Breathing For The First Time
Love On Deck Series
Book Two
Mary E Thompson
Copyright © 2013 Mary E Thompson
All Rights Reserved
ISBN-13: 978-0-9899954-1-2
This is a work of fiction. All characters, businesses, locations, and events are either products of the author’s creative imagination or are used in a fictitious sense. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Other Titles by Mary E Thompson
Love On Deck Series
In Front Of Me, Book One
Available Now
Breathing For The First Time, Book Two
Available Now
Learning To Love, Book Three
Available October 1, 2013
Finding Home
Available October 29, 2013
Wait For It
Available November 26, 2013
More Than Adopted
Available December 24, 2013
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue
CHAPTER ONE
Brooke
I’m not very good at waiting. I guess it’s my nature, but patience is not a virtue I possess. And here I am, forced to wait even longer.
I’ve been lusting over Tyler Anderson for seven months. When we started grad school last semester at University of South Carolina, I was instantly drawn to him. We were study partners from the beginning, but there something else there. Then I found out about his college girlfriend.
But now the girlfriend is out of the picture. Tyler broke up with her over Christmas break. A part of me felt bad for her, but I knew it would work in my favor. I thought Tyler would ask me out right away once he got back to school from his home in Texas, but he didn’t. A small part of me didn’t want to believe I ruined a relationship, but the bigger part of me wanted to be with him.
The connection we had was obvious from the beginning. We talk like old friends, and I feel like I’ve known him forever. When he shook my hand the first day, introducing himself as my new study partner, it sent shivers up my arm and through my entire body. I’d never felt that before, especially from something as innocent as a handshake.
Every moment we spent together was building a relationship that we weren’t supposed to have. He was attached, unavailable, but we were sharing pieces of ourselves we never shared with anyone else.
One night we went out to a bar with some other friends in our psychology program. Tyler and I ended up spending most of the night talking. Paige Stack, one of my two best friends from undergrad, had just left my apartment. She and her boyfriend, Dante, stayed with me for a few days while a hurricane passed through Charleston, South Carolina, where they live. I was sad that my friend had just left, but it bothered me more because I knew things would never be the same between us.
Tyler asked what I meant. I said, “I love Paige, and I want her happy, but I know Dante is becoming a more significant part of her life than I ever was. They are just starting to date, but it’s clear how in love they are. A part of me is jealous, not that they’re together, but that I don’t have someone like that in my life.”
Tyler looked at me for a moment. He reached over and pushed a strand of my blonde hair away from my face before lifting my chin to meet his crystal blue eyes. I saw such compassion in his eyes and it took my breath away. I almost forgot where we were, especially when he said, “I’d give anything to be that person.”
It took every shred of common sense and self-control to not kiss him that night. I knew he had a girlfriend, and even if he felt it was over, it would still be cheating. He needed to talk to her.
After that night, our relationship was a careful balance of getting close to each other but staying behind the line we both so desperately wanted to cross.
But now, that line is about to be behind us. Tyler finally asked me out, and I said yes. We’re going out Friday night which means I have two days to obsess over it. And to be patient. And I’ve already admitted how I do with patience.
Yeah, I could have asked him out before now, or even suggested going out tonight instead of waiting two more days, but we have a midterm tomorrow, and I’ve been a chicken. We’re not studying today, although I wish we were. I guess I’ll just have to muster up some of that patience I’ve never had.
*******
The last 48 hours have been the longest of my life. Tyler did that on purpose. He knows me well enough to know I don’t wait well. In our psychology class this semester we’ve been talking about anticipation and how looking forward to things helps people enjoy them more.
Tyler used that to his advantage.
But now, date night is finally here. Tyler will be here in an hour to pick me up. He remembered my love of baseball and got us tickets for the Gamecocks baseball game. Baseball has always been my favorite sport. Growing up, I played softball and am a big Braves fan, mostly thanks to my dad. I think he hoped I was a boy, but he recovered quickly when I arrived. Being an only child meant I had to be the girl my mom wanted and the boy my dad wanted at the same time.
I jump in the shower to start getting ready since I went for a run earlier. The hot water soothes my muscles and steams some of the tension from my shoulders. Even though my midterm was yesterday, I’ve been stressing about it all week. Now that spring break is officially here, I can relax. An evening out with Tyler will be a great way to do just that.
When I step out of the shower I wrap a towel around my head and another around my body. I’m not going to dress up since we’re going to a game. I find a pair of jean shorts and slip them on. My garnet top, our school color, is light and flutters around my hips when I walk. The scoop neck is low enough to be sexy but not slutty. I love the cap sleeves, even though I’ll still likely get cold.
I drop my hair out of the towel and pull a comb through it, dragging my straight hair across my back. I flip my head over and run my hands through my hair, tossing it to let the air dry as much as possible. I wipe on lip gloss and mascara then check the clock. Tyler will be here in five minutes. I slide my wallet into my pocket and slip on earrings and a necklace from Paige. I grab my sunglasses, keys, and jacket, and I walk out the door.
Downstairs I cover my eyes with my sunglasses against the afternoon light. I shove my keys in my pocket and turn toward the street outside the parking area. Tyler pulls up as I step out of the lot. He pushes the door open from the inside. I climb into the truck and flash a grin at Tyler.
I take my time checking Tyler out when I get in the truck. He’s wearing a pair of tan cargo shorts, but the strong muscles of his thighs bulge under the fabric. His bare calves let me appreciate the muscles flexing as he taps his foot to the music. His
Gamecocks t-shirt is pulled across his broad chest and bursting around arms I can’t wait to get wrapped in. He has his right hand on the steering wheel, his fingers keeping time with his foot, and his left arm draped out of the window.
When I look to his face, the twinkle in his eyes tells me he was watching me appraise him. A blush creeps over my cheeks and he breaks into a broad grin, his eyes squinting as he smiles. His baseball hat covers his dark hair, keeping it out of his eyes and confirming his allegiance to our grad school. “Do you approve?” he asks me.
I pull the door closed and buckle my seatbelt across my chest. I bite my lip, feeling silly at being caught, but nod and say, “Absolutely.”
He laughs, a sound that makes me melt, and I forget about being embarrassed. I laugh with him and know that this is going to be a great night.
When we get to the game Tyler takes my hand in his, keeping me close while we walk toward the stadium. We cross through the gates and Tyler gasps, impressed by the field. USC puts a lot of money into the athletic programs, and the baseball team has given them plenty of reasons to do so. The new stadium is stunning, and the Gamecocks proved it was worth the investment when they won back to back National Championships a few years ago.
The look in Tyler’s eyes makes my heart jump. There’s a kid inside him and he’s happy to get out tonight. It’s beautiful to see him so excited about this game. He meets my eyes and pulls me toward the concession stand.
Unable to decide what we want to eat, we order a little of everything. Tyler sets all our food down on a table in centerfield. We watch the team warm up while we eat our dinner. When I can’t stuff one more bite inside, Tyler dumps our trash and we go in search of our seats. Tyler scored us great seats behind the Gamecocks dugout, about seven rows up.
When the team is announced we cheer for the players we’ve never met, getting lost in the excitement of the game, and the thrill of our school’s team. Tyler went to LSU for undergrad, but he seems happy to cheer for USC tonight.
We scream and yell with the rest of the crowd, jumping up and down when USC blasts a homerun in the bottom of the eighth inning to take the lead. Tyler lifts me into his arms, pulling me in for a tight hug in celebration. He lowers me to the ground, our eyes meet, and for a second I think he’s going to kiss me.
I hold my breath, leaning in slightly, and my tongue passes over my lips. Then panic flashes across Tyler’s eyes, and he turns his attention back to the game, high-fiving a fan sitting in front of us.
Disappointment doesn’t even begin to describe it.
After the game we walk back to Tyler’s truck in silence. He doesn’t hold my hand, and I can see he’s struggling with something. Uncomfortable doesn’t even begin to describe the drive back to my apartment. He pulls up outside my complex and slips the truck into park. He leaves it running and turns to face me.
There’s a confusion in his eyes that I don’t like. I ask him if he’s okay and the grimace on his face tells me he’s not. He finally nods then tells me, “I’m sorry. I got wrapped up in the game, but I don’t want to hurt you.”
“How are you going to hurt me?” I ask him. I narrow my eyes, unsure where this is going.
He exhales loudly, “I almost kissed you. God, I wanted to. But I don’t want you to think this is a rebound thing for me.”
I reach for his face, pulling him to meet my eyes. “I know it isn’t. I’ve never worried about that. Okay?”
He hesitates, trying to figure out if I’m serious, “Okay.”
“You sure?” I ask him, a smile teasing my lips.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Alright, so how about a drink? I’ll buy if you come up to my apartment.”
I’m not sure who climbed out of his truck first.
CHAPTER TWO
Tyler
I follow Brooke up the stairs to her second floor apartment. I can’t stop myself from checking her out. As we climb the steps I’m given a perfect view of her long, lean legs disappearing under her tiny shorts that hug her perfect ass. I want to touch her so bad.
Waiting this long to go out with Brooke nearly killed me. She’s amazing, and I know how lucky I am that she even bothered with me. I’m not sure I’ll last long alone with her and keep my hands to myself.
I step through the door behind Brooke and take in her apartment. Studying together never gave me the chance to be at her place since we both knew what would happen. Now that we’re dating, there’s no holding back.
Brooke’s apartment is simple, but has definite touches of her everywhere. To the right of the door is a charcoal couch with deep cushions that makes it seem like an old familiar sweatshirt; the kind you love to wear because it’s so comfortable, and never want to get rid of after investing so much time in making it perfect. In front of the couch is a hot pink ottoman with small indents where Brooke rests her feet. Two zebra pillows are piled on one end of the couch with a pink blanket across the cushions. It looks like Brooke took a nap here earlier. She has a large TV, but I’m drawn to her extensive collection of movies and books that flank the TV, overflowing the dozen shelves.
I wander over to inspect her collection, smiling at the variety of her taste. Her book collection includes plenty of school books, but also romance novels, self-help books, business information, and a few mysteries. It’s clear she loves chick flicks more than other movies, but she has a few classics thrown in. Somehow, this is completely unexpected and completely expected from her.
I tear myself away from her collection and take in the rest of the apartment. The walls are modestly decorated, most likely since it’s a rental, with pictures of various campus hot spots such as Williams Brice Stadium, The Horseshoe, and Carolina Stadium, where we just were. She’s collected pictures of herself with two other women, her best friends, Paige and Tiffany, I’m sure. A few candles here and there and a table lamp sporting a hot pink furry lamp shade make it seem like a place she’s really comfortable and happy. Her laptop is stuck under the mirrored side table on the far side of the couch. It doesn’t surprise me that she studies in the living room.
Beyond the living room is a small dining area with a four person table. In the center of the espresso wood table is a pink napkin swirled under a glass bowl full of pink rose petals and silver candles. It looks elegant and simple, just like Brooke.
I follow her to the kitchen. It’s small, but the light oak cabinets, black appliances, and dark laminate counters are clean and almost airy. The sink is free of dirty dishes and the counters are empty except for the wine rack next to the sink. Brooke slides a bottle out and sets it on the counter. She reaches up to a high shelf for a bottle opener and her shirt slides up her side revealing a sliver of creamy skin above her shorts.
My fingers itch to touch her, especially as the bottle opener proves to be just out of her reach. I step in behind her, placing one hand on her waist, my fingers resting on her bare skin, and reach up with my other hand to grab the bottle opener. Being about six inches taller than Brooke has its advantages.
Her milk chocolate eyes flash to mine and deepen to dark chocolate in an instant. For the second time tonight I think about kissing her, but this time I’m not going to screw it up.
With my hand still on her waist I lean into her, less than an inch from her face. “Did you need this?” I ask her, my voice whispering against her cheek.
“Yes,” she answers me, a slight quiver in her voice.
I press a delicate kiss to her cheek before moving to meet her eyes again. I see the same passion I know is reflected in my gaze and I pull her into me for our first kiss.
The instant our lips meet fire shoots through my entire body. My body erupts in goosebumps at her returned passion when she parts her lips and slips her tongue into my mouth. God knows I love a woman who’s going to take control.
I keep one hand on her waist, but move my other hand to her cheek, twisting my fingers into her hair. A soft mew escapes from her, bringing me back to reality.
I release her and take a small step backward, catching the breath she took from me. She looks equally thrown by the intensity of our kiss as she places a hand on my chest, not pushing me away, but not pulling me back either.
I reach behind her for the wine on the counter and raise my eyebrows in question. Brooke nods and turns from me to step across the kitchen. She grabs two wine glasses from a cabinet and I notice her hand trembling as she sets them on the counter. I pour two large glasses of wine, knowing it won’t help my nerves or my desire for her. Brooke asks if I want to sit down and we go to the living room.
Her couch is every bit as comfortable as it looks and I fall into it, feeling a little tired once seated. Brooke flips on the TV and finds the Food Network. We’ve talked about cooking and have both admitted we don’t cook much but want to learn. We’ve talked about taking cooking classes together.
A competition show is on at the late hour instead of one of the shows teaching you how to cook. We get wrapped up in the fight, each picking our favorites as the show progresses. Our wine disappears quickly and I refill Brooke’s glass, setting mine aside so I can drive home later.
I sit back down on the couch, daring to move a little closer to Brooke. We’re leaned toward each other and I drop my hand over hers. She immediately wraps her fingers through mine. I look to her and see her watching me. I lean in and kiss her again.
Brooke’s response is sudden and refreshing as she slides closer to me, keeping our lips and fingers locked together. My free hand settles on her bare thigh, pulling her even closer until she’s lying down on her couch.
I settle on top of her, feeling the quickened pace of her heartbeat as I cover her with my body. Her hands begin to roam, rubbing against the soft hair on the back of my neck before pulling at my t-shirt. I prop myself up and oblige, pulling my shirt over my head.
Her eyes pass over my chest and I let her look. She looks back to me with a glimmer in her eye that makes me laugh. Her face splits into a grin and I tell her it’s her turn.
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