same thing happenin’ to us.”

  Jeremy sighs, rubbing his palms down his jean-clad thighs. “Seems to me like she’d understand, since she’s been in your position.”

  My nose scrunches. I hadn’t thought of it that way.

  “Is it just sex?”

  My heart skips at his question. I don’t want to put a label on my feelings for Eli. If I say it, then it’s real. “It’s not just sex,” I mumble.

  His arms lift to the sides. “Then what’s the real issue here, Becca? Because your excuses are weak as hell.”

  “What makes you think there’s an issue? Things are fine. Easy. They’ll probably fizzle out once summer starts, anyway.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  No. “I don’t mind it either way.”

  Jeremy’s phone vibrates on the coffee table and he sigh
s, picking it up to look at the screen. He types out a text and sets it back down, his gaze swinging back to me.

  “Look, I’m gonna say this, and then I’m gonna go.” His fingers tap on the top of his knee. “You asked where I’ve been.”

  I nod.

  “I met someone. Someone I’d—” He runs his hand through his hair, exhaling heavily. “Someone I’d be willing to risk everything for.”

  I gasp, my hand reaching out to grip his. “Holy shit, Jer. That’s amazin’, who is it?”

  He shakes his head. “I won’t tell you that. He doesn’t want anyone to know. Won’t even admit it to himself, other than the times he’s in my bed. Which I guess I can’t blame him for.” His lips twist. “But I’ll tell you this, Becca. That feeling? The one where someone holds themselves back, even though you’re giving them everything you are? That feeling fucking sucks. It’s a disease. It sneaks in undetected and attaches to your cells, siphoning all the joy, and all the love, until you’re a worthless shell.” He smacks his chest. “Until you start to hate yourself, because how could you love someone who doesn’t want to love you back?”

  His voice cracks, and he rubs a hand over his mouth, tears teasing his lower lids. “Don’t be the reason that man loses his heart. Not unless you plan to keep it safe.”

  My throat tightens painfully around the sudden knot. I’m biting my cheek so hard I taste blood.

  Jeremy cups my face in his hands, kissing my forehead. “You hear me, Becca? You’re better than that. Either be all in or let him go.”

  Sucking in a stuttered breath, I nod.

  Jeremy leaves a few minutes later, but the heaviness of our conversation lingers.

  I don’t want to be Eli’s disease.

  The next morning, my chest is tight—the weight of responsibility pushing down in a way I didn’t know it could. I’ve taken Jeremy’s words to heart. Slept on them, dreamed of them and woke up with a new outlook.

  I’m going to try.

  I’m all in.

  The decision makes me antsy, impatience thrumming in my thoughts, wondering when I’ll be able to see Eli again. I’m headed to Coach Andrews’s office to pick up my final paycheck, and I’m hoping I run into him there.

  I knock on the office door, a melancholy vibe weaving its way through my chest at the knowledge that after today, I won’t be here anymore. I’ve grown to love the atmosphere, the people and even the game itself. It’s sad knowing I won’t have it at my fingertips in the same way.

  “It’s open.”

  I turn the knob, walking in and almost tripping over my heels. Coach is behind his desk, a remote in his hand pointed at the projection screen. Eli is perched on the corner of the desk, and there’s a flash of strawberry-blonde in my peripheral.

  Great.

  “Hi, y’all.” I wave.

  Eli smirks at me, fire flashing through his eyes as he stares, unashamed. The heat from his gaze races across the room and slams into my cheeks, singeing them pink.

  “Becca, good to see you. Miss you around here.” Coach smiles.

  I clear my throat, focusing in on Coach. “I miss it too. Hope I’m not interruptin’ anything. I didn’t know when the best time to come by would be.”

  I glance at the woman sitting to the side and do a double-take. When she was busy rubbing against my man, I only saw her back, so this is the first chance I’ve had to take her in fully. She’s beautiful. And familiar. My eyes narrow as I try to place her.

  “You’re never an interruption,” Eli’s voice pipes in.

  I look toward him, smiling. He winks and my core clenches.

  “Alright.” I nod, turning back to the woman. She’s nagging at my brain.

  “Do I know you from somewhere?” I can’t help myself, it’ll drive me crazy if I don’t find out.

  Her frown pulls down the corner of her eyes. “I don’t think so. I’m Sarah.”

  “Huh. You just look so familiar, is all.” I tap my heel on the ground and shrug. “No matter.”

  I graze my body on Eli’s arm as I walk by, reaching to grab the check from Coach’s hands. My nipples pebble against my shirt at the touch, and I feel Eli’s arm tense.

  “It’s been a pleasure, y’all.”

  “You did good this year, Becca. You love the game yet?” Coach leans back in his chair.

  Eli’s eyes twinkle as he straightens off the edge of the desk. “I think she loves everything about it.”

  I smirk. “Keep dreamin’, big head.”

  He chuckles.

  With one last wave, I swing around, walking out of Coach’s office for the last time.

  It’s not until I’m driving home that I remember Sarah’s the girl from the bar. My solar plexus sours with jealousy, my knuckles turning white from my grip on the steering wheel. Eli didn’t tell me that. I blow out a breath, attempting to talk myself down. Believe in my man.

  But faith, once lost, is hard to find.

  27

  Eli

  “Elliot Carson, what on Earth are you doin’ here?”

  I’m frozen, my fist wrapped around the knob of Becca’s front door. I came over to wish her congratulations before her graduation ceremony. She said it was safe, that Sabrina was out with her parents, so no one else was there. Clearly, it was a stupid idea. That fact is being pile driven into my brain right now, since I’m staring into the eyes of Becca’s father.

  Preacher Sanger.

  I clear my throat, unclenching from around the handle and straightening. “Preacher Sanger. It’s good to see you, sir.”

  “It’s bewilderin’ to see you. I’m gonna ask you again, what are you doin’ in the apartment I pay for?”

  My brows dip because I’m pretty certain he doesn’t pay for shit.

  What the hell is he talking about?

  “You didn’t know? I coach at FCU. I was dropping by to wish Becca congratulations, on behalf of my little sister, since she couldn’t be here in person.”

  My mouth waters from the bitter taste of the lie.

  “Coachin’, huh? Not quite the bright lights and fame you expected, is it boy?” He chuckles, smacking me on the back as he moves to walk inside. Becca’s mom trails behind him, stopping in front of me and grasping my jaw in her hands.

  “Elliot Carson.” Her voice is low, and she glances toward her husband. “Who knew we’d find the towns’ pride and joy hidin’ away in our daughter’s apartment.”

  She holds my gaze, her eyes flickering as they stare into mine.

  “Momma, Papa, what are you two doin’ here?” Becca’s voice cuts through the tension as she walks into the living room.

  Her father scoffs. “We’re here to see you, of course.”

  “I thought I was meetin’ y’all at the hotel.” Becca fidgets, her eyes peeking at me before locking on to her mom’s.

  “Hi, Momma.”

  “Rebecca Jean. Is that what you’re wearin’?”

  My jaw tics at the way they haven’t even embraced their daughter. Haven’t said congratulations, haven’t even smiled. Graduation is supposed to be a celebration, but the room is drenched in obligation.

  Becca runs her hands over her tight, black dress. Personally, I think it looks fucking sexy, but no one has asked for my opinion. I’m not even sure why I’m still standing here, but I can’t bring myself to leave when it feels like Becca needs someone on her side.

  “Momma, please,” she sighs. “You won’t be able to see it under the god awful gown we all have to wear.”

  “Well, thank goodness for small miracles.” Her mom brushes away a curl from her face. “And you should know better than to take the Lord’s name in vain.”

  “This is exactly the reason why you need to come back home,” Preacher Sanger pipes in. “Too much freedom makes your tongue loose and your morals shaky, Rebecca.”

  “I think you look great.” The words slip out before I can drag them back in.

  All three of them shift their bodies toward me. Becca’s eyes are wide. Preach
er Sanger wears a frown, and Mrs. Sanger… her gaze is busy bouncing back and forth between Becca and me, her lips pinching more with each pass.

  “Can we not talk about this right now?” Becca crosses her arms, defiance locking her jaw tight.

  “We’ll talk about whatever we want in the apartment I pay for,” Preacher Sanger states.

  Becca’s posture straightens. “You haven’t paid for a damn thing. Or did you forget that you wrote me off for wantin’ to live my life?”

  He chuckles, brushing the nonexistent lint off his suit jacket. “You really think your meager joke of a paycheck was coverin’ all your expenses?”

  My stomach drops with the dread that’s settling on top of it.

  Becca’s eyebrows pull in. “Well, I… I mean…”

  I’m not used to seeing her unsure in her words, and I don’t like it. Part of me wonders if this is how it’s always been between them—the oppressive nature of her father slumping her shoulders and dousing her fire.

  My body burns with the need to reassure her of her strength.

  “What are you talkin’ about?” she finally manages. “I put everything I make directly into Sabrina’s hands every month.”

  He nods, his brow rising. “And where do you think she gets the rest of it?”

  Becca’s hand pulls at one of her curls. “No, I… the rest of what?”

  “A measly five-hundred dollars isn’t enough to pay for the bed you sleep in, let alone everything that comes with it.”

  My stomach rolls. Why didn’t she tell me she needed money?

  Becca’s lower lip trembles as she shakes her head. “Sabrina wouldn’t take money from you without tellin’ me.”

  Mrs. Sanger sighs, walking over and patting Becca’s arm. “Oh, honey. When will you learn that people aren’t always who you expect them to be?”

  Becca’s cheeks redden. I watch as realization filters into the irises of her eyes, whipping around and lighting them ablaze.

 

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