Moments of Clarity (Moments Series Book 2)

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Moments of Clarity (Moments Series Book 2) Page 3

by J B Heller


  “Carter,” I whisper, reaching one hand out to cup his cheek. It’s rough against my soft palm, and he leans into it slightly. I tilt my head, searching his eyes, there’s something going on in them that I don’t understand.

  He releases a deep breath and pulls away from my touch, “You’re completely right, this makes no sense, but I want it. And I always get what I want, Chance. I’m not afraid to put in the work, so just tell me what you need from me to make this happen.”

  My eyes go wide, “I don’t understand.”

  Carter shakes his head and steps back up between my legs again, “You don’t have to. I don’t fucking understand it, but I’m here trying to figure it out, aren’t I? So, what’s it going to take?”

  I swallow, forcing down the lump in my throat, “Uh,” I drop my eyes away from his intense stare, “For starters, I’m going to need some time to wrap my head around all this.” I can tell he’s nodding without having to look up at him.

  “Done. When you’re ready to talk about it, just come find me,” he drops a kiss to my temple, his lips lingering just a few beats, then he whispers, “I’m not backing down, just giving you space. Find me, or I’ll find you.”

  Then he’s walking away, and I’m staring at that spectacular behind of his, wondering what the hell is happening to my power of invisibility. It must be on the fritz.

  What did I just do?

  I saw Chance going into the photo lab on my way to practice, and I figured if she was still there when I finished up, I’d go in there and finish what we’d started this morning. How fucking wrong was I.

  Now I’m sitting in my car, dick hard as fucking stone. The scent of her is still fresh every time I inhale, and I let it wash over me. My hands ball on my thighs, as I let the memory of her sweet lips pull me under. I want more, I need more.

  I’ve been watching Chance for the last couple of months. She’s way out of my league, I never thought I’d actually get a chance with her, and I’m not surprised she needs time to process, I came on strong. But fuck it, I deserve to get what I want. I’m done holding back. I’ll give her the time, space, and whatever else she needs, but this is happening.

  A loud thump makes me jump in my seat and I glare at Mase, standing next to my window, a shit eating grin on his face. I hit the button to lower my window, “What?”

  His grin intensifies at my tone, “You fucking around with Camera Girl now?” he asks, brows waggling.

  I let out a deep breath, “No. Maybe. I don’t know. And her name’s Chance.”

  Mase starts laughing so hard, he bends at the waist and clutches my window frame for support, “I know what her name is, dickwad. You are so whipped, man, and you haven’t even fucked her yet. Jesus, does she have a magical pussy under those weird skirts she wears?”

  As soon as he’s upright again, my fist launches into his jaw, “Don’t talk shit about her, Mase, she’s different. Got it?” Mase is my closest friend, he’s the only one who knows who I am underneath Carter Cross, future football star.

  He sobers, “For real? Since when?”

  I shrug, “I don’t know. But I’m done keeping my distance.”

  Mase walks around the front of my Everest, opens the passenger door, throws his gear over to the back seat, then faces me, “So what, you’re with her now?”

  Running my hand through my hair I mutter, “Not yet, but soon.”

  His eyes go wide, “Since fucking when do you do monogamy?”

  Again, all I have is a shrug. “I told her I wouldn’t fuck around as long as we’re messin’ around. And I meant it.” What I don’t say, is that I’m pretty fucking sure once I get her, I’ll never let her go.

  Mase throws his arms in the air, acting like the drama queen he is, “Who’s going to be my wingman now?”

  I snort and start to relax, “Like you need a wingman. You just want someone to thin out the flock so it’s easier for you to choose,” I say as I turn the key in the ignition and pull out of the student parking lot. I see Chance strolling across the lot over to her little old-school car in the far corner as I turn onto the street, and smile to myself. Don’t take too long to think about it, sweetness. Patience is not one of my strengths, I think as I drive away from her.

  Mase’s presence effectively deflated my boner when he got in the car, thank fuck ‘cause it made driving uncomfortable. I drove to the gym feeling better than I had in weeks. The weight of indecision has been lifted from my shoulders, and I allow myself to enjoy it.

  Walking into the gym I crack my neck, allowing the music to wash over me, infusing me with adrenaline for my impending relief. Three Days Grace blares through the speakers positioned in each corner of the large rectangular building, with a boxing ring at the far end.

  Mase and I head straight to the locker room to change our clothes and stow our duffels. I roll my shoulders as we exit, “Ready to bleed?” I ask Mase.

  He chuckles, “Are you?”

  I grin, “Fuck, yes,” I say as we fist bump and make our way ringside.

  Ten minutes later, Mase and I are circling each other in the ring. I smirk at him, flashing my mouthguard. He cringes and I chuckle. The design creeps him out, fangs dripping with blood, as if I’ve just sunk my teeth into someone’s juicy jugular. His mouthguards, however, are somewhat less intimidating than my own.

  When he spreads his mouth in a wide smile I drop my head and shake it back and forth, “Superman? Really?” I slur, but it comes out more like, Shluperman? Weely? He just shrugs one of his beefy shoulders, then Trick is yelling at us to get our shit together.

  Trick has been training us since we signed up for his first open class when we were twelve. I have nothing but respect for the man. So, I shake off the small talk and focus on sparring.

  Mase and I are pretty evenly matched, but he doesn’t have my drive. He doesn’t feel damn near euphoria spreading through his veins with each blow he lands like I do. I swear I almost get hard from the high that fighting brings me. Which is usually why I have one of the ballergirls lined up after our sessions, and definitely after an actual fight.

  But I don’t have that now. And I’m not sure Chance could handle me when I’m like this. If she thinks I was intense today, she’s going to get a big surprise when I bring her here.

  Two hours later, I’m so sweaty my eyes are burning from the salty liquid as it seeps between my lids when Trick yells out, “Good run boys, pack it up.”

  We’d moved on to bag work by then, so I swiped a fresh towel from the rack outside the locker room and pushed inside to shower. The hot water soothes the burning ache in my muscles, relaxing them and me.

  I don’t know what I’d do if I had to give this up. There’s no fucking way I can cave. I need it. I need the burn, the euphoria, the exhaustion, that comes from the fight. I’m afraid of what I’m capable of without the release it brings.

  When I get home Bella’s beautiful face greets me with a huge smile lifting her cheeks. And I’m once again reminded why I need the release so bad. I need to keep my shit together around her. I can never risk losing it in front of her, I’d never forgive myself is she saw that darker side of me.

  “Hey, Princess,” I say, as I get out of my car then make my way over to her, waiting on the front steps for me.

  “Georgie made pizza for dinner!” Bells says, bouncing on her toes.

  Georgie is our housekeeper slash Bella’s carer, and I’m pretty sure she loves Bells more than our own parents. A knot forms in my stomach with the thought, but I should just be grateful someone else in this world loves her like I do.

  My lips curve in a half smile for Bells, “Your favourite, lucky girl.”

  She nods, “Yep. The luckiest!”

  If only that were true. Bitterness fills my throat and I have to swallow it down. I refuse to let Bells see it. I wink at her then swing my arm over her shoulder as we enter the house, “You sure are, Princess.”

  Bells is the only reason I still live here. The thought of leaving her alo
ne in this massive house turns my stomach.

  I catch sight of the taillights of Carter’s fancy SUV as he leaves the parking lot, and smile. What have I done? Whatever it is, I’m both excited and terrified about it. I should have just told him to take his talented tongue and leave me the hell alone. But I didn’t, couldn’t.

  My fingertips graze my lower lip, thinking about the way he sucked on it not half an hour ago. He’s got some serious skills in the kissing department, and it makes me wonder just how talented he is in other areas. That thought makes my grin spread so wide my face hurts.

  As I drive home, I think about Carter and the other interests he mentioned. Was he just being kinky or was he being serious? Like, does he have a hobby or something? What kind of hobbies do football players have? I thought football was supposed to be the be all and end all for ballers.

  Parking my Bug in the drive, I get out and try to organise my thoughts as I go inside.

  “Good afternoon, sweetheart, did you have a good day?” Papa calls from his favourite recliner in the lounge room.

  I stop and go to him, dropping a little kiss on his head, “Hey, yeah it was okay I guess. Yours?”

  His bushy brows furrow, “You guess?”

  Shaking my head, I attempt to brush him off, “It was fine, just had a little disagreement with Kass. No biggie,” I smile to show him I mean it.

  “If you say so,” he says, shifting his attention back to the game show he’s watching.

  I imagine the reaction I would have received if I told him I’d stormed the guy’s locker room today and ended up pinned between the wall and an extremely attractive footballer, not once, but twice today. The thought makes me grin and pat Papa’s hand as I walk out of the room, leaving him to his show.

  “Evening, Mumma,” I greet, as I pass her in the kitchen cooking dinner.

  “Evening, sweetheart,” she calls after my retreating form.

  I have a really good relationship with my parents, which makes it easier for me to continue living out of my childhood bedroom while attending college. When people bitch about their parents, I honestly have nothing I can add to the conversation. Papa treats me like a princess, he’s a gentle soul, I’ve never even heard him raise his voice.

  And I think the only thing I could possibly come up with about my mother is that she picks at my clothing choices. That’s it. I got nothing else when it comes to them. We get along, and hell, we enjoy each other’s company. But not Hux.

  I’m not sure what it is, or why, but something in Hux changes every time Papa enters a room. I asked Kass about it when we were about twelve or thirteen when I first started noticing it, but he said he didn’t know. I didn’t bring it up with him again, but I still notice it.

  I tried to ask Hux what it is, but he shuts me down pretty quick when I mention it. My brother is old enough to be my father, so it makes conversations like that a little weird. He’s never treated me like a little sister, not really. Yeah, he’s protective over me, but it’s more than that. He and El treat me the same way they treat Kassidy, like their child.

  Our relationship is complex, I guess.

  Pulling a fresh set of jammies and underwear from my drawers, I have a quick shower before dinner. When I get out I hear Mum calling out that dinner is ready, so I wrap my long, wet strands of hair up in a towel and go out to eat with my parents. Another perk of still living at home, getting to eat my mums amazing meals every night and not having to live of ramen noodles like most of the student populous.

  My weekend has been uneventful, until tonight, when I got some good shots of the moon with Kassidy. It was a full moon so we went out to a paddock on the far side of town that I frequented quite a lot. It’s peaceful and has endless potential.

  I asked the land owners if I could shoot there when I was in high school, and they were more than happy for me to use it whenever I want, as long as when I’m big and famous, their words, I credit them and their beautiful land.

  We took some props with us, like a ladder, a measuring tape, and a couple of big empty rustic photo frames. I’d been wanting to experiment with the moon for ages, it seemed like as good a time as any.

  Kass refused to apologise and I didn’t push it. I’m over it anyway. I’m not one to hold a grudge over petty shit.

  I’d also kept my mouth shut about Carter.

  Now I’m lying in my bed trying to decide what to do about him.

  I am curious, the things he said sparked my interest to find out just who he is outside of Mr. Football God. I can’t stop wondering what else he’s interested in. I’d also like to know when he even started taking notice of me.

  Spending time with him wouldn’t be the worst use of my time. Especially not if it gives me an edge for the shoot. Maybe if we’re friendly, he’ll let me do something interesting, as opposed to the same boring crap you see every day.

  Although, I have a feeling he’s going to get under my skin, and I can’t afford to be distracted right now. I just have to get through these last two months, then it’s time to enter the real world, and I can focus fully on my photography.

  What to do? What to do? Spend time with him, or avoid him like the Great Plague of London? Decision making is not my strong suit. I’m quite possibly one of the most indecisive people around. Except when it comes to my photography, but that’s a no brainer for me. On the other hand, trying to decide what to do about Carter is giving me a headache.

  Why does he have to be so good looking? Not that I’m shallow or anything, but if he was unattractive that would make this a lot easier. At least then I wouldn’t have this crazy reaction to him, making me want to wrap my legs around his shoulders and sit on his face whenever he gets too close.

  I’ve never been so thrown by a guy before. When he’s close I lose all sense of myself. I do things I normally wouldn’t, like kissing him back when he kisses me uninvited. But I can’t help myself. It’s like there’s a force drawing me to him and I have no control over it.

  I huff to myself, this is ridiculous. Why can’t he just be cooperative without being so damn sexy?

  I gave Chance the weekend to figure shit out. Now I’m done waiting. I know I said I’d let her come to me, but damn it, now that I’ve tasted her sweet lips, they’re all I can think about.

  Shooting a text to Mase, I tell him to get her number for me. I’m not sure how he gets shit, but he does, he always delivers. Ten minutes later I’ve got her number and I’m texting her.

  Me:Times up.

  Her:Who is this?

  Me:Who were you expecting?

  I know she will get the reference to our conversation in the photo lab.

  Her:Carter? How did you get my number?

  I smile, loving how feisty she is. Any other girl would be throwing herself at me the second I showed interest, but not Chance, and it makes me like her even more.

  Me:It’s not important. You coming to find me today?

  Her:Undecided.

  Me:I just decided for you. Find me, or I’ll find you.

  I slide my phone into my jeans without waiting for her reply, and make my way downstairs to hang out with Bells before I head to class. I don’t have any practices Monday mornings so it’s Bella time.

  I catch sight of Chance in the distance, and I know she must have seen me before I saw her, because she’s pushing her way through the throng of students gathered in the hallway like she’s running away from something, or someone. Someone like me.

  Sliding my phone out, I shoot her a text instead of chasing after her.

  Me:I see you.

  I don’t expect her to reply, so I put my phone away. This game is actually fun. I’m not usually interested in games outside the bedroom, but this is new to me. Girls don’t run away from me.

  By the time lunch rolls around, I still haven’t heard back from her, but I don’t let it get to me. I know we have the only class we share together after break. We normally sit on opposite sides of the room, but that won’t be happening today.
<
br />   I grin and make my way toward my next class with purpose. I’m eager to see her.

  I stroll into the room and walk straight to area Chance sits in with Scout. “You’re sitting with Mase today,” I tell Scout.

  She slowly turns her head, looking up at me standing beside her, “Excuse me?”

  Leaning down, I wrap my fingers around the back of her chair and whisper in her ear, “Move, now.”

  I watch her swallow and shoot a questioning look at Chance, who shakes her head adamantly. I narrow my eyes at her, then refocus on Scout, “It’s not a request, either you move, or I tell Mase to come over here and get you.”

  She jumps out of her seat, “Okay, I’m going. Pushy much?” she says with a glare.

  I shrug, “You were in my way.” I take her now vacated seat, not bothering to see if she’s going to sit with Mase or just take any available one she can find. Swivelling to face Chance, I smile at her.

  I expect her to continue the avoidance tactic, but I’m pleasantly surprised when she swings her eyes up to meet mine. She eyes me warily, and I allow myself to examine her properly. She’s wearing a black T today that says I like to shoot people and hang them on my walls. I snort when I read it. “Nice shirt,” I tell her.

  Her eyes flick down to her T briefly to check what she’s wearing, then she grins, and damn if I don’t feel awesome for making her smile like that. She’s matched it with a pair of high waisted button up denim shorts that the shirt is tucked into. And a pair of boots covered in Alice in Wonderland characters, the Cheshire Cat standing out the most on the toes.

 

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