I threw a curveball, and the moment my arm reached the follow-through and released the ball, I knew I’d fucked up. White pain tore through me with violent intensity. I let out a hoarse cry, and then the pain reached a peak so intense that my arm went numb. Black flashed in front of my eyes, and white noise blotted out the screams and cheers from the crowd.
Once I could hear again, I heard Coach calling for a time out. I didn’t know who was on base or what happened to the ball after the batter had made connection. Sweat poured down my face, and my cheeks were twitching from the intensity of my grimace.
“Get Collins,” Coach shouted when he reached my side. I barely paid any attention as the backup pitcher took my place and Coach herded me back to the dugout. “Take him to the team doc and get him checked out.”
Someone guided me to the locker rooms where our field medic was waiting. “Can you lift your arm for me?” he asked. I couldn’t remember the dude’s name.
I did as he asked but could barely lift it over shoulder-height. He repeated the directions, asking me to turn my arm wrist-up and move my arm back and forth, but I couldn’t fully do as he asked. He palpated the shoulder, and I nearly punched him in his face.
Sometime later, one of the assistant coaches loaded me up in their sedan and took me to the hospital. I could barely pay any attention. It wasn’t so much the pain as the growing realization of what that one mistake could mean for my future.
I was numb through the initial assessment. They did an ultrasound and had me move my arm again as they looked at different ligaments and tendons. I knew it was for-real serious when they recommended me for an MRI. It couldn’t merely be a pulled muscle. My spirits sank. The expression on the assistant coach’s face—or rather the lack of one—told me all I needed to know.
* * *
A pounding came at the door.
“Open the door, Tripp. I know you’re in there.”
I glanced up from the movie playing on the TV and considered getting up to open the door. In the past week, I hadn’t moved from the couch other than to get more food from the kitchen or use the bathroom. There wasn’t much need to. I was on leave from school until after my surgery, and I didn’t have practice to go to anymore, so what was the point?
“You have three seconds!” came Ember’s voice through the door.
Frankly, I was surprised she hadn’t shown up sooner. She’d texted to check on me at least once a day, but I hadn’t known what to say to her, so I hadn’t answered.
The ice pack on my shoulder had turned to water, so I got up to refill it. Keeping my shoulder iced or under a heating pad were the only ways to stave off the ache that never seemed to go away. Sometimes, I could swear I felt it in my dreams.
“One! Two! Three!”
What was she going to do? Breath through the door? I doubted it. She might be a force of nature, but a linebacker she was not.
A little too late, I remembered that I’d given her a key in case I locked myself out. Cursing, I shuffled awkwardly to the door, but she had it open and was slipping through before I could latch the chain lock.
“Really, Tripp? Can’t answer a text?” Her green eyes were bright as emeralds. Nose wrinkling, she looked around me. “Good God, it smells like a frat house in here.”
“If you’re not going to clean, then get out.”
Turning away from her, I went back to exchanging my mushy ice pack for a fresh one. I slapped it on my shoulder and reclined back on my nest on the sectional couch, which was now covered in dirty clothes, old takeout containers, and a remote…somewhere in the cushions.
“Tripp,” she said, and her voice was so full of compassion that it made me want to hurt things.
“Don’t start.”
“Please talk to me.” She sat down on the couch next to me despite the junk covering every available surface. “I want to help you.”
I scoffed. “What are you gonna do? Fix my shoulder? Go back and win the game for us? C’mon, Em, there’s nothing you can do to help me. Just leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere. If cleaning is what you need, then I’ll clean.”
I didn’t answer that. She could do whatever the hell she liked. I wasn’t going to stop her.
We ignored each other while she picked up trash and dirty clothes. I pretended not to notice her and closed my eyes in protest. If she wanted to waste her time, whatever. I wasn’t her daddy.
When she was done, she sat down beside me, but I didn’t acknowledge her. I knew that if I did, I’d break.
Another knock came at the door, and I cracked open an eye. It was some guy I didn’t recognize. “Hey,” he said to Ember. “I was at your place, but your friend Charlie said you were over here.” His eyes darted to me. “Are you ready?”
“I can’t go out tonight. I’m sorry. I meant to text you.” She lowered her voice. “He’s still a little down. Raincheck?”
“For you, anything. I’ll text you.”
“Okay, bye,” she answered, but I could hear the smile in her voice.
Since when did she have a boyfriend?
Chapter Seventeen
Ember
The twins fell asleep with surprising ease. They weren’t even awake long enough for Tripp to wish them good night. The one night when I could use their bedtime to clear my head and organize my thoughts, and their lights were out in less than ten minutes. Why do they always do the exact opposite of what I want them to? It’s a conspiracy. It’s like they know.
My heart was thundering as I closed the door to their room and headed back down the hall. This wasn’t going to be easy, but it was necessary. Doing the right thing had allowed me to survive thus far. And cutting things off before they got too complicated was the right thing.
Wasn’t it?
I reached the end of the hallway. “We have to talk,” I said clearly, though inside I was shaking.
Tripp got to his feet from where he was reclining on the couch. “Uh-oh, that sounds ominous. Come here. The twins get to sleep okay?”
Why did he have to be so damn nice? I went to him, taking a seat by his side. I hoped he couldn’t tell how nervous I was. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Even though I kinda did.
“I know what you meant.” He held up a finger to my lips before I could respond. It stopped me short—like it always did when he touched me. It only made me want him to touch me more. “I bet I can guess what you’re going to say.”
Bewildered, but at the same time not really surprised, I blew out a breath. He always seemed to know what I was thinking before I thought it. It was unnatural. “You do?”
He nudged my shoulder and said with patient exasperation, “C’mon, Em, how long have we been friends?”
To be honest, it felt like forever. “A long time.”
“I bet you’re thinking we were crazy for sleeping together. That a friends-with-benefits relationship could never work between us. That you’re worried it’ll mess everything up. The twins should be your priority. Am I wrong?”
He wasn’t, which was what made it so infuriating. Was I really that easy to read? Apparently, not for him. “No,” I admitted. “But you can’t say you don’t understand where I’m coming from.”
Instead of answering, he gripped me by the arm and guided me to my new room. I could have stopped him if I wanted, but I offered no resistance. Carefully, he shut the door behind us. The click of it closing made my heart stutter. This was why I had avoided being alone with Tripp for all those years. It was easier to deny his effect on me when it was dulled by having other people around.
Funny how I’d never actually been able to admit that to myself before now.
In my distracted state, Tripp was able to maneuver me to the bed. But I couldn’t let the growing sense of intimacy deter me. This thing between us had to stop.
I managed to say as much out loud.
Or, at least, I thought I did.
“I understand where you’re coming from.”
Tripp nudg
ed my shoulder, pressing me inexorably back on the bed. He stretched out beside me, his long, lean body blocking out the yellow light from the bedside table. Shadows painted his face, accentuating his cheekbones and sending thrills down my spine. He stole the fright right out of me.
“You do?” Well, shit, that breathless note in my voice didn’t help my argument. “You know I have to think about what’s best for the girls.” My protests were weak.
He scribbled secrets on my skin with the tips of his fingers, drawing gooseflesh to the surface. He knew my body as well as my mind. And just like that, all the thoughts flew out of my head. I let him lift my lips to his with the slightest pressure from a hooked finger. His mouth brushed over mine with easy comfort and the devastation of a natural disaster.
The contrast of his implacable body to his soft lips made me forget myself. His mouth nibbled at mine—no hesitation, no self-doubt. His focus was one hundred percent on me. Tripp’s confidence had always astounded me. What must it feel like to always know exactly what you want?
Even more, how did a girl react when that certainty was focused entirely on her?
Sweat gathered in the deep of my lower back as his tongue enticed my lips to part. With light, easy pressure, it rubbed against mine. I couldn’t help it. I moaned into his mouth, the sound needy and urgent, even to my ears.
One kiss wouldn’t hurt.
Would it?
And I let him. God help me, but no one kissed like Tripp Wilder. He made me feel like I was the only woman in the world.
I deepened the kiss, letting him slide a muscled thigh between my legs. The weight of him came over me slightly, a welcome shelter. I wanted more. That was the problem. I wanted too much.
I’d talk to him.
I would.
I just wanted to be with him for a little longer. It seemed that when it came to Tripp, I’d always want more.
And that was terrifying.
I broke away, exhaling heavily, and already missing his lips on mine. “Tripp, wait.”
His lips moved to my neck, biting softly, and then moving to my ear. My weak spot. Was there a link between that spot and my G-spot? It certainly felt like it. Maybe Tripp just knew all my spots.
He stopped. It shouldn’t surprise me that he did. Tripp was nothing if not kind and considerate. I hated to think about Chris at a time like this, but he wouldn’t have taken me pumping the brakes so well. I should have realized it back then—I had wanted to please him so much that I hadn’t given myself enough respect.
Tripp didn’t ever make me question myself. He respected me enough for the both of us. This friends-with-benefits arrangement was for my comfort. I was fully aware that he would have been all-in ages ago if it weren’t for my own reservations.
He tucked me close to his side. “Talk to me.”
“I’m…I…” Words failed me.
Noticing my struggle, he said, “How about I talk, then? And you can tell me if I’m off base or not.”
I unstuck my tongue long enough to mumble, “Okay.”
“I know you’re worried about your sisters. We wouldn’t be friends if you weren’t the caring, slightly neurotic person you are. I’m guessing something happened today?”
I shouldn’t be surprised. He always knew. “Doesn’t this break the rules? Emotional chats aren’t exactly one of the benefits in our rules.”
“Friends come before the benefits,” he answered without hesitation.
If hearts were made to beat, mine was beginning to feel like it was meant to beat for him.
I couldn’t meet his eyes, especially not after that revelation. “I lost the twins at the grocery store today.” Even saying it out loud made my stomach tie itself in knots. “For a second, I thought my mom had found them and taken them. It made me realize how vulnerable they are right now. I can’t afford to be selfish.”
“And I make you selfish.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “You make me feel a lot of things.” There. That was neutral.
His mouth moved to my ear again. “Do I make you feel good?”
Was I imagining it, or was my temperature legit rising from his words alone? “Yes,” was the most articulate response I could formulate.
“Hmm,” Tripp murmured, licking my ear again. He eased back, and I caught myself reaching for him.
“How are they?”
My brain ground slowly as I tried to remember how to string words together. “Honestly, they were mostly fine after I found them. They thought it was like hide-and-seek, I think. They were more upset that I was so upset.”
“Scared the shit out of you, huh?” His hand rubbed up and down my back. The tension that had filled me while I had been thinking of losing the twins melted away.
“Totally. But it made me think…what if I’m not ready for this? I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
“I’ve never known anyone more ready. You’re incredible, and you don’t even see it. I think you can handle anything.”
He sounded so sure of himself. Of me. “I wish I had that much confidence in myself.”
“I’d be worried if you weren’t more concerned. It’s a big deal, I won’t deny that. But I think you’re doing a better job than you give yourself credit for.”
“Thanks.”
“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about, angel?”
“Basically.”
“Let me guess. You wanted to punish yourself for making a mistake. A mistake most all parents make at one time or another. You thought you didn’t deserve something good in your life as a result.”
That couldn’t be right. He was making it sound like I was some sort of martyr.
But I wasn’t, was I?
“I’ve been watching you—in a non-creepy way, I promise—for as long as we’ve been friends. You always put other people before yourself. Your friends. Chris. The girls. Your parents. It’s admirable, don’t get me wrong. But you also deserve to pursue your own happiness, too. That’s all I’m saying. So, I guess the question is, what makes you happy?”
There was a long, tense silence as his words echoed throughout the room.
When I didn’t answer, he said, “If I’m one of the things that makes you happy, Em, for once in your life, be selfish.” He continued after a breathless pause, “Do you want me to beg?”
Tripp Wilder.
Begging.
For me.
Was this real life?
I imagined it for a moment, him kneeling in front of me. The image wasn’t completely unbearable. But I’d never make him do that. “No, I don’t want you to beg. And you shouldn’t have to keep having these talks with me.”
“What are friends for? Besides, everyone needs a shoulder every now and then. Even you.”
“Especially me, these days.”
“You aren’t infallible, Ember.”
“You are,” I said, finally lifting my eyes to meet his. “You always seem to have an answer.” I squinted my eyes in false accusation. “The right answer. Are you a mind reader? In all seriousness, thank you for being so understanding.”
“Listening and communicating are parts of the rules,” he said sagely, crawling over me like a cat, all lazy and utterly confident, the ruler of me, if not everything else. His knee nudged mine open, and in one fluid movement, he was on top of me, settled between my legs like he belonged there.
And maybe he did?
That was almost as frightening as my parents abandoning us. What if Tripp wanted to be there for me? Maybe that’s why I never let him.
Pushing the thought away, I said, “I don’t remember the listening part. You should remind me.” My hands lifted to his muscled shoulders, stroked over them, then pulled him fully over me. There was nothing as delicious as his weight pressing me into the bed.
He kissed me leisurely until my head began to swim. “Then we’ll have to add it to the rules.”
I almost said, “What rules?”
“Change the rules? I
s that allowed?”
“For you? Always.” His gaze was too serious to be teasing. I knew without equivocation that he was serious. He may have been a flirt, but when he said something like that, something that had meaning, he meant it to the core of his being.
Unable to help myself any longer, I brought my mouth to his. Going too long without kissing him was a deprivation I wasn’t prepared to combat. He sank into me, mouth and body, and it felt so right that I didn’t care if it was wrong or selfish. Any lingering doubts I may have had were obliterated.
If he asked me again what made me happy…
The answer would be him...without question.
Chapter Eighteen
Tripp
A red haze filled my vision, and I blinked several times, confused.
I didn’t think I’d gone to a party with Alex. Coach forbade any sort of drinking during the season. The punishment was worse than the worst hangover, and no player on the team would risk the wrath of the others if caught. Mostly, they tried not to get caught, but this year, I knew I had to play it safe.
Which made waking up in a strange room all the more perplexing.
I shifted, and soft, full curves filled my free hand. The memory of the previous night returned with them. Ember.
It shouldn’t have been physically possible for me to get hard. We couldn’t have gotten more than a couple of hours sleep, and my body had reached a level of exhaustion I’d only felt during the worst days of summer conditioning.
Regardless, my dick didn’t care. Ember was my little spoon, and there wasn’t a breath of space between us. My legs tangled with hers, which meant my dick was pressed firmly against her ass and happy about it. Those curves? My free hand was full of them.
Sweet Christ.
My hand contracted reflexively, and I froze. Her nipple had beaded up against my palm. This was foreign territory. Much as I’d like to tease Ember awake, then fuck her senseless despite how bone-deep tired I was, this wasn’t a boundary we’d discussed in our brief but satisfying arrangement. The hell was a guy supposed to do?
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