by Alley Ciz
“She was not random—she’s on the volleyball team,” Dante says to blue hat then turns familiar-looking brown eyes to Kay. “And I hate that you two”—he bounces a finger between Kay and her friend—“talk all the time. Besides, KayKay, you know you are the one who owns my heart. When are you going to make Mama’s dreams come true and marry me?”
“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.” Kay laughs, looking over her shoulder at me and rolling her eyes.
“Ouch,” Dante cries. “What the fuck, JT?”
“Stop hitting on my best friend,” blue hat—JT, I guess—warns.
“As riveting as I find old reruns of Beavis and Butt-Head, I think I’ll skip this particular episode. Don’t get arrested. Love you.” Kay ends the call as they say their goodbyes then turns to me, pink coloring her cheeks.
“I take it that was the younger Grayson?” I point toward her computer.
She nods. “And my best friend JT.”
My eyebrows rise when she walks around me to shut the door.
“If I leave it open, we’ll have all my roommates in here in minutes and I’ll never get back to studying.”
I toe off my sneakers, grab one of her zebra print pillows, and settle onto the bed.
“Sure, just make yourself at home.” Still, she climbs up next to me, pulling on the legs of her sweats and situating her laptop after crossing them.
“Cute.” I tap one of the footballs on the socks peeking out from under her bent knee.
Wrapping my hand around her tiny foot, I run a finger up her instep, unable to resist touching her.
Five days is way too long to go without seeing her. It’s like the drought forced me to acknowledge that…I’m starting to…catch…
…
…feelings.
That is one scary-as-fuck realization.
“How’s your brother doing?” It’s the only thing I can think to ask with my mind spinning.
“Better. Thanks for asking.” I get another one of those smiles.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
Her eyes crinkle in the corners, and I can feel her gearing up to give me shit.
“Since when do you ask permission?”
I give her foot a warning squeeze.
“What happened to your parents?”
She drops her gaze, her comforter suddenly fascinating. “My dad was killed by a drunk driver when I was in high school.”
“Damn, baby.” I run my thumb over the ball of her foot, trying to soothe her. I had suspected as much, but it still sucks to hear.
I notice she didn’t say anything about her mom, but she looks too crestfallen to push.
“Is that why you two are so close?”
“Yeah.” There’s a long beat of silence before her gaze finally rises back to mine. “He almost gave up everything to be able to be my guardian.” She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “The easiest solution would have been to let Pops, JT’s dad”—she points to her laptop, indicating the friend she was talking to when I showed up—“take me, but he refused. It was quite the declaration.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” She starts to pick at invisible lint on her sweats. “I admire E so much for his conviction when it came to me, but Bette is still my favorite person of their duo.”
“You call her Bette?”
She tilts her head at me as if confused by my question. “It’s her name.”
“I get that. What I mean is you call everyone else you’re close with by a letter, so why don’t you call her B?”
She takes a moment, almost as if she didn’t notice she did it. “I guess it’s because she’s more like a mom than my sister-in-law.”
“So, it’s like a sign of respect?”
“I guess.” She shifts the laptop onto the bed. “She married my brother—which was always in the cards for them—to qualify as my guardian too. She put her entire life on hold to make sure mine didn’t have to change. I never want her to doubt how grateful I am for everything she’s done for me.”
Taking a chance, I shift my hand from her foot up her leg, massaging her calf until I reach her knee.
“My dad died when I was younger too.”
“He did?”
“It’s different than yours. I was only two so I don’t even remember it, but…yeah.”
She still hasn’t shifted away from my touch, and in my boldest move since kissing her, I pull her to rest against my side.
“It doesn’t make the loss any easier, though.”
“No.” I run a hand along her arm, the silky quality of her skin too much to resist. “But like you, I also got lucky.”
“How so?” Goose bumps follow in the wake of my touch down to her wrist.
“First there’s my mom, who is the best.” She stiffens, but I just continue to run my fingertips down toward her hand then up to her elbow and back again. “And Brantley, my stepdad, doesn’t treat me any different than my half-siblings.”
“You have siblings?” She starts to play with the hem of my t-shirt, the sporadic touches on my stomach making it hard to concentrate.
“Yeah, twins actually. They’re in high school now.”
“Wow, twins.”
My dick twitches at the scrape of a nail under my navel.
“I’ve met a few sets of twins before. I’m always fascinated when they have that twin connection.”
I laugh, nodding. My brother and sister definitely have that.
When her fingers make their way fully underneath my shirt, stroking the cuts of my abs, the last of my control snaps. I bend over and plant my lips on hers.
This time she doesn’t hesitate in kissing me back. Her mouth opens to mine and I suck her bottom lip between my own. Her nails rake across the back of my neck, the action causing a shiver to run down my spine and straight to my dick.
I’ve hooked up with a lot of girls—and I mean a lot; I’m not going to apologize for it—but none of those encounters compare to kissing Kay.
It might be because I barely kissed most of them, but I suspect it was the lack of emotion that made them fall flat.
With Kay? I can’t stop the feels, and that scares the shit out of me.
I. Don’t. Date.
So why do I want to date her?
Date? DATE? Why can’t you just fuck her and be done with it? Why do you have to date?
Not wanting to ruin the moment by thinking too hard, I trail kisses along her jaw, down her neck, and behind her ear. Inhaling deeply, I’m hit with the same peppermint scent as the night of the Alpha party.
“Why does your hair smell like peppermint?” I can’t help but ask.
“It’s my conditioner.” She moans when I take her earlobe between my teeth and nibble.
“I like it.”
“We need to stop.” She presses a hand to my chest when I move to lay her under me. “I really do need to study.”
With all the blood in my body pooled in my dick, even my inner coach doesn’t have an opinion.
I’m all for studying—at least if it’s her naked body. I go for another kiss only to be halted again.
“If you keep trying to distract me, I’m going to kick you out.”
That is the last thing I want. I pull back, lifting her up in the process.
“I’ll be good. I promise.” I draw an X over my heart.
“Somehow I doubt that,” she says, but she shoots me a grin.
Needing to prove her wrong, I reach into my bag for my English textbook. Might as well get a jump on the chapters I need to read.
Our little make-out sesh caused her purple highlighter to fall off the bed, so Kay hops down to retrieve it. When she bends over, she flips her hair over her shoulder, and I catch a glimpse of black I never noticed by her ear.
“How have I never noticed this before?” I stroke a finger down the four black silhouettes running behind her left ear.
“I guess because you’re usually on my right side.” She tries for no
nchalance, but her nipples are currently doing their best to poke through her top. “Plus, it’s small.” She starts to trace some of the lines of my tribal sleeve.
I’ve had many ladies feel up my tattoo before, but none felt as sensual as her casual touch.
She reclaims her spot on the bed, but I tilt her head and continue to admire the ink. I don’t know why I’m so shocked she has a tattoo, but I am.
“Why does this look so familiar?” I continue to trace it.
“It’s Peter Pan, Wendy, and her brothers flying to Neverland.” Her voice comes out breathy.
“Why?”
She shakes her head. “It’s personal.”
“One day you’ll have to tell me about it. Do you have any others?”
She nods and shifts to lean back against the pillows again, my hand finally dropping with the movement.
She pushes on the band of her sweatpants, causing my dick to jerk back to attention, the breath stilling in my lungs at the glimpse of a Calvin Klein band before it’s also lowered and a set of angel wings appears on her right hip.
The detailing on the tattoo is exquisite. I try to focus on it, really I do, but the sight of her hip bone and the proximity of the tattoo to the place I only need her to shift the fabric down another few inches to see has my balls jockeying to the line of scrimmage.
I’m painfully hard, the zipper of my jeans doing its best to brand me in a place no man wants branded.
Like I did with the ink behind her ear, I reach out to trace this one as well.
“It’s for my dad,” she croaks.
“I could have guessed that.”
Bullshit. You probably couldn’t even tell her your own name if asked right now. The only thing you’d be able to guess is what she tastes like.
“Okay, you really need to stop touching me. I have to study.”
We shift back to rest side by side against her pillows—me with my book, her with her laptop—and we settle in to work.
Trav: Dude where you at?
I read Trav’s message, surprised to see it’s almost midnight. Kay and I have been studying for hours.
There may have been a lot more touches and a few kisses thrown in, but you’re not gonna hear a complaint from me.
My dick, however? He hasn’t stopped bitching about turning into a Smurf my balls are so blue.
ME: Damn, didn’t realize it was so late. I’ll be back soon.
* * *
TRAV: Where’d you go?
* * *
ME: Studying with Skittles.
* * *
TRAV: Studying? *wink wink*
* * *
ME: Yeah, you know, with books and stuff *book emoji*
* * *
TRAV: I’m not sure what to address first, the fact that YOU are STUDYING, like ACTUALLY studying, or that it’s with a chick.
* * *
ME: *middle finger emoji*
* * *
TRAV: LOL. You wish you could have a piece of this.
* * *
TRAV: *boomerang of Trav’s body*
* * *
ME: Moron.
* * *
TRAV: Love you too, bro.
“Leaving?” Kay looks over when I start to pack up.
“Yeah, I didn’t realize how late it is. I have to be at the gym at six.”
“Just thinking of being up that early makes me want to throw up.”
Her disgusted look is comical.
“I’ll walk you out.” She hops off the bed.
The apartment is quiet, all the other doors closed; most likely everyone else is asleep.
Kay opens the front door with a quick, “Bye.” If she thinks I’m going to leave with only a lame goodbye, she has another thing coming.
I pull her body flush with mine, every inch I can manage in contact with her. Using my free hand, I tilt her face up and kiss her.
I keep this one sweet instead of letting it heat like its predecessors.
“Sweet dreams, Skittles,” I breathe against her lips.
“Bye, Mase.” Her voice hitches on my name then squeaks when I give her ass a hard squeeze for the road.
I could get used to her calling me Mase.
#Chapter24
My head is still spinning from the kiss—well, I guess kisses—Mason laid on me last night.
Hold up. Don’t undersell this. *fans self* That hot piece of man meat laid the fiercest first kiss on your lips. Oh boy, I need a Gatorade just thinking about it.
I can’t even deny my inner cheerleader. That kiss damn near melted my brain it was so straight fire—which, if you ask me, is totally unfair. How the hell am I supposed to resist him when he looks the way he does and goes around kissing me like that?
Actually…
If I’m being really honest, I had Mason on the brain before he came in with his kamikaze lips.
I haven’t been able to get Bette’s words out of my head since she dropped them like a bomb.
For G, a person who doesn’t even get to witness the PF side of me all that often, to be the one to say that’s how I am with Mason makes me reevaluate our every encounter. It’s not right. That can’t be true. Can it?
God! Even to myself I sound like a crazy person.
Still…
Walking across the blue mat, shoulders rolled back, spine straight, head not hidden by a hat but held high, giant bow firmly in place, I am 100% PF Dennings. She was born here at The Barracks.
This place.
This home.
It’s my sanctuary. No bullies. No worries about the press. No one caring who I am outside of one half of a stunting pair that could consistently hit tricks few in the world can.
Put me at the top of the pyramid and my smile and facials will be so big I’ll be damned if the judges will be able to look away.
I wouldn’t still be here—or a functioning human being—if it weren’t for this place. Hell, half the reason coaching is so important to me is to hopefully be for someone what Coach Kris was to me.
But, outside these walls? When I’m off mat at a competition? I avoid attention like it carries Ebola.
So why am I drawn to Mason Nova when he’s patient zero?
I’m folded over, my chest to the mat, legs spread in a full straddle when my phone vibrates beside me.
MASON: Hey Skittles! Wanna hang out later?
* * *
ME: Shouldn’t you be at practice right now?
* * *
MASON: Taking a short break.
* * *
ME: Do you regularly text girls during practice?
* * *
MASON: Girls? No. You? You’re worth the risk of having to run suicides.
Damn you, Mason Nova, stop being so damn charming.
MASON: So what do you say? Study together again later?
* * *
ME: Can’t, I’m working.
I tell myself that’s not disappointment I feel. Also, why am I texting him back? Why am I engaging?
Because you liiiiiiiike him, my inner cheerleader singsongs.
I swear if she starts singing about us kissing in a tree, I’m gonna slap a bitch.
MASON: *GIF of J-Lo folding her arms and pouting*
Shit! I totally like him.
I’m so screwed.
ME: Go back to practice. Michigan isn’t going to beat themselves this weekend, especially on the road.
* * *
MASON: It’s hot when you talk football.
* * *
ME: *rolls eyes*
* * *
MASON: Did I ever tell you how I LIVE for making you roll your eyes at me?
I swear he must be incapable of turning off the charm.
ME: Mase.
* * *
MASON: OMG you called me Mase. *heart eyes emoji*
I hope he does have to run suicides later. With full pads, too.
ME: Grrr.
* * *
MASON: *GIF of Barbie saying, “Rawr.”*
&nb
sp; * * *
ME: OMG! I’m gonna stop answering now!!!!
* * *
ME: PRACTICE!!!!!!!!!!!
* * *
MASON: Fine. BE that way! I’ll see you in the AM. I’ll be the ridiculously attractive guy holding your coffee.
Mason’s penchant for bringing me coffee and sitting with me in class has already made the rounds on the UofJ411 Instagram account. Social media is the bane of my existence, and Mason Nova? Well let’s just say #CasanovaWatch trends all the time around campus.
Yet I don’t put a stop to his escalating attention. Deep down, I don’t want to.
Shit! I can’t think about this stuff anymore. I specifically came to The Barracks over an hour early again to banish the frustrating—and yes, attractive—coffee-bringing football player from my thoughts.
Tonight I need to focus on my plan for rearranging a few partner stunt pairings on the Admirals.
The marriage between base and flyer is a delicate balance. Sure, the flyer is the one getting tossed in the air, doing flips and tricks, but they are only able to accomplish them if they can trust their base is there to catch them—literally.
Coach Kris has taken my skill as a flyer and my history with JT, helping me hone it and develop it into having the best eye in finding these pairings.