“Damn baby, you about knocked me over. You look so good.” His arms tighten around me and I squeeze him hard, fighting at the tears that threaten to spring into my eyes.
I’m overwhelmed at having him here with me. It’s like now that I’ve got a hold of him, I never want to let him go again.
That’s sort of a scary thought.
“Are you sure you want to go to this party?”
I ignore the reluctance in Owen’s voice and grab his hand, tugging on it. He’s slagging behind, his shoulders slumped, the look on his face almost making me want to giggle. I can only imagine him doing exactly this at around eleven years old, dragging his feet and whining.
But he’s not eleven, he’s twenty-one. And he doesn’t want to go to the barbecue at Shep’s house because I told him all about my argument with Talby yesterday and he’s not real thrilled about it. He’s not too excited over the idea of other guys wanting to get into my panties either.
Yeah, I mentioned that line specifically and I swear I thought Owen was going to bust a blood vessel he looked so angry. This was right after we had sex though, so he was fairly relaxed and got over quick.
After I made my way down the length of his finely muscled body with my lips.
A blush steals over me and I tell myself to get over it. But I can’t get over it. Owen has transformed his body in a month. He was already lean and well muscled but now…he could pose in a fitness magazine. Or in those underwear ads I saw Drew doing.
Yes. Drew Callahan was recently in an underwear advertising campaign. Go figure. I can’t believe Fable let it happen but when I asked her about it, she gave me a smirk and said, “I’m the one who gets to sample the goods whenever I want so I’m not complaining.”
I’d blushed furiously over that remark. I don’t like thinking about Owen’s sister sampling Drew’s goods. Sheesh.
But anyway. Owen looks good enough to eat. He had a six pack stomach before and now it’s an eight pack. His thighs are bulked up with muscle. His arms…good lord, his arms. I could write poems about the beauty that is Owen’s arms. When they hold me close against his extremely hard chest, I just want to melt.
I turn to face him, yanking on his hand to pull him closer to me and he comes willingly, his mouth formed in that sexy half smile of his that I love. His hair is still long, the ends curling against his neck and I wrap my arms around him, my fingers tugging on the strands at his nape so he tilts his head toward mine and captures my lips in a kiss.
“We don’t have to stay,” I murmur against his mouth, a shuddery breath leaving me when he slides his hand over my backside. I’m wearing a white cover up dress and my black bikini beneath it. We’re parked down the street from Shep’s house, since there are so many cars already there. A ton of people are at this party and they won’t miss us. “We could go back to my room if you want. Head down to the beach later this afternoon to find a spot to watch the fireworks.”
His smile grows. “Now you’re talking,” he says just before he kisses me again.
“Get a room!” someone yells, causing me to spring apart from Owen, a guilty look surely on my face. I see that it’s Tristan Prescott who said it. He’s watching the both of us with a giant grin on his face. “Caught ya,” he teases me and I roll my eyes.
Owen looms at my side, his body tensing up. I turn to him, my hand on his chest, my gaze meeting his. “That’s Tristan. He’s cool. I promise.”
My boyfriend looks decidedly jealous. Not what I want to deal with on the Fourth of July. “If you say so. Though maybe I should tell him to quit checking your ass out.”
“He’s not checking me…” I turn to find Tristan staring at me, his gaze in the vicinity of where my butt had just been. He jerks his head up guiltily, his smile weakening. I can practically feel the glower on Owen’s face and I know he’s sending Tristan a touch-her-and-I-will-kill-you stare.
Great. I’m honest with Owen from the very beginning and I tell him everything that happened with Talby and her accusations, yet he’s still acting like Tristan wants to steal me away from him. Even if Tristan did want to do that, it wouldn’t matter.
I’m with Owen.
“Hey.” Tristan approaches, extending his hand out in front of him. “I’m Tristan. You must be Owen.”
“Yeah.” Owen steps away from me and takes Tristan’s hand, giving it a firm shake. Like, extra firm, considering Tristan just winced. “Nice to meet you.”
“Great meeting you too.” He disentangles his hand from Owen’s, shaking it out like the circulation got cut off. Freaking Owen, he’s so over the top. “Your girlfriend here talks about you a lot.”
“Oh yeah?” Owen slips his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his side. “Glad to hear it.”
“Yeah, well.” Tristan shoves his hands into the pockets of his black swim trunks. “I guess I’ll see you guys back at the house.”
“What are you doing?” I ask him and he shrugs, glancing around like he doesn’t want anyone to hear what he has to say. Weird.
“Looking for someone. A girl.” He lowers his voice, his gaze turning almost pleading. “Don’t tell Talby, okay? She might flip out on me.”
Well, crap. He’s avoiding her too. “Is she here?”
“No, I thought she was coming with you,” Tristan says.
“We sort of had an argument yesterday,” I tell him.
Tristan frowns. “That sucks. She’s sort of been on a rampage lately.”
“Go figure,” Owen mutters. I poke him in the ribs to shut him up.
We say our goodbyes and I take Owen’s hand once more, leading him toward the house. The party is in full swing. There are clusters of people on the front porch and a volleyball net has been set up on the front lawn, a team of guys on one side and girls on the other. Everyone is in their swimsuits so there’s plenty of skin on display and I suddenly feel self conscious.
I don’t really want to take my cover up off. I know I’ve gained weight since I’ve been here in Santa Augustina. I’m not eating as good and I sit most of the day at work. When I’m home with Owen he forces me outside so I’ll actually get some exercise.
Oh, and then there’s all the sex. That adds up to plenty of exercise and calorie burning. But with me being on my own here, I end up eating more fast food than I should.
Like, way more fast food than I should. My stomach is a little rounder than it used to be only a month ago. I’m not too thrilled with the idea of walking around in my bikini when so many other girls at the party look so incredibly amazing.
“You’re tense.” Owen curls his fingers around the back of my neck. “What’s wrong?”
I shrug one shoulder, my gaze on the beautiful people playing volleyball on the grass. “I’m being stupid right now.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Not really.” I shake my head, irritated with himself. “Trust me.”
“How then?” He looks seriously perplexed.
“In my head. Having stupid thoughts.” I turn to face him. “I feel…fat. I’ve gained weight this summer. I spend most of my day inside sitting at a desk eating hamburgers or whatever and I swear my butt is spreading wider every day. It sucks.”
He reaches around me and sneaks his hand beneath my cover up to palm my backside. “I think your ass is sexy,” he murmurs as his fingers slip beneath the material of my bikini bottom.
“I think everything about you is sexy.” I shove at him and it’s like trying to move a boulder. The man is solid muscle. “And everything about me is slowly going soft.”
“I like all those soft parts of yours.” His grin is wicked and I know he’s thinking dirty thoughts. Which of course, makes me want to blush and stammer and basically act the fool. But then his expression grows somber and I know what he’s about to say will melt my heart in a different way. “I love every part of you, Chels. So stop giving yourself a complex and let’s go have fun at this stupid party.”
I step into him and rest my hands on his chest,
lifting up on tiptoe so I can plant a kiss on his lips. “We don’t have to stay long if you don’t want to,” I murmur.
“Good.” He slips his hand from beneath my cover up and wraps his arm around my waist. “We’ll make an appearance and maybe go hang out on the beach? I’d rather be alone with you.”
“Agreed.” I kiss him again, because I can’t resist his delicious lips. “Let’s go inside.”
We ended up staying at the party all afternoon, into the evening. I was fully prepared to hate everyone, especially the two assholes that live at this house, the ones who are supposedly interested in Chelsea. She didn’t believe they were interested in her since she’d told them upfront she had a boyfriend but I had my doubts.
First of all, look at her. All that talk about her ass spreading or whatever, give me a break. She’s chatting with a group of girls at this very moment, standing there clutching a bottle of water in her hand, wearing that sexy black bikini that drives me out of my mind. Those little strings at her hips tempt me to do bad things. Like untie them. With my teeth.
Second, the whole forbidden-fruit-she’s-taken theory still hung in my head. But that was before I started talking to Tristan and Shep—ridiculous name, but he can’t help it that his parents gave it to him—and I realized pretty quickly that they are both really cool dudes. Rich as fuck, don’t have a care in the world guys but that’s what makes them so fun. They seriously didn’t care about…anything.
At least, that’s how they acted.
The house they live in is huge and swarming with people, most of them around our age. College students who stay in town for the summer, is what Chelsea told me. A surprisingly large amount of them stick around, working summer jobs, hanging at the beach. I wouldn’t want to leave this place either. Santa Augustina is beautiful.
The party never slowed down from the moment we arrived. Shep and Tristan’s back covered patio was full of tables laden with food and the guys took turns barbecuing hamburgers and hot dogs. There was enough booze to get everyone seriously liquored up and there was even a couple of cakes with white frosting and topped with strawberries and blueberries in an American flag design.
How domestic.
I ended up chatting with a bunch of people, played a couple of games of volleyball, ate until I was stuffed and felt up my girl in the pool when no one was looking.
All in all, it’s been a perfect fucking party.
“Fireworks are starting soon!” someone called and a roar of approval followed the announcement. I watch as Chelsea says something to the girls she’s talking to, gives them a little wave and then heads toward me, her smile shy as she approaches.
“Did you want to go to the beach still?” She glances around and I do the same, noticing that no one seems too inclined to leave any time soon.
I sort of feel the same way.
“Do you want to go?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” She steps closer and I can smell her, a mixture of chlorine and sunscreen and just beneath, the sweet, unmistakable scent of Chelsea. “Shep mentioned earlier that everyone throws their blankets or towels or chairs out on the back lawn and they watch the fireworks here. The house isn’t too far from the ocean.”
The neighborhood is fancy as hell. A far cry from my neighborhood at home, this area is more on Drew and Fable’s level. “You want to stay then?”
“What do you think? It’s already late and I’m sure the beach is crowded. We probably wouldn’t be able to find a spot.” She scrunches up her sunburned nose and I tap it with my index finger. Damn, she’s cute. “I don’t mind staying if you don’t.”
“If you want to stay, let’s stay.” I pull her into me. Yeah, I would’ve liked to keep her all to myself but I’ve had fun this afternoon. And I know she has too. Why leave if we don’t want to? “I’ve had a good time today. I like your friends.”
“I’m so glad.” She smiles and leans her forehead against my jaw. “I like them too. It’s nice that Talby isn’t here, causing a bunch of drama. It’s probably mean of me to say that.”
“Not mean if it’s the truth.” I push her away from me so I can look into her eyes. “We’ll watch the fireworks and then head back to your place so we can create our own fireworks. What do you think?”
She giggles. I think she’s had a few drinks and she’s feeling pretty relaxed. Her cheeks are pink from the sun and so are her shoulders. She looks beautiful. It hits me again—I can’t believe how lucky I am that she’s mine. That our time together here so far has been pretty much fucking perfect. “I think that sounds like a great idea,” she whispers as she loops her arms around my neck, her mouth seeking mine.
I kiss her right there in the backyard as we stand near the pool, my hands resting on her waist as she plasters her body against mine. I can feel every inch of her and my body is reacting because fuck, she feels good. Too good. Her tongue slides into my mouth and I take the kiss deeper for a brief moment, coming up for air before we get out of control.
“Do you two ever quit?” Tristan yells again from the pool and I burst out laughing. Chelsea buries her face against my chest but I can hear her muffled giggles.
“Soon as the fireworks here are done, we’ll head home for our own,” I tell him with a grin, earning another slap on my chest from Chelsea.
Oh well. It was worth it.
Two weeks later…
“I haven’t seen you since the Fourth of July Owen. I can’t believe you’re not coming to see me this weekend either.”
I contain the aggravated sigh that wants to escape. Chelsea’s pissed at me. Again. After having the best weekend with her ever two weeks ago, I haven’t been able to come see her since and she’s mad as hell about it. Doesn’t matter if she only has another two weeks there before she comes home. She’s lonely. I miss her too but fuck, my life is consumed with football right now and I can’t lose focus.
Plus, ever since her friendship ended with Talby—and I say good riddance, that chick was bad news—she’s been even lonelier. And I feel bad for her, I really do, but my training has picked up big time. The team is back and Coach Halsey has us out on that field in the early morning, before the temperature gets too hot, making us run plays over and over again like the task master that he is.
And if we’re not training in the early morning, we’re training at night, right as the sun’s going down. It’s still hot but at least the sun isn’t beating down on our heads. We just keep going and going Monday through Friday and I’m worn the fuck out. I’ve never worked out so much in my damn life.
In other words, I’m fucking exhausted. I take the weekends to catch up on sleep because I never stop during the week. More than once I’d contemplated giving up but I know what I’m doing now has the potential to further my career. More like has the potential to gain me a career in the NFL.
And I want that. Bad.
When I’m feeling low or ready to quit¸ I talk to Wade. Or Drew. Or even Fable. But lately, it’s like I can’t talk to Chelsea. She’s too defensive. Last week she even accused me of being selfish.
Something’s not right with her. Again. I can’t quite put my finger on it and she’s not really talking.
“Listen, I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m exhausted, babe. I’d be worthless if I came to see you. All I’d want to do is sleep the entire weekend. Plus I couldn’t leave until Friday night and then I’d have to head back home Sunday afternoon so I won’t get home too late, since I practice so early on Monday.” I try and stifle my yawn but I can’t. And it’s a jaw popping loud one too.
I can practically feel the irritation rolling off Chelsea, even though we’re hundreds of miles apart from each other.
“You promised when I first came here that we could always count down five days until we see each other again. That theory went right out the window within the first week,” she says irritably.
“And that couldn’t be helped,” I remind her. “I’m doing this for my future here, Chels. For our future. For us.�
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“For us? Or for you?”
I’m quiet for a moment, her words feeling particularly sharp. Like little daggers, stabbing me in the heart. She knows I don’t make any decisions without thinking about how it affects her. I’m fucking hurt that she’d say such a thing. “This is temporary, Chels. You’ll be home in two weeks. Everything will go back to normal then.”
“What if I don’t come back in two weeks? What if I want to…stay here?”
I swallow hard, trying to contain my emotions. “What the hell are you talking about?” I croak.
“Professor Michaels said he wants me to stay. He says he can still get me into the graduate program for the fall semester if I’m interested.” She pauses for a moment. “I’m still interested.”
“So you want to stay there.”
“I-I don’t know.” Another pause. “Maybe. You’ll be too busy for me anyway.”
“I’m never too busy for you,” I say as I stretch out across our bed. Damn, the pillow feels extra soft. I could pass out right now, even with the distressing news Chelsea’s throwing at me.
“Then come see me this weekend,” she tosses out.
I close my eyes and breathe deep. “You know I can’t. It’s just…too hard right now.”
“Meaning that you’re too busy for me.” She sounds almost triumphant that she just proved me wrong. “I think I need to do this, Owen. I need to do the graduate program after all.”
“You’re serious.” Fuck me, what is she saying? She doesn’t want to come home?
“You’re going to be so wrapped up in football, when are you ever going to have time for me?”
“Why are you acting like this, Chels? You knew when we got together that I played football.”
“I just didn’t think you’d want to do it as a career,” she says, her voice small.
“You’re the one who kept encouraging me for the last year that I should consider playing professionally. You agreed with Drew and Fable every time they brought it up. You told me I shouldn’t give up on my dream,” I point out.
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