by Caisey Quinn
I chuckle, kissing her on top of her head. Fuck, this girl makes me chuckle . Skylar is going to give me so much hell. “Just need to set an alarm, babe.”
And I should sleep, I really fucking should. But I can’t stop staring at her. Running my hands through her silky hair and down her smooth back as she drifts to sleep in my arms. Because she’s mine now. So utterly and completely mine. Even though I’m an undeserving bastard.
I’ve parted her, broken her, filled her, and stared into her eyes as she came. Surges of pleasure and possessiveness have me hot and tense, so I push the covers away and let the image of her naked body burn itself into my retinas until I pass out.
“Dang girl, did you guys get any sleep?” Corin asks as I walk into our room after class.
“Mmm, a little.” This must be what it feels like to be a zombie.
“Well, you have the glow of someone who just got spectacularly laid, but the dark rings under your eyes say you could use a nap,” she informs me.
There’s nothing I can do to stop the grin that sneaks onto my face.
“Yeah, like I said, must’ve been good,” she says.
Part of me wants to rehash every detail just to remind myself it really happened. But I can’t even imagine speaking the words out loud to describe what Landen and I spent the night doing to each other. “It was,” is all I say.
She shakes her head and grins back at me. “I’m glad your first time was nice for you.”
“Me to. It so was.” As was my second and third time. I’m still all warm and tingly when I remember the position I put her in last night. “Oh God, Corin. I’m such a crap friend. I felt so horrible about sending you off alone with Skylar knowing…what I know.”
She rolls her eyes and gestures for me to sit next to her on the futon. I notice that Pitch Perfect is paused on the screen, and I laugh. She made so much fun of me for being obsessed with it, and now she’s addicted too.
Synchronized lady dancing to a Mariah Carey chart-topper is not lame!
“It was fine. We talked, and he was…understanding,” she tells me with a sly little smile that says there’s more to the story.
“Wait. You told him?”
“Yeah. I mean, he wasn’t like super excited about it, but like I said, we talked. We kind of bonded, I guess you could say.”
“Traumatic experiences will do that to you,” I mutter.
She shrugs. “Yeah, um, we didn’t bond quite like you and Landen obviously did.”
My face warms, and I take a deep breath before settling into the cushions. “It was kind of…a long time coming, you know? I mean, I pushed him out of my mind for so long that it just seemed natural to push him away. But…”
“But he won’t be pushed,” she finishes for me.
I nod, grateful that she understands. “Do you think I’m crazy?” I’m worried my changes of heart can’t be counted on one hand since Corin met me.
“Who the hell am I to judge you?” she asks with a sad smile, the one that hints at shame in her past. Maybe we have more in common than I initially thought. She’s wrong—we’re not opposites. At least, not completely.
“It just seems dangerous, and kind of scary, and so unlike me. But I’m tired of being afraid, you know?” I shrug, but my own words stab me in all me weakest places. “I want him, and life is short.”
“Uh, yeah, and he obviously wants you too. But he might be able to resist you tonight if you show up to the game looking like a corpse.”
She’s right. I need sleep. It’s still a few hours until the scrimmage. After casting a longing glance at Anna Kendrick on the screen, I struggle to my feet. “Wake me up in an hour?”
“How about two hours?” Corin suggests.
“Yeah, okay. Sleep is my friend.”
Collapsing onto my bed, I grab my phone so I can set an alarm in case she falls asleep, too. I am not the only one who appears to have been up all night. When I unlock the screen, there’s a text.
Can’t stop thinking about tonight.
Heat sparks in my center, flowing outward until the darkened room is nearly glowing.
Me either. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you play. I’ll see you at the arena.
His response takes a few seconds so I go ahead and set my alarm.
Yeah, that too. Rest up. Might be a long night.
Oh Lord, help me, this boy. And I’m wet just thinking about him, but I’m sore too, so hopefully he’s not completely serious. Definitely going to get some rest just in case.
~FUTURE TENSE: Used to mark an event not having happened yet but expected to happen in the future. Or that tense feeling you get when you let yourself have hopes of a future in spite of everything.~
We’re lining up to be announced individually when I catch sight of Layla and Corin coming down the bleachers out of the corner of my eye. My girl is carrying a humungous Coke and stepping carefully down the metal steps, looking even more radiant than ever. Thoroughly fucked looks so damn good on her. It’s a struggle for me to remain still.
Even from far away, she feels me watching and turns to look. Grinning like an idiot, I wink and nod at her, warming at the way she grins back. I can tell even from here that she’s blushing. Looking for the entire world like she knows something secret and special about me. Because she does. She knows what my mouth feels like between her legs, how my dick fits perfectly inside of her, and what flashes in my eyes as I come…inside of her.
For a second my knees threaten to go weak beneath me, but a sharp elbow in my side rips me out of my fantasy. “What the piss, man?” I hiss at Skylar as the booming voice on the PA system begins announcing our names and positions. I won’t give him the satisfaction of rubbing my side to ease the sting, but I’m getting his ass back later.
“You were having a wet dream so I thought I should wake you.”
After the scrimmage ends, Corin and Layla wait for us outside of the field house. I’m feeling pretty damn good, because even though I didn’t outscore Taite, he only beat me by one goal. It’s a hell of a lot better than I’ve been able to do in practice, so I’ll take it.
Corin is smiling at Skylar like they have a secret, though he admitted they didn’t sleep together. Now I’m kind of wondering what they did do, especially when he puts an arm around her like it’s the most natural thing in the universe. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him be affectionate with a girl unless he was trying to get her number to schedule a hook up.
“Landen, you want to explain what this is all about?” Layla barks, yanking my attention to her, not that it wasn’t headed there anyways.
“What is it, babe?” I ask, leaning down to kiss her on the mouth. Because I fucking can.
But her lips are barely responsive, and she’s holding a copy of the soccer media guide like it’s a dead animal. She thrusts it at me and I read the page containing my picture.
Perhaps Southern California State’s greatest acquisition this season is Landen O’Brien, who turned down offers from several professional teams to walk on as the team’s second string striker.
More shit about me moving around a lot because of my dad, and so on. Oh hell. “Yeah, it’s my bio.” I shrug like it’s no big deal. “I didn’t write it. The media chick did after she talked to my mom.”
“Ryan Landen O’Brien, you better start explaining yourself right now,” she demands, glaring at me with everything she’s worth.
“We’re gonna give you two a minute,” Corin says, pulling Skylar away.
As Skylar passes me, he leans in and whistles low. “Guess the honeymoon’s over, huh?”
I wait until they’re out of earshot and adjust my bag so it blocks their view. “I was going to tell you.” Except I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.
“Tell me what?” she says, leanin
g away from me in a way that causes me actual physical pain. “That you turned down God knows how many scholarships and a chance at your freaking dream to walk on at SoCal?”
Yeah, it sounds kind of nuts. Because it is.
I rub my eyes like I have a headache, but really I’m just stalling for time and trying to think. Maybe I should just lay it all out there, Layla’s Aunt Kate be damn. But then the devil on my shoulder whispers, “Tell her just enough.”
Stepping close enough to smell her sweet scent, I inhale sharply and gather the courage and breath I need to explain. “Don’t be mad, okay?”
Layla doesn’t move or blink or do anything to indicate if she’ll be mad or not so I go on.
“I had already turned down a bunch of scholarships, planning to go pro with a team out of Ecuador. Then I found out you were moving out here on your own, and I was…worried. And I wanted another chance. So I called and tried to go back on turning them down, but they’d already given the scholarship to someone else. So I came as a walk on.” I shrug like it’s not a big deal at all, like it doesn’t tell her exactly how crazy-stalker-ass in love I am with her. “In the spring I’ll get another formal try out, and next year I’ll be on scholarship. I get some assistance because of my dad’s military service, so my tuition is covered. I worked a lot in Colorado and saved up. I can pay for the dorm, fees, and books until summer semester.” She’s biting her lip and tears are welling up in her eyes faster than I can figure out how to make them stop. “Layla,” I say softly.
“So it wasn’t fate after all then,” she says quietly, looking down at the program as I hand it back to her. “It was planned.”
“Hell yeah it was fate,” I tell her, reaching out to lift her chin and look into her eyes, hoping to keep those damn tears from falling. “It was fate that my dad got moved to Hope Springs and you were there, like you were waiting for me. It was probably even because of fate that you missed the bus and needed a ride that first day. Or maybe that was my fault. And it was damn sure fate that made you see me as someone worthy of your time and attention, because I can’t imagine what the hell else it could possibly be.”
A smile curves her full lips and I exhale in relief. Jesus. Disaster fucking averted. For now, anyways. “The last two weren’t fate, Landen,” she tells me, coming closer and letting me wrap an arm around her. “The last two were all you.”
She lifts up on her tiptoes and gives me a gentle brush of a kiss that leaves me hungry for more. I deepen it, sliding my tongue against her teeth until she lets me in. Dropping my bag, I wrap both arms around her and kiss her long and hard.
Whistles and catcalls ring out around us as the rest of the team comes out of the locker room, but I could give a shit. Let the jealous bastards look. But Layla pulls back and grins sheepishly up at me, her cheeks going pink. Her swollen lips and glazed eyes have me wanting to grab her up and run Superman-style to her dorm, but we have plans to hit the diner with Skylar and Corin. And I promised my girl a milkshake.
So I huff out my disappointment, pick up my bag, and offer her my arm as we walk towards our roommates. “Ready for that milkshake?”
“I’m not going to be able to hold my food down if you two are going to be eye-fucking each other all through dinner,” Skylar says before she can reply.
“Sucks for you,” I tell him with a shrug. Layla giggles softly beside me. We’re following Skylar and Corin down University Avenue towards the diner when Layla tenses beside me. My body is so attuned to hers that I almost grab her, anticipating the spasms, but glancing over I can see that she’s trying to look casual. She’s staring straight ahead. Her shoulders are stiff and her mouth’s trying to turn down in that way it does just before she starts chewing her lip off.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper into her ear.
A tiny shiver pushes through her, and I grin because I love that I’ve always had that effect on her. “W-What if I’d been awful to you when we saw each other again? What if I’d just shut you out, like before? What if you gave it all up for nothing?”
But she hadn’t. “That’s why I came. You could shut me out from across the country, but good luck shutting me out when we live in the same zip code.”
I expect her to laugh, but she stops walking and turns to face me as soon as we reach the diner. Round, stormy eyes wide with concern look up at me…and I nearly fall in. “But you gave up your dream. Why would you give up your dream of playing overseas to come here and risk me being a total bitch?”
“Hey,” I say sharply, nodding at Skylar to go on in without us. “Don’t ever say that about my girl. My girl could never be a bitch to anyone.”
“Landen, I’m serious,” she says, growing impatient with my stalling techniques.
“Shit, Layla, what do you want me to say? I missed you. I wanted another chance, and I took a risk. Because that’s what you do when you care about someone.” I shrug like she isn’t the first person besides my mom I’ve ever cared about. “I couldn’t let things end the way they did. I needed you to know how I felt, and I knew once time passed and we both got over how things went down, there would still be that…that, thing between us. Those feelings. We weren’t ready to be what we needed to be for each other in high school, or the universe wasn’t ready for it. But universe be damned, because I’m done fighting the way I feel about you.”
“And how do you feel about me?” she asks, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, which draws my attention to her legs sheathed in tight denim.
“Hmm, how do I feel,” I murmur, remembering those smooth bare legs wrapped around my waist as I sank myself into her luscious heat.
“Landen!”
Smiling, I look up and pin her with my predatory glare. “I feel like I could buy you milkshakes forever and ever if it will make you happy. A lifetime supply, on me.”
The correct response would be for her to laugh, to nudge me and say she might take me up on my offer. But Layla’s never done what I expect. She winces like I’ve said something hurtful. Then she swallows hard and forces a smile onto her face. “Corin and Skylar are waiting.”
“Whoa. Let them wait. Tell me what the hell is wrong.”
“Nothing,” she whispers, and I can hear the effort it takes her voice to leap over the lump in her throat.
“Tell me,” I say, making a grab for her arm as she turns away from me to go in the diner.
“Wait, I have another question,” she announces suddenly.
My neck nearly snaps at the abrupt change of pace. “Okay, how about you answer mine and I’ll answer yours?”
“It was nothing. I’m fine. Just a nice thing you said, that’s all.” She waves her hand, and I want to call her on the bullshit, but I’m kind of curious to know her other question.
“Whatever you say. What’s your question?”
She eyes me. “How did you know I wasn’t going to UGA? That I was coming to SoCal?”
And there it is. That other damn shoe. The one I’ve been expecting to drop since she let me kiss her in the alley. This is it. The opening to tell her everything. And I should man up and do it, I really fucking should. But maybe the Colonel was right.
Maybe I am just too damn selfish.
“It’s called the Internet, babe. And the magic of texting. Cam and DW kept me up to date on what was going on with everyone,” Landen says as we walk into the diner. The milkshakes are okay here, thick and sweet but not as rich and chocolatey as Our Place, the diner back home where Landen took me on our first date.
I’m still trying to process the fact that, even though we hadn’t even spoken to each other in over eight months, Landen gave up his dream of going pro to come here and try and get me to give him another chance. He took a risk, he said. I’ve never taken a risk of that magnitude, so I’m having trouble understanding why he would do that.
When our c
heese fries and shakes arrive, Corin is laughing hysterically at something Skylar said, drawing my attention to him. He’s cute. Maybe if he weren’t sitting so close to a perfect specimen like Landen, a girl might even call him hot with his perfect smile and dark curly hair. But he might as well have “player” stamped on his forehead. Corin seems to know this already, so I don’t comment. Not like I’m an expert anyways.
But our waitress is a petite brunette and her tiny white uniform is a size to small. I don’t miss Skylar noticing, but Corin pays no attention. Just as I’m about to kick the goalie under the table for being a rude jerk to my roommate, Landen nudges me. “What?” I murmur, tilting my head toward him as I watch Skylar memorizing every detail of the waitress’s ass.
“He’s doing it on purpose,” Landen says, barely loud enough for me to hear. “To make her jealous.”
I blink. “Seriously?”
At that Landen laughs, and Corin and Skylar both look up at us. “What’s so funny?” Skylar barely manages to peel his eyes from the waitress to ask.
“Layla’s getting upset because you’re working so hard to get Corin’s attention.”
“Nice, man. ‘Preciate it,” Skylar snarls before shoving a handful of cheese fries into his mouth. “Fucker,” he mumbles through his full mouth.
Corin rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but she’s blushing a little. Blushing. Corin. It’s like we’ve entered an alternate universe.
“Well I hardly think undressing the waitress with your eyes is the way to get Corin’s attention,” I huff, still annoyed.
“It’s okay. I can get her number for you, if you’d like,” Corin offers with her I know a secret grin.
And now I feel like an idiot for getting upset on her behalf. If she knows what Skylar’s doing and doesn’t care, then there’s no reason I should be all worked up about it. I can’t figure out what kind of game they’re playing, but I’m glad things aren’t as complicated with Landen and me. Well, they weren’t until I found out five minutes ago that he came here just to be with me. I should probably be cracking under the pressure or something, but somehow I’m not.