The Road To Heaven: A Reverse Harem Contemporary Romance (The Allendale Four Book 3)

by Angel Lawson

“Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

  “I thought maybe we could go on a run together,” he said. “And then maybe talk.”

  Oliver wanted to run. And talk. And he’d come over here at the ass-crack of dawn to do so.

  “I can’t run as fast as you,” I said, eyeing his long, muscular legs.

  “That’s okay. You can probably run farther.”

  I snorted. “Doubtful.”

  I turned to head down the stairs, the same ones Jackson and I had flirted on weeks before. I didn’t tell Oliver to follow, but he did, stepping past me quickly to hold the door for me.

  “How’d you get past security?” I asked.

  “I waited around until someone came in this morning. I’m not going to judge but I think I busted your neighbor on the third floor on the last leg of her walk of shame.”

  I laughed. “Well, we’ve all been there, right?”

  “I don’t recall anything we ever did as shameful.”

  I shook my head. “Then you must have a selective memory.” I pointed to the right. “I usually head down this way and enter the park. There’s a good five-mile loop.”

  “Five?” His eyebrows raised up his forehead. “Okay.”

  Oliver let me set the pace but his presence was undeniable, and it gave me the slightest challenge that was often missing in my runs. We wound through the running trail, a smooth flat surface that divided the old homes and newer construction and tiny coffee houses and eclectic bars. It was early and not many people were out, so over the quiet and chirping birds we fell into a rhythm, breath mingling, sweat pouring. Around mile four, Oliver slowed until he fell off completely and I turned to find him, bent over. I jogged back slowly.

  “Dude,” he said, between heavy pants, “you’re killing me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Stop. I’ve never seen you in such good shape.”

  He’d stripped off his drenched shirt when we entered mile two, tucking it into the back of his shorts. I made an effort not to ogle him, although it wasn’t easy. His broad chest and tapered waist looked like something off movie sets I’d been hired to work on. Like the superheroes he trained. I understood why they trusted his expertise. He had the receipts to prove his worth.

  “Weight lifting and body strength, yeah, but cardio? I’ve cut way back on my carbs and it leaves me a little winded.”

  I stopped before him, shaking out my legs that also felt the strain of the run. His chest heaved with exertion and a small part of me loved seeing him like this—trying to keep up with me.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asked.

  “I’ve never been the healthier one.”

  His eyes skimmed down my bare arms; free from fresh wounds, scars faded. “I’m proud of you,” he said.

  That was the second time one of my guys had paid that compliment lately. I blushed and looked to the ground before saying, “I’m proud of you, too. Your business. It’s amazing.” My eyes flicked to his chest. “And I can tell you work hard to get in this kind of shape. I’m impressed.”

  “I had to give up pancakes,” he said, woefully.

  “Aw. I know that hurt.”

  “So bad.” His eyes lit with humor. “Hey,” he said suddenly, “I know you have a strict no-social media policy, but we do have accounts for the gym. Can I take a photo of us to use on there? I try to put up healthy, active things.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t know. Me and the internet don’t mix.”

  “You can have final approval.” He gave me a pleading look. “Everyone’s been wanting to know who the fifth in A5 Gym is, anyway. Now’s your chance for a big reveal.”

  “No one has been asking that,” I said, shaking my head. But he gave me a pouty face that he knew I couldn’t resist, and I finally relented.

  “Thank you!” He smiled wide, the pout vanishing and his phone appearing in his hand. “Selfie?”

  “Oh, I’m not going to be in this photo alone.”

  “Gotcha.” We bunched together and his left arm slipped around my waist. He held the camera out and snapped a few photos. He looked at them and grinned. “Thank you. Again.”

  “You’re welcome. But if this goes viral or something, please let me know, okay?”

  “It’s not going viral. It’s basically an ad for A5. ‘Hot girl running’ is how I should tag it.”

  “Stop.” I reached for the camera but he slid it into his pocket.

  “I never thought we’d be like this, all grown up and functional.” I rubbed my neck. “I’ve been thinking about it lately. Do you think we could have done that together? You know, like the five of us, together-together?”

  If the question bothered him, he doesn’t show it. He just said, “We’ll never know, right?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “I need to head back but before we go, I need you to do two things for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Hayden is ready to get out like this—take a few easy runs. Can you do that with him?”

  “Yep.” I brushed my hair out of my eyes. “And the other thing?”

  He closed the distance between us and swiftly pulled me to him. Our bodies were sweaty, gross, but my heart hammered being so close to him. He stared at my lips and I watched him stare at my lips, licking the bottom one in anticipation. “You and me? As far as I’m concerned, we’re not finished. I need you to understand that. I’m not playing games, I’m telling you how it is for me.”

  I struggled to speak. “Okay.”

  “So if you want this to be over, tell me. Tell me now and I’ll walk away. But if there’s a chance, the slightest chance, I’m in.”

  His eyes pinned me with such an intensity, such a strength—I’d never seen Oliver like this. He’d grown stronger, not just in body but conviction. I wanted to know more. I needed to. He wasn’t the same person I’d walked away from two years ago. Neither was I. Maybe I needed to give these people a chance.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “There’s a slight chance that I’m not done with you either.”

  His smile was slow and wide, like the sun climbing in the eastern sky. I thought maybe I’d burn from the intensity, but he moved his hands to my face and brought me in for a kiss. A sweaty, smelly, incredible kiss.

  34

  Heaven

  The text took me by surprise. Not because it was 6 a.m. and I was already up and waiting for Hayden at the head of the trail, but because it was from Anderson.

  Oliver got you to break your social media ban?

  Good morning to you, too, Anderson.

  Good morning, Heaven. So…

  Yeah, I let him take and post a photo. He said it would be good for business

  He’s not wrong about that. It got hundreds of likes. And a lot of questions, too.

  I hadn’t looked. Just because Oliver took and posted the photo didn’t mean I had to engage in it. Anderson was being weird. Not just because he was contacting me at the crack of dawn but the simple fact he was engaging me at all. We’d always communicated better this way. Through writing; notes slid across desks. Texts or letters.

  People had questions or you have questions?

  Busted.

  Is this how I get you to contact me? Posting on social media?

  Well, I did consider maybe the apocalypse was looming…

  So what’s your issue? The photo, or me in the photo with Oliver?

  Confession: It’s weird seeing you together like that.

  Confession: It’s weird for me too, but we’ve decided to work through some things. Jackson too.

  Confession: I’m not sure how I feel about that.

  Feel about that or feel about me?

  I waited a beat. Then another. He finally replied.

  Be careful. With yourself and with them.

  A lump formed in my throat.

  I will. I promise.

  I waited for one more exchange—something else, but it never came. He was gone.
<
br />   For the second time, it was hard for me to believe I was in better physical shape than one of the Allendale Four. Athletics had always been their thing and I’d done nothing more than stand on the sidelines. But with Hayden in recovery and taking tentative steps back into action, I felt like an Olympic gold medalist next to him.

  “How’s the ankle?” I asked as we took a break from the jog and walked slowly down the path.

  “Fine.” He flexed and stretched it out.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Swelling?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I looked up at him. “Then why the hesitation? I know you can keep up with me.”

  “I guess I’m worried I’m going to roll it again. Do something to set back my recovery time.”

  “When are you supposed to head back to the team?”

  “June first.”

  Right after Amber’s wedding.

  “So you have another month. That’s plenty of time to get your, uh, footing back.”

  My stupid joke made him smile, even though it wasn’t the mega-watt one that made my knees shake. I was okay with that, though, Hayden had become my safe place. He was taken and that meant I didn’t have to figure out how to navigate my relationship with him the way I had to with Oliver and Jackson.

  “It’ll be fine,” he said, wiping his forehead with the hem of his shirt, giving me a peek at his spectacular stomach. He raised his eyebrows and we started to jog down the path again.

  “What does Sabine think?” I asked.

  “She thinks I need to go back to Atlanta and train there.”

  “Is she right?”

  He shrugged, pumping his arms as he ran. “Like everything else, I’m not sure what’s best anymore. Being back here has been nice, but I still have my passion for the game and I can’t waste my opportunities—well, as long as I have them.”

  We entered a tunnel and I stopped him by grabbing his arm. It was shady under there. Cool but also dark enough I felt like I could talk to him. “What’s going on with you? You’ve always been confident and sure. I know this injury spooked you but you’re doing great. Stop second guessing yourself.”

  “Things are complicated, Heaven. I’ve got so much riding on the next few weeks. Even if I walk back on the field my position may be gone. Sabine…”

  I frowned. “Are things bad with her?”

  “She didn’t like the photos of me and you at the premiere.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “I can, too, but…”

  “But what?”

  His eyes blazed even in the dark. “All of this was easier when I was across the country. Travelling. Busy. But sitting around with too much time on my hands. Being back here—it’s hard.” He rested his hands on his hips. “I didn’t know how hard it would be.”

  I laughed darkly. “Trust me, I know. Allendale is small and stifling at times. I mean, I’m happy here, but sometimes I want to pull my hair out.”

  “Allendale isn’t the problem, Heaven.” His voice was husky. I’d heard it before.

  “Oh.”

  “I know about you and Jackson,” he said. I wasn’t exactly surprised. The guys never kept secrets and I didn’t expect them to. “I also saw you and Oliver coming out of the back hall at RJ’s alone, then a few days later the picture of you two on the A5 Instagram page.”

  “So? What’s the big deal? We’re working through some stuff. Is that wrong?”

  “I just…I--we made a decision, and it feels like the three of you are going back on it.”

  “There were some unresolved feelings, Hayden. I think it’s fair for us to explore them.

  He exhaled, jaw tight, and rubbed his hands in his hair. “Look, I can do this on my own. Jogging isn’t going to kill me and I don’t really need a babysitter.”

  “I’m not babysitting you.”

  “We don’t need to do this anymore, okay?” His gray eyes turned cold, distant.

  “Fine. If that’s how you want it.”

  “It is.”

  “Great.” I couldn’t pretend his words didn’t hurt. But I understood. Too much. But before I walked off I had something else to say. “Relationships take work, Hayden. All of them. Ours. Yours. The Allendale Five. If we don’t nurture them they’ll die and that almost happened to us. But then you got hurt and it brought us back together and god, we’re a total fucking mess. But I’ve come to realize I’m not ready to let this relationship wither, not completely, and if that means I have to let you go to save just a little piece of this, I will.”

  I spun on my heel and took off, actually running away this time. I didn’t care because I wasn’t just running from someone, I was running to someone. Someone that had made it clear what he wanted. Someone I knew was waiting for me.

  35

  Heaven

  I didn’t hesitate when I got to his house, knocking loudly on the door. The place was massive—his parents’ dream home—and Oliver rambled around in it, basically alone.

  It was still early and I knew Jackson often took the morning shift at the gym, training a few of the guys before work. Oliver opened the door in his pajama bottoms and a baseball shirt from Allendale High.

  “Heaven?” He looked over my shoulder. “Is everything okay? Where’s Hayden?”

  Not answering, I took the step up. We weren’t even because he was so much taller, but I closed the gap enough that when I clenched his shirt around my fingers and tugged him down, our faces met.

  “I’m in,” I told him before crashing my mouth to his. He didn’t move at first, shocked at my forwardness. I’d be embarrassed, but I refused. Slowly he responded, hands moving to my waist, pushing me against the door frame. His mouth moved against mine. I felt the sweep of his tongue, the hum in the back of his throat, the bulge in his pants.

  He pulled back an inch but I didn’t allow the distance. No talking. No rationalizing. No thinking. He seemed to get it, pulling me away from the door and slamming it shut. He nudged me backwards and my back hit the granite countertop. I pushed at his shirt but he held down my hands.

  “Not here.”

  “No?”

  We’d never had the luxury of making out in a large empty house. My parents, his dorm room, crowded apartments.

  He lifted me, carrying me in his strong arms while continuing to kiss my mouth, my chest, and neck.

  “You taste like salt.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I like it,” he said, licking my neck. “You were running?” His eyebrow cocked. He continued to walk, winding past a dining room table and down a long hall. “With Hayden?”

  I nodded and pushed my fingers through his hair. I liked being the same height. “I yelled at him.”

  “You did?”

  “He deserved it.”

  I nibbled under his chin. He hadn’t shaved and the hair scraped against my jaw. Oliver dropped me in the hallway, kissing down my neck and shoulders. He pushed at my tank, moving it over my breasts, my shoulders and head.

  I did the same to him, wanting to see him—feel him. His new body that was bigger, stronger. We grappled with one another—different for me and Oliver. We’d always been sweet and sex had been more lovemaking than raw.

  This?

  This was raw.

  With his shirt removed, I ran a hand down his chest, feeling the swell of his muscles, the hard, lean mass, down to the thicker patch of hair under his belly button. Sharp indentions marked his hips and there was never any mistaking Oliver’s cock. Big and thick; eager under the cotton of his pants.

  “You’ve been working hard,” I said, fingering the hair.

  He inhaled sharply. “I needed something to do while missing you.”

  His words jarred me, hitting me straight in the heart. I didn’t want to wait anymore. Why should we? Our hearts knew one another. Our souls merged. And the new differences? I wanted to try them out, too.

  “Show me.”

  “Show you what?�
�� he said, running a finger between my breasts.

  “How much you missed me.”

  That command was all it took, his jaw clenched and his eyes grew dark—full of intent. He pulled me into the nearest room, a master bedroom complete with a massive bed piled high with luxurious blankets and pillows. He’d brought me here on purpose. I knew it. To claim me in his adult bed. We didn’t need stolen kisses in the hallway or to be quiet behind dorm room doors.

  Here we could be whoever we wanted to be. The people we are now, not then.

  We finished undressing, his eyes glued to my body and mine to his. Before Jackson it’d been a long time since I had sex, and I couldn’t help but feel the flutters in my belly every time I looked at the size of Oliver’s cock. Lord.

  He noticed and realization slowly fell over his features. He touched my cheek.

  “I’ll take it slow. Ease in.”

  “No,” I said, reaching between his legs, feeling the hard length. “Don’t.”

  His grin was wicked and he picked me up, laying me on the bed. His mouth traveled up my body, nipping at my skin, wetting it with his tongue. My stomach twisted—craved—hips rising off the mattress, seeking more. His fingers found me first, then his mouth. He kept moving, taking his time with my breasts, dragging his cock along my belly. Eye-to-eye he pushed my arms overhead, cinching my wrists with his hand. Butterflies sprang, nervous at his dominance.

  “Open for me, babe,” he told me, nudging at my knees. They fell open and I felt him between my legs; hard, ready, hot.

  “Fuck me, Ollie.”

  In one swoop he did, pushing past my barriers, hands out of reach. He thrust inside, kissing my lips at the same time. He felt good, so good, and I cried breathy and reckless into his mouth with every push. My knees bent, wanting to take him all the way in. Our chests met, sparking desire.

  It didn’t take much, both of us already tiptoeing along the edge of it being too long, loving each other too much and the sheer want that flowed between us. Biting my lip, I shattered, brain fuzzy, body alive. When he followed, there was no holding back. Oliver gave up everything. His body. His heart.

  I felt it. I knew it.