by Mia Storm
One of his hands grips my arm hard, just below my shoulder. But it’s the other one that has my attention, sliding slowly down my hip until it rests on my ass. He drags me over him so I’m straddling his lap as he tilts his head and deepens our kiss, and the hard bulge in his swim trunks presses against sensitive spot between my legs. I feel him from the tingle in my scalp to the curl of my toes. And when he moans into my mouth, the sound vibrates my bones.
I lose myself in the feeling of his hot, hard body pressed up the front of mine; his dark scruff scratching my face; his wet, warm tongue invading my mouth and taking possession of me; the frenetic beat of our hearts, each matching the other’s.
Time stops. There’s this excruciatingly intense moment where we exist in a vacuum, just Marcus and me. My senses dull and sharpen at the same time as the world fades out and everything Marcus is doing to me is amplified by the electricity flowing between us.
I totally lose myself in the flood of sensations I’ve never experienced before. When I come to my senses a few seconds later, Marcus has set me on the cement and is staggering to his feet, his eyes wide and his head shaking an adamant no. But the bulge in the front of his swim trunks puts the lie to the denial in his body language.
“I was…that was…” He bumps into the starting block and it seems to jar him back to his senses. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”
I gain my feet. “It’s okay.”
God. I’m a moron. It was so much more than okay.
He must see something in my eyes, because his soften again. “Addie…” He trails off with a slow shake of his head before taking a deep breath and starting again. “You are this incredible…” He trails off again and swallows. “…girl. You’re a girl. I have to keep reminding myself of that, because every time I look at you I see this gorgeous, sexy, amazing woman.”
“I’ll be eighteen in January.” Why can’t I stop myself from saying things that make me sound totally pathetic?
“And I’m twenty-three.” There’s a repulsed scowl on his face as he says this that makes it pretty clear what he thinks of the notion of us together.
I grab my towel and wrap it around me. “I’m sorry. I just thought…” My turn to trail off, because I have no clue where I was going with that. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I thought, except that you’re the only person in this shithole town that seems to give a rat’s ass about me.” I lower my gaze and huff out a disgusted laugh. “I guess I just thought—”
“You thought right, Addie,” he cuts in, saving me from myself.
His voice is low, and when I look up, Marcus has closed half the distance between us. From his expression, it looks like it’s taking great force of will not to come the last two feet.
“If I were five years younger or you were a few years older, nothing could keep me away from you, but…we’re not. I can’t go where this is heading.”
My heart is galloping in my chest at his admission. “So, when I’m eighteen…?”
And there’s that repulsed grimace again. I can’t reconcile it with his words…his body language. He seems to want me on every level except his head, which is disgusted by the idea.
I feel intense heat rise to my face and know I’m blushing. “Sorry,” I say with a wave of my hand, backing toward the locker room before he can see. “Stupid question. Don’t answer that.”
I duck into the locker room and walk with my head down to my locker, even though there’s no one else around.
Chapter 15
Marcus
I’ve lost my mind. I’m convinced it started that day on the park bench after Blaire’s wedding. I’ve been unraveling so slowly I didn’t even realize it. But as I watch Addie vanish into the girls’ locker room with her head down, as if she’s done something wrong, I know I’m totally undone. Because all I can think about is going in there and finishing what we started.
But I’ve already let it go too far.
Once the door closes behind her, I dive into the pool to cool off. I sink to the bottom and sit there, watching bubbles rise in a steady stream as I slowly exhale. I close my eyes and let the water slowly lift me, and when I break the surface, I roll face down and start to swim hard. Several laps later, when I feel like I might have my shit together, I climb out of the pool and dry off.
When I look up, Addie is on the bleachers, watching me. Even fully dressed in a hoodie and jeans, the sight of her does something to me. Something that’s totally out of my control.
And wrong.
I keep my eyes anywhere but on her as I move her direction. “Do you need a ride?”
I know I’m treading into dangerous territory by asking, but we need to clear the air. If I can keep it together long enough to get her dropped off, that will prove to both of us what happened was an isolated mistake.
She pushes to her feet. “I’ll walk.”
“Addie,” I say as she turns for the gate, and the desperation I thought I could control comes through in the word loud and clear.
She turns back to face me, and never in my life have I wanted to kiss someone as much as I want to kiss her. Because I don’t remember anyone’s kiss ever stealing my breath the way hers just did.
“Let me drive you home.”
For several seconds her eyes search mine, and what I’m just now discovering is I’ve got no defenses when it comes to Addie. I know from the way her cheeks get pink and her breathing gets a little uneven that she sees the unbridled need in my gaze. I can’t hide it from her anymore.
She swallows and lowers her eyes, as if embarrassed by what she does to me. “Okay.”
I tug on my T-shirt as she starts toward the gate, and I can’t help watching her go. She’s so fucking sexy. I tear my eyes away and grab my duffel, then follow her and lock the gate. I’m careful to keep a safe distance between us on the way to my truck. But as I step into the parking lot, suddenly my heart’s beating in my throat. Because even in the dim streetlights, there’s no mistaking the white BMW parked across from my truck.
My feet stall on the pavement and Addie slows next to me. I hear her inhale sharply when she notices why I’ve stopped.
“Whose car—” she starts in a whisper, but I give her a subtle shake of my head and she stops.
I force my feet to start moving and discover Addie thinks one hell of a lot faster on her feet than I do.
“Thanks for opening the cage for me, Coach,” she says, her voice just loud enough that anyone lurking close by will be able to hear. “The extra swim really helped.”
My feet stall again and I turn to find her moving up the walkway toward the front of the school.
She gives me a wave. “See you at practice tomorrow.”
I don’t respond. I can’t, because all kinds of images of tomorrow are springing to my mind—holding her, kissing her.
Things I can’t do with her ever again.
As I watch her form retreat into the dark, another materializes at the foot of the path back toward the pool.
Deanna stalks toward me, a skeptical smirk decorating her face and her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “A little late for a swim, don’t you think…Coach?”
I turn and start toward my car again, because if I don’t move right now, my panic is going to freeze me solid. “She missed a lot of pool time with her concussion. She’s a driven kid…trying to get back in condition so she’ll be ready to play when the doctor clears her for contact.”
Deanna skips up to my side and at the word “contact” her eyebrow raises. “So this little evening swim has nothing to do with why you left me half-naked at my house last week?”
I shake my head and try to look annoyed rather than let her see the dread filling my gut. “What are you doing here, Deanna?”
She shrugs and lowers her gaze. “Working late. Had some paperwork to finish up.”
My intestines tie themselves in a knot around my stomach, wondering how long she’s been here and what she saw. “So you’ve been, what? Hidin
g in the shadows and spying on me?”
Her eyes lift back to mine. “I was just coming out of the gym and saw you locking the gate. You walked right past me on your way down here.”
I can see it in her eyes. She had suspicions after the night we brought Bruce home and she hoped to catch me doing something I shouldn’t be with Addie. If she’d been a few minutes earlier, she’d have me dead to rights.
“Listen, Deanna,” I say as I reach my truck and click the locks. “It’s been a really long day and all I want right now is a hot shower and to crash, so…” I gesture to her car. “You’ll be okay getting home?”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re lucky it was me, Marcus. If anyone else had seen you alone in the pool cage after hours with a female student…” She trails off and leaves me to fill in the blanks.
“It was nothing, Deanna.” I yank the door open and climb into my truck. “See you tomorrow.”
I drop the truck into gear and peal out. A chill fingers up my spine when I think about how close I came to getting caught with my hands all over Addie. I’d be risking enough if she were just some random girl I met. But I’m her coach. I work for her school. If Deanna decides to make a big deal about this, any hope I have of teaching is gone. I’ll be lucky not to land in jail like Caiden.
I can’t take that risk.
But the knot in my stomach isn’t only because of the close call. It’s because my hands shouldn’t have been on Addie in the first place. She’s just a kid. Christ, she’s still a virgin.
After everything that Blaire went through at Addie’s same age, I can’t believe I even touched her. I’m not going to put Addie through that. I have way too much respect for her.
I haul myself out of the truck when I get home and head to the shower, where I brace my hands against the cool tile and let the water run over me. But instead of washing away all my guilt over the memory of Addie’s body against mine, I feel it all over again—the trickle of water droplets, warm at first, then hotter as Addie grinds herself along my erection; the taste of her mouth, sweet and hot, as she devoured mine; her skin, so soft and warm under my hands, the slow spread of wildfire under my skin as her roaming fingers trailed over my body.
I open my eyes and glance down at my growing boner. Who I’m falling for doesn’t seem to be the only thing out of my control. I’ll have to figure out a way to tame that before practice tomorrow.
Because what I know from the way I’m feeling right now is, if Deanna hadn’t shown up in the parking lot, I would have taken Addie home. I would have gone into that empty house with her. I would have kissed her again. And I’m not sure her virginity would have survived.
Chapter 16
Addie
Trying to pretend I never kissed Marcus has taken acting skills I never knew I possessed. I’ve spent all week trying to remember how I acted Before Kiss but it’s hard, because that kiss rocked my world and changed my perspective on everything.
How do you pretend the most intense thing that ever happened to you didn’t?
But Marcus doesn’t seem fazed by it at all, so I’m just following his lead. I know why he can’t acknowledge kissing me—after all, we nearly got caught by the gym teacher from hell—but there’s a big part of me that wonders if he truly wishes it never happened. What if he’s feeling none of what I am?
So, more than anything, I’m mortified to look him in the eye. Thankfully, I have a legitimate excuse not to. I swim at the free end of the pool while Marcus runs practice. I’ve slowly worked my time up this week, and so far, no headaches or symptoms. I help run the scrimmages near the end of practice, but Marcus mostly sits back and watches, so I haven’t been forced to talk to him much.
I get home from my daily two hours of torture—ie. being within eyeshot of Marcus and trying to pretend every cell in my body isn’t screaming for his touch—and find a package on the front porch. It’s from Aunt Becky and postmarked from Phoenix. On top is a note that says she’s working her way north and will be home on Wednesday. That gives me six days to get the house and yard together.
The second I pull apart the packaging and see what she sent, I think of Marcus again. Inside is a bag of Boss Hog’s Chocolate Covered Bacon. I’m guessing that would be a new food for his bucket list. But I think the bucket list is off. I set the box on the table and rub my eyes.
I think everything when it comes to Marcus and me is off.
But there never was anything. I kissed him. In hindsight, I’m not even sure he really kissed me back. I have to accept that, whatever I thought might be happening, isn’t.
I thumb through the rest of the mail for a distraction. Most of it is for Becky, but near the bottom is an envelope for Dad. The return address is Oak Crest Memorial Hospital.
It’s not addressed to me. I should leave it in his stack. But instead, I slip my thumb under the flap and pull it open.
It’s what I thought it was—a bill. And the number at the bottom is staggering. I could turn tricks until I graduate college and never pay this off.
But then I notice a payment was made last week. It barely makes a dent, but it’s enough that I can’t imagine where Dad found the money. I tuck the bacon and the bill into a plastic shopping bag and head to the bus.
I’ve called over to rehab every day since I dropped Dad there on Friday, and they’ve told me it would be better if I waited to come see him. He’s been agitated, they say, because he’s going through the roughest part of his withdrawal. But today when I called, his nurse said he was doing much better.
When I walk into his room, he’s in a chair in the corner reading. He honestly looks worse than when he was drinking. His eyes and cheeks are sunken in a face devoid of color. The tremor of the book in his hand gives away his shakes.
When I see what he’s reading, my heart seizes in my chest. Dad was a numbers guy married to a word girl. They say that opposites attract, and in my parents’ case I think it might have been true. When Dad reads, which is seldom, it’s crime novels. Romance isn’t his thing. I’ve never once seen him read anything of Mom’s.
Until now.
He closes her last published novel and sets it aside when he sees me in the door.
“How are you doing?” I ask as I move tentatively forward.
His smile is weary. “Getting there. How’s everything at home?”
“Okay. This came,” I say, pulling the hospital bill out of the shopping bag and handing it to him. I gesture to my face. “I wanted to wait until I looked a little better to go out applying for jobs, but I’ll start looking this week.”
“You don’t need to do that. We’ll figure it out.” He pulls the bill from the envelope and whistles through his teeth, then his brow creases. “Did you already pay part of this?”
I feel my eyebrows go up. “No. I thought that was you.”
He shakes his head. “Maybe it’s some kind of adjustment. Or they might have written part of it off.”
“Maybe,” I say, but that doesn’t sound right. It says “cash payment” on the item line. But there’s no sense arguing it right now. “Do you know how much longer they’re going to keep you here?”
“They say I’m doing well, though I feel like the living dead most of the time, but it could be anywhere from another week to maybe three, depending on how everything goes. But Becky should be home any day now.”
I hold up the shopping bag in my hand. “She sent something for us. Said she’d be home Wednesday.”
“Oh, yeah?” he says glancing at the bag, but there’s no enthusiasm behind it.
I pull out the package of chocolate covered bacon. “She found this in Phoenix.”
He takes it from my hand and reads the label. “What will they think of next?”
He pulls the Ziploc open and takes a whiff and his face goes from ashen to green in a split second. Before I even know what’s happened, he’s dropped the bag and is running for the bathroom. I cringe as I listen to him heave over the toilet.
I grab the bag of ba
con from his chair and reseal it, then tuck it back into the shopping bag so it’s out of his sight. “You okay, Dad?” I ask, even though it’s clear he’s not.
He rinses his mouth in the sink and comes out. “Sorry. My stomach’s a little unpredictable. The meds they have me on are kicking my butt.”
I nod and decide not to mention that it’s probably just the withdrawal.
He settles back into his chair and I sit on the end of the bed. “How are you liking it?” I ask with a nod at Mom’s book.
He lifts it and flips it in his hand. “I can hear her in her characters. I never realized how much of herself she put into these stories.”
“Do you know what she was writing when…” I trail off when I feel a ball of emotion starting to choke off my words.
He shakes his head. “We never really talked about her work,” he says, his words a cloud of regret.
“I have her laptop. I’ve read the first few chapters. It opens at Ashford Castle.”
His eyes lift from the book to mine, but he doesn’t say anything.
“That was the best two weeks of my life,” I say. “It was great that Mom was just with us, you know? Not writing or lost in her own world.”
He nods slowly as his eyes glisten with moisture. “That was a good trip.”
“What I don’t get is…you seemed so happy. You were all about the food and the wine and I even caught you smiling at each other a few times.”
He rubs a hand down his face in a weary gesture. “We were happy. That was probably the singular bright spot in our marriage since you were born. Once we decided to give up the ghost, it was such a huge relief.”