No Touch Zone (Saints of Love Book 2)

by Elizabeth Perry

  I had a girlfriend for a while, so of course, I spent the night with her. But since we split, and I’m talking years ago we split, I always make sure that I have a clean break. I do my deeds, and then I get the fuck out of there.

  Last night, not only did I break a promise to my best friend, but I also broke my own rules, with the only woman who could potentially shatter all of my walls.

  From the very first moment that I met Willow, I knew that I was going to have to fight to keep my distance. With her thick, dark hair, huge green eyes, and milky white skin, she looks every bit the part of the innocent woman of my fantasies. But there is a lot more to Willow than just her beauty. She’s got a smart mouth. She doesn’t take any of my shit, and she’s as down to Earth as they come.

  Plus, she’s smart. Like, really fucking smart.

  Too damn smart to be shacking up with someone like me, that’s for sure. I may have been drunk last night, but even the alcohol wasn’t enough to shield me from the feelings that circled me as I entered her body are unlike anything that I have ever felt before.

  It was hot. It was real. And I have no idea how I’m going to stop myself from letting it happen again. To hell with my deal with Wyatt. If Willow opened her mouth right now and told me that she wanted me again, he wouldn’t even be another thought in my mind. I’d be throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her right back to the bed that I first claimed her in.

  But she’s about to douse my dreams.

  “Jude.” Her voice shakes, and she pales even further. “What in the hell did we do last night?”

  We had sex three times.

  Before we even got to the bed, she was on her knees in front of me, teasing me with that sweet tongue of hers and taunting me with those plush lips. She got irritated with me during round number two when I wasn’t giving it to her hard enough, so she rolled on top and took control.

  That was the moment that I realized Willow was a bit less pure than I originally bargained for. The third time I had her, she screamed so loud for me, that I worried someone was going to call the cops. She fell asleep with me still inside of her, and then today, she woke up filled with regret.

  I figure that she doesn’t want all of the sordid details, though. So, I just shrug slightly, and nonchalantly take a sip out of the coffee cup sitting in front of me.

  “We hooked up, Willow. We were drunk.”

  “Obviously, we were drunk!” Her voice is now a shrill shriek. “I would have never done that with you sober.”

  Fucking ouch.

  “I mean, oh, God.” Her hand is shaking so much that coffee sloshes out of her mug. She sets it down on the table with a thud, before leaning forward and placing her head in her hands. “I’m going to have to get checked. You probably gave me…”

  “I’m literally right here.” My mouth sets in a thin line. “I can hear you. I don’t have any diseases. I’m clean as a whistle.”

  When she finally looks up, her eyes are filled with fury.

  “Yeah, right. I’ve seen the women that you hook up with, Jude. For fuck’s sake, I’ve heard it. I’m grossed out, ok? I’m disgusted with myself, and I’m disgusted with you. I may as well consider myself one of the whores, now. I’m literally no better than they are. I might as well put a tag on myself and get passed around at the next party.”

  “You aren’t getting passed around to anybody.” My glare meets hers. “And yeah, Willow, I’ve had some fun in my day, but that doesn’t give you the right to call me a slut and insinuate that I’m filled with diseases. I always wear protection, for your information. And I get checked every month.”

  She snorts.

  “The fact that you have to get checked every month is exactly what I’m talking about. I’m just thankful that at least you wore protection.”

  I still.

  I do always wear protection. It’s a necessity for me, for more than just STD prevention. Women out here are crazy. Most of them just want bragging rights to say that they’ve bagged a professional athlete, but there is a small group that also wants the golden paycheck. I’ve seen way too many guys in my field get caught up in some shit like that. Messing up one time, getting someone pregnant and then paying out a shitload of money for the next eighteen years. That won’t be me, so I’m always careful. But now that I think about it, I don’t exactly remember using a condom. I don’t not remember using one either, but that part of last night is a little bit blurry.

  That’s the only part that’s hard to remember, actually.

  “Why are you making that face?” As if she reads my mind, she inhales sharply.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

  “Look, I just can’t remember, alright?”

  Without anymore words spoken, she hops to her feet. “Find me a doctor, Masters. Find me one, now.”

  A little over an hour later, I’m sitting in an OBGYN office in downtown Chicago. All of the flights are still delayed indeterminably, and half of the town remains shut down due to weather. The fact that we found a clinic that would see Willow immediately and also happened to be within walking distance was nothing short of a miracle.

  It’s damn near impossible to get a cab, since most of the drivers aren’t trekking out on the roads today, the bus system is down, and no companies are willing to rent cars in the middle of a winter storm.

  But Willow didn’t let that stop her. The second the clinic said yes, she was putting on her snow boots, coat and mittens, and was moving down the sidewalk through a few feet of snow like a woman on a mission. A mission to rid her body of any reminders of me, that is.

  I’ve been sitting here, impatiently, in the waiting room for over an hour, scrolling aimlessly through my phone, and trying to take my mind off the fact that Willow was so disgusted by the idea of me, that she needed to immediately seek medical attention.

  That’s the kind of knowledge big enough to crush even an ego of my size. But I know that she has her reasons to feel like that. She’s had to witness a lot of my indiscretions firsthand.

  Her brother, Wyatt, is king of throwing parties, and I tend to be the king of hooking up at said parties. Since Willow lives with Wyatt, most of the time, she’s home while there are scantily clad ladies frolicking around the house. The part that she doesn’t know, however, is that I would have happily turned down every single one of them if I had any idea that I’d ever have a shot with her.

  Of course, I’d have to go through Wyatt to get to her, but I’ve always had a soft spot for her. One that started long before last night.

  She’s different than the women that I’m used to. She’s not impressed with the fact that I play in the NFL. She couldn’t care less how much my contract is worth. The only thing that she cares about is what’s inside. And I’ve led her to believe that the answer to that where I am concerned, is nothing.

  I’ve let her think that I enjoy all of the hook ups. That I live to party. The truth is, I’ve only gone to all of those parties so that I could see her. Now that I’ve had her, now that I’ve experienced the high that comes along with being inside of her body?

  Yeah. I’m about to become an addict, and Willow Anderson is going to be my drug of choice.

  The door flies open, and Willow rushes out.

  “All good?” Her cheeks are flushed, and she looks flustered. She hardly glances in my direction and just keeps moving towards the door.

  “Yes.” She shoves the door open, stomping her feet as her heels sink into the thick snow on the sidewalk. “I got two shots in my butt and the morning after pill. I’m all set. Now I’m hungry. I need some food in my stomach before all of those antibiotics I just took make me sick. Please find me some food, Masters.”

  Her wish is my command.

  The corners of my lips turn up as our waiter begins to set Willow’s food in front of her. When she catches me smiling, she narrows her eyes.

  “Don’t even make a joke about this food, Jude. I’m hungry.”

  “I see that.” I have a fu
ll blown smile on my face now. I’m not going to make any jokes. Honestly, the fact that Willow ordered a cheeseburger, fries, boneless wings and mozzarella sticks only adds to my list of why I adore her.

  I’m not big on dining out with women, especially women that I’ve slept with, but the few women that I have done this with would have never ordered food like this. Willow’s comfortable with me, I mean, aside from the part where we hooked up.

  I’m pretty sure she’s not comfortable with that part.

  The snow is still falling outside, and we’re still very much trapped here in this city. But I feel pretty far from trapped. In fact, sitting here, inside of this quiet restaurant with the fireplace burning behind us, I’m at complete ease. Something that isn’t common for me.

  I’ve had a rough life. I know, I know, how bad could it be for someone like me? I have a multi-million dollar football contract, my own shoe line, and enough money in the bank to buy my own country. I have a garage full of cars, beautiful women constantly throwing themselves at me, and I have people hired who do every little thing that I ask of them.

  The only problem is money can’t buy happiness. I know it’s cliché, and I’m certainly not some chump who dishes out lines like that. But this one, well, it’s true.

  I have more money than I know what to do with, but I don’t have a special person in my life to share it with. Mostly, because I’m not a relationship kind of guy, and I know that, but sometimes I think that it would be nice.

  That would require some definite work, though. I’ve got walls built securely all around me. According to one of the many therapists that I was forced to see as a child, I don’t have anyone close to me, because I don’t allow anyone in. It’s my defense mechanism, and I’m damn good at it. I can put up walls like it’s nobody’s business.

  But in a single, one night encounter, Willow has already managed to tear some of them down. Of course, she doesn’t even realize that she’s doing it, nor does she want to. She wants to continue to believe that I’m some worthless piece of shit who took advantage of her in her drunken state.

  Which I am, of course, but still. I only allowed it to happen because I too was a drunken mess. The only difference between us, is that while she regrets it, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. And I’d continue to do it from this day forward.

  Yes, I’d have to answer to Wyatt, and I very well could lose his friendship. That would tear me up, because Wyatt is one of the only people who I’ve ever let in. He’s the only person that I can truly call a friend. But if it meant that I got to have Willow? Yeah. I’d definitely risk it all for her. I mean, if I ever found myself worthy of that role, of course.

  That’s the part that I just can’t be sure of. Nobody has to spell it out for me, I already know there is no way that I deserve to be someone special to Willow. She’s way the fuck out of my league.

  “So, where were flying to yesterday, anyways? Big trip or something?”

  Willow stops mid munch, holding a mozzarella stick a few inches from her mouth.

  “Home. I was on my way home from Cali.”

  She has my full attention. “Cali? What were you doing in there?”

  She drops the cheese stick on her plate and leans back in her chair, sighing loudly. “Honestly? Nothing, now. I flew out there to interview for my residency with my fiancé. Turns out, he got the residency, and I got the boot.”

  Hold up.

  I know that Willow has been working her ass off in medical school. Every time that I’ve seen her, she’s had her nose shoved in a book, or a set of flashcards in her hand, constantly repeating the words written there, filling up that already big brain of hers with even more knowledge. Willow is hella smart, and equally determined. That’s why she moved in with Wyatt to begin with, since she couldn’t exactly work while finishing medical school. I’m impressed by her brains and obsessed with her beauty. Have I mentioned what a rocking fucking package she is?

  But I had no idea that she was another man’s ideal package, too. At no point in the time that I’ve known Willow, has she ever mentioned a boyfriend, let alone, a fucking fiancé. I suppose that I wouldn’t be the first person that she would confide in about her relationship status, but I assume that she would have at least told Wyatt. Who, to date, has never mentioned anything about his little sister having a man.

  “You’re engaged?” I nearly choke on my drink, breaking out into a coughing fit that causes every member of the wait staff to turn their attention to us. Willow just stares across the table, aimlessly munching on her fried food, and shrugging.

  “Had.” Her face darkens. “We broke it off while I was in Cali.”

  “Thank fucking God for that,” I mutter, even though I didn’t actually mean to say it out loud. Willow just rolls her eyes.

  “Like someone being taken has ever stopped you before, Masters. Quit acting like a saint. You’ve probably broken up more relationships than an unexpected positive Chlamydia test.”

  She fires her words at me with a gleam in her eye. I just frown

  .

  “I follow the bro code, Willow. I make it a point not to sleep with other guys’ girls.” At least, I try really hard not to do it. Sometimes, women lie and pretend to be single. But for the most part, I steer clear of the taken ones.

  “You sleep with every available vagina in every zip code.”

  I raise an eyebrow.

  “Sometimes, you sleep with two of them at the same time.”

  “That’s physically impossible, Willow. C’mon now, you’re a doctor. You should know that.”

  Her eyes narrow.

  “You’re a pig, and you know it. I don’t care if it’s physically possible or not. I’ve seen you with more than one woman at a time, and I’ve even had to hear it. You are a vagina magnet. You are…” Her phone dings, and her attention shifts from me.

  “Omigod.” She hops to her feet. “The airlines are back up and running.” In the next second, she’s signaling to our waiter, I’m paying the bill, and then I’m following her as she hurries towards the door.

  Willow can’t wait to get away from me.

  It stings a lot more than it should.

  6

  Willow

  Home. Even though I have a love and hate relationship with this place, still. Showering in my own shower and laying on my own clean sheet is nothing to frown upon. After the last forty eight hours, I’m happy as hell to be here, and to be away from Jude.

  Now that there is some distance between us, I can actually look back and reflect on what went down in that god forsaken hotel room in Chicago. I can rationalize my bad decisions and chalk it up to the dreaded rebound. Of course, there were a million better candidates to rebound with, but Jude was there, Jude is always willing, and well, Jude is hot.

  In a dirty, I’ve slept with the entire universe yet I’m still sexy as hell kind of way.

  It’s only sensible that every woman have an indiscretion that she chooses not to talk about. Jude Masters just so happens to be mine. And since I have no intention of ever speaking about it again, and most certainly, never experiencing him again, all too soon, it will be a distant memory.

  Yes. That’s exactly how this will play out. I’ve received my injections and I was given the morning after pill. Now, as long as I can clear it from my memory, all will be good.

  The house is quiet, which is an unusual blessing. Wyatt is gone for the night, which means that there will be no loud music, no partying, and best of all, no barely dressed dimwits running around the place and squealing. When it’s like this, living here isn’t so bad. When the other is happening, I can’t wait to move out.

  Sighing to myself, I open my phone and begin scrolling through my emails. I don’t know why I’m even bothering to look, since UNC Children’s Hospital couldn’t wait to get rid of me. They aren’t going to be emailing me an offer, because they didn’t want me. I’m just rubbing salt in the wound at this point, but I can’t stop dwelling on it. I just want to know what i
t was about me that they didn’t like.

  I’m in the top of my class. I had three solid letters of recommendations from well-respected pediatric oncologists. My resume was top notch, my tailored business suit screamed professionalism, and I arrived on time, ready to nail every single question.

  It still baffles me that BJ was picked, and I wasn’t. I’m still angry about it, and I’m still angry at him, even though I honestly have no right to be. But deep down, I know that I was the better candidate. BJ wants to help kids, of course, but not as much as I do. He’s talked more about the paycheck that came along with the residency rather than the fact that we would be in the best place to learn how to help heal sick children.

  But we’re in this for two entirely different reasons, and it’s not BJ’s fault that he hasn’t experienced childhood cancer firsthand. It’s something that I never wanted to experience, but unfortunately, that wasn’t part of my life’s plan.

  Wyatt and I didn’t start out as a twosome. Our parents actually had three children at one time, even though it was pretty short lived. Wyatt’s the oldest, and I’m technically the middle. Our baby brother, Weston, was diagnosed with leukemia at just two years old. If you’ve never had to see an adorable, cherub cheeked toddler go through chemotherapy, then let me promise you, it’s nothing that you want to bear witness to. Our baby put up a damn good fight, but after two years, his little body gave out, and he succumbed to his illness. It was devastating for all of us. No one handled it well, and after he passed, our family basically fell apart.

  Our parents divorced, and Wyatt and I were thrown into an ugly custody battle which ended with a mostly absent father and a drunk for a mother. It’s something that we each still bear our own scars from.

  Wyatt threw himself into football, which for him paid off, and I threw myself into school, knowing exactly what I wanted to do with my life. There’s never been any other career path that I’ve been interested in. Being a doctor has always been what I wanted to do. Pediatric oncology is my passion, and frankly, I’m pretty pissed off that the board of education at the leading children’s hospital in the United States couldn’t see that.