by Shey Stahl
Ember’s quick when it comes to masking her emotions so if you fast forward to the end of my question, the look’s gone and replaced with annoyance. “Us. We agreed to help each other out, not complicate this more.” Scooting away from the table, she grabs her bag, yells goodbye to the kids, and then she’s rushing toward the door.
Naturally I catch her before she can leave. Cat sneaks past us and out the door, but I refuse to let Ember get away from me. “I don’t think so.” Pulling her out into the hall, I corner her against the now closed door so the kids can’t hear me. “What’s complicated about us?”
“Everything, Landon. I agreed to help you out because you suck at dealing with people. And things just keep getting more and more intense.”
“Like intense as in feeling intense?”
“No, as in you’re driving me fucking crazy. I think about you all the time because you don’t allow me to think about anything else.”
“So you admit you want me?”
Her finger jabs into my chest. “See, that’s what I mean. And if I move in with you, it’s only going to get worse. Our friendship needs some boundaries.”
“Or none at all,” I suggest.
That earns me a heavy sigh. “Do you just fuck with me because you think it’s funny?”
“No.” I step closer, dipping my head to catch her eyes. “I’m not fucking with you. I wish I was fucking you.”
Beautiful bemused blues watch me. “Why?”
“Why not?”
“I’m not just some girl you can sleep with once and then forget about the next day like all your other conquests. You forget, I’m the one who usually has to let those girls down the next day. What makes you think I want to become one of them?”
“What makes you think you’d be one of them?”
“Why do you always answer a question with a question?”
“Because I can.”
“Listen, Landon. I love you dearly. I’d do anything for you, but I won’t sleep with you because I know where that will lead for us.” A smile tugs at her lips and the Ember I know so well turns up the heat and licks her lips slowly, purposely and with so much goddamn intensity my cock goes from aroused to full-on aching in one second. “You’ll fall in love and I’ll have to break your heart.”
A laugh bubbles in my chest, slipping quietly past my lips, and I push up against Ember, letting her know exactly what she’s doing to me. This isn’t the first time she’s felt my cock hard against her. Happens weekly, but pay attention to what she does next because this, my friends, this is new.
“I’m not like those girls you bring home after a game. I’m not Alessa.” She pushes into me, she slides her hand down my chest and then dips it inside my shorts to palm my cock. It’s not just a palming that happens either. It’s like a full-of-cock grab and slide. That’s a thing, too. Feels fucking amazing. “I’m the kinda girl that if we were together, you’d be begging me for more and screaming for me to stop at the same time.”
I’m speechless. Are you surprised? She has her hand on my cock. Of course I’m speechless. But there’s more to it than that. Let’s pause here for a moment. Again, sorry. I know, awful timing, but I’d like to keep her hand on my cock a little longer and I need to explain something to you. Okay, you’ve seen Gone in 60 Seconds, haven’t you? Right. Silly me. Who hasn’t? Okay, now, you remember Angelina Jolie’s character, Sway, right? She’s entirely too skinny in that movie, but my point is she’s strangely hot given her badass vibe and you fear her just as much as you want to suck on her tits. Actually, wait, I have an even better example for you. Fucking Michelle Rodriquez in Fast and Furious. Hot. Sexy. Little bit villain, but killer body and “don’t fuck with me” attitude. That’s Ember.
I don’t know what turns me on more: the fact that she has her hand on my cock or that I don’t know if she’s going to rip it off or get me off.
Sadly, Ember’s doe-eyed blues give nothing away and she winks, removing her hand, licking her lips and then letting her bottom lip drag through her teeth. “Looks like LC has more going for him than his spiral.” And then she walks away.
I’m. In. Love.
“I’ll take that as a yes that you’re going to move into the guest house!” I yell after her.
Cat’s at her door waiting for her, and during all that, I hadn’t noticed she had been standing there the entire time. “What guest house? Are we moving?” Her surprised eyes drift to mine, and then my raging fucking erection that hasn’t disappeared. “Did you seriously just grab his penis?”
“Cock,” Ember says, wrapping her arm around her tiny dread-locked friend. “It’s called a cock, babe. Penis is for anyone under eighteen.”
Yep. Still in love.
Field Position – The yard line that the ball is on. Many games are won because a team continually has better starting field position.
“You stuck your hand down his pants!” Cat’s face is bright pink as we stare at one another in the kitchen, drinking straight from the bottle of vodka we keep in the cupboard behind the Oreo cookies. Cat reaches for the cookies. Opening them up, she takes out two, then hands me one, keeping the other for herself. “Is he packing?”
“Yeah, he’s certainly packing,” I mumble. Taking the cookie from her, I break it apart and lick the cream off, unable to process what I did. Speaking of cream… shit. Stop it. You’re only torturing yourself more!
I’ve seen Landon buck-ass fucking naked before. He was drunk, limp, and passed out, but still I saw him in all his glory. I’ve also walked in on him having sex, twice, and once in the shower, I walked in and he was taking care of business himself. Shhh. He doesn’t know and he shall never. It’s my fantasy, damn it. Get it out of your head, girl, because I know you’re imagining it now and that fucking treasure nugget is all mine!
“What’s this about his guest house?”
Sighing, I set the bottle down on the counter and slide it across the marble countertop. “The house he’s buying. There’s a guest house and he wants us to move in there.”
She’s confused, her brows drawn together. “But we live here?”
“We live here because Landon pays for it. If he’s moving, he wants me there too because, for some reason, he won’t let me go as his fucking PA.”
“Because he loves you.”
I wave my hand around, then reach for the bottle. “He does not. He wants to fuck me. The only reason we’re friends is because I haven’t given in to him.”
“Ha.” She takes a drink, swallows and then grimaces. “I hate vodka.” She does. I lied. She once drank a fifth and then sang and danced out “Baby Got Back.” That’s also the night we were arrested for “crystalline rocks of solid material” and booked in the King County Jail. I swear to you it wasn’t crystal meth. They were fucking Jolly Ranchers—still in their wrappers—but the rookie arresting officer didn’t give a flying fuck. We spent a day behind bars where further lab tests came back negative and we got to go home. Cat doesn’t drink vodka anymore but sometimes, I like to see if she’ll remember.
So yeah, this was my bottle, not ours, but it sounded better to say it was hers and less like I keep alcohol and Oreos hidden together. Which, I do, so no judgment. Leaning forward, Cat rests her elbows on the counter and makes me look her in the eye. “You’ve been friends with Landon since he signed with the Seahawks. He’s not using you. He trusts you.”
“How do you remember all that?”
She laughs, straightening her posture. “I remember important details. Seriously, what’s our plan then?”
“I don’t know.” And I don’t.
“I really love those kids,” Cat notes, reaching in the fridge for the milk. She then takes a glass and pours herself a cup. Dipping in the first Oreo, she takes a bite, chews, swallows and then smiles a big black toothy grin. “Do I have anything in my teeth?”
Laughing, I shake my head and screw the cap back on the vodka before I drink too much. “Nope. Nothing.” After putting the bottle away, I
motion down the hall. “I’m gonna take a bath.”
“Okay.” Cat grabs the milk she poured and the Oreos, heading for the couch. “I’m gonna catch up on some shows.”
When I’m in the bathroom alone, that’s when I think of Landon, as if it ever left, but it’s then I can fully absorb what I did. I grabbed his fucking cock like I owned it. #mine #backoffbitches #cockgrabs
“Jesus Christ,” I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face, standing in front of the mirror. I stare up at my reflection. “Who are you?” #fucked
Truth is, since I met Landon that day in the tattoo shop and he changed my life, I haven’t recognized myself. I can’t say that in a bad way either because before I met him, I’d never laughed so hard, knew friendship like his, experienced life and understood what it was like to have a family again. I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship by fucking him. Despite knowing it’d be amazing.
Did I cross the line?
Yes, I did. I won’t lie to you. I would fuck Landon in a heartbeat. Look at him! You’d be crazy not to. Women love Landon. They love his undeniable good looks, athletic physique and the image he portrays effortlessly as one of the most admired quarterbacks in the league. While on the field, he maintains that cold ruthless image he paints, it’s off the field I fell in love with him. I’ve seen him invite fans to his table at a restaurant to come sit with him and have dinner. I’ve also witnessed him pay for everyone’s meal in said restaurant before he left without asking for anything. Whether he wants to admit it or not, he’s not your typical star athlete being paid millions to be the gladiator they think he is. He’s unattainable and unlike anyone I’ve ever met. He’s an arrogant douchebag at times, but underneath everything he displays to the media, he’s a good guy.
I wasn’t willing to give up anything. There’s a reason why I keep him at bay. It isn’t that I think I’m better off alone or because Alessa, #passiveaggressivequeen, deserves him. It’s because if I lost him, what would I have then? Aside from Cat and art. Truth be told, Landon brings out a side of me I crave and nothing else provides but him.
My phone rings beside me, and an unintentional smile tugs at my lips. Sliding my finger across the screen, I try my best to sound annoyed. “What now? Don’t tell me you lost one of the kids.”
“No.” He snorts, sounding annoyed himself as I hear a door close. “You know, it’s really hard to take care of the problem you created with a house full of kids.”
I twist my voice to sound sad. “You poor baby.” I’ll come take care of it and we can fuck in your closet. #Ivelostmymind
“It’s all your fault.”
You totally did. “It is not.” I’m not one to admit defeat or take the blame and neither is Landon, so our friendship is fucking weird. We’re always arguing.
“Yes, it is.” See? Told you. He pauses, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Someday you’re going to let me into that tight pussy of yours.”
I know I shouldn’t instigate him, but I do because he’s fun to mess with sometimes. Sitting on the edge of the tub, I turn the faucet on. “What makes you think it’s tight?”
His answer is immediate. “Because you’ve been waiting for me.”
“Ha.”
I can literally hear the frown in his words when he asks, “Ha what?”
“If you think I’m waiting for you, you’re sorely mistaken, dude.”
“You’re gonna be sore after we fuck.”
I’d let it go on long enough. “Where are you?”
He laughs lightly like a kid who’s been hiding. “In my closet. It’s the only safe place.”
“What did I say?”
“When?”
“When you hired me.”
He’s quiet for a beat, longer than I expected and then he sighs. “You said you wouldn’t have sex with me. Or something like that.”
“And you agreed.”
“Because you said you wouldn’t agree unless I agreed.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, I grip the phone tighter. “You agreed to agree.”
Rules can totally be broken.
“I didn’t think you meant it.”
I didn’t.
“I did.” I’m exhausted with having this same conversation all the time.
Landon snorts. “Well, that’s just stupid.”
“What did you call for?”
“To see if we could go look at the house in the morning. I don’t have practice tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I can call the realtor and arrange it.”
Landon lets out a frustrated sigh. “I gotta go put kids to bed.”
#thinkofme
The thought of him with those kids swells my heart in the worst way. “You do that.” And then I hang up on him. I hate that we’re constantly at this point. We’ve been here so many times over the years and I swear to myself I’m not going to let it happen but fuck, he’s so goddamn persistent at times, and it makes me sick to my stomach to even think about him with someone else.
Encroachment – A penalty where a defender is in the neutral zone before the ball is snapped.
Quarterbacks are always in control. At least, that’s the general theory of the position. We want the glory. If we’re passing the ball off, we’re taking the easy way. That’s a fucked-up way to look at it, but it’s how it is for a quarterback. It’s in our blood to control the game and it’s why we’re in that position. The quarterback is the heart of the beast. The guy who takes the fall and is also the leader of the team. For me, I don’t know where that control has gone. It’s like I’ve fumbled the ball and can’t get it back.
You want to know what sucks even more? Aside from being responsible for five other lives overnight. It’s having no control around a woman you’ve been begging to fuck and having an erection while hiding in a closet. It’s like I’m a teenager again and the only escape from my siblings was the attic.
I can’t get Ember out of my head and I need to take care of the problem she created. Look at me there, sitting between racks of Under Armour gear, twenty-some pairs of sneakers and the few suits I have, contemplating how long it’d take for me to take care of this without them realizing I’m gone.
You’re probably wondering where the kids are, huh?
Well, I gave them every blanket and flashlight I own and told them to build a fort. Thought it’d keep them busy for a while. In about five minutes, you’re going to see how very wrong I am, but first, do you see me slipping my hand down my shorts and palming my needy neglected cock and contemplating calling Alessa? The thought makes me groan, and not in a good way. Alessa. She’s the last person I want to call, but at least she’s good at taking care of my needs.
No, you’re done with her, remember?
Right. Back to me. There I am, gripping my cock and getting into it, but my shorts are still on for fear the kids will come in. It’s not like my closet door has a lock. Before you go wondering why I’m not in the bathroom where there is a lock, remember that there’s a teenage girl in my house. Girl thinks she owns the bathroom now. All the more reason for us to get moved soon.
Just as I’m thinking of pulling down my shorts and finishing up, the door swings open and Adler’s standing in front of me with a curious look and eating a bag of Puffs Cheetos. We’re locked in a look of, what the fuck and something similar to me when Oma caught me jerking off to a picture of Britney Spears, pre-freakout Britney.
“Why are you in the closet?” Adler asks, looking at my hand in my shorts, and thankfully he doesn’t notice I’m hard, or he doesn’t know what it means and I’m really hoping he doesn’t. “Do you have to pee?”
“Yeah?” Yep. Comes out as a question.
With a furrowed brow, he reaches in his bag of processed junk food and pulls out another Cheeto, stuffing it in his mouth. He talks with his mouth full as he asks, “Can I have a Coke?”
I scowl at the noises he’s making. In my opinion, there is nothing worse than hearing someone chew their food. “No. Drink water. I don’t have soda
in the house.”
“Yeah you do. Pita bought some.”
“She’s fired.”
“Yeah, right.” He pulls his hand from the bag and licks his fingers, one by one. “Can we watch a movie?”
“Yes. Go pick one. I’ll be right out.”
He leaves, and I’m left there alone, again, but probably only for a moment. Hauling myself up, I stop at the door and lean my head against the frame. What am I doing? This is crazy. All I can think about lately is Ember. Why am I having such a hard time now? We’ve been friends for years and I was always able to ignore it before. Only now… she’s all I think about.
Dragging myself from my room, I make my way to the living room to find the mother of all forts built. They used every single blanket, towel and sheet they could find in my condo which was a lot. I have a sheet problem. I like nice sheets too, and if these little maniacs mess them up, their asses are on the line. I even warn them; obviously they ignore me like I’m not even talking. It’s just like every other day so far in the life of an uncle turned dad.
Sitting down on the couch cushions they have strewed on the floor, I look up at the screen. “What are we watching?”
Haisley looks over at me, her mouth full of popcorn. Jurassic World. Or something like that. It doesn’t sound at all like Jurassic World, but she holds up the DVD case to show me.
I raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a little graphic for you guys?”
A collective, “Nope,” follows along with “shhhhh” as the opening scene begins. Have you seen the opening scene to Jurassic World? I’m not trying to ruin the plot for you, but the dinosaur they created eats its sibling. After experiencing these kids for a day, I could totally see one of them eating their sibling. More than likely it’d be Braylee eating Marley. Or vice versa. Or maybe even Adler eating Haisley. The only one who doesn’t seem to have a sibling rival is Nalani, and she’s too cute for anyone to hate her yet. Give her another year.