Interception (Distraction #3)

by Angela McPherson

  "Nothing," she said, glaring. Then, "You hungry?"

  "I could eat, but not until you tell me what's going on."

  "Fine, sit down." She ripped into the white paper bag, then tossing two burgers on a paper plate, shoved them in front of me by the bar.

  Seriously, what the hell happened to her? I roamed over every inch of her body for signs of injury. Didn't find any, her skin smooth and intact. No bruising around her wrists, her neck… my eyes zoned to her lips. Had he?

  "I'm sorry," she said, now sounding defeated. Her shoulders slumped forward.

  Sorry? My arm weakened, and I turned cold. I stepped around the bar, standing in front of her.

  Elle looked up, her green eyes hard. "Ugh!" She turned her face away from me.

  "Okay, you've got to give me something, Spud." I lifted her chin. "Or I'm gonna go hunting for a soon-to-be deported, and quite possibly dead, Irish dipshit."

  Her expression smoothed, but my favorite part? The grin pushing her lips up at the corner. "Sit and eat." She pointed to the bar. "Then I'll tell you."

  I raised a brow.

  "Promise." She pecked my lips.

  "All right." I sat, and she continued to stand, half of one hamburger on my plate gone while she picked at her bun, saying nothing. I caved. "Enough of this shit. Tell me something 'cause the silence is getting to me."

  She sighed, looking anywhere but my face. "Rixon kissed me tonight. Well, he tried to, but I slapped him before he got the chance."

  One, that was damn sexy. I grinned at the vision of her hand swinging across his arrogant mug. Two, I was gonna beat his motherfucking ass for touching her. "Come again?"

  She glanced up at me through her lashes, face tinged red. "I told him I wasn't interested, but he didn't, or wouldn't, get it through his thick skull."

  I seethed. "I want every detail."

  She cringed but nodded once. When she finished, I felt lighter, happier than I had in a long time. Odd, considering she'd spent the last hour talking about hanging out with Rixon, all their conversations and shit. The bastard didn't respect boundaries, though I had no qualms schooling him. Again.

  "You can't go crazy," Elle said, apparently interpreting my thoughts.

  "I'm confronting him, no doubt."

  "Tristan, I–" She sighed. Dark circles outlined her eyes. "Please be careful. I don't want anything happening to you."

  I pushed back from the bar, meeting her on the opposite side. "He went too far. Fuck, he pushed the envelope that night at the club, and he obviously hasn't let up."

  "I know, Tristan. And he does, too."

  I crossed my arms, grinding my jaw.

  She shoved my shoulder. "I'm serious. He knew I would tell you about tonight. I told him we don't hold secrets between us."

  "Damn straight."

  Elle rolled her eyes then yawned. Cutest fucking gesture. "I'm glad you didn't unhinge." She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she'd had since we were kids.

  "What's the problem?" I stared at her lips, tracing them with my thumb. "I hate knowing he's–fuck it." I threaded my fingers through her hair and slammed my lips down on hers.

  Elle fisted my shirt, just as desperate to feel me, and moaned against my insistence. Slowing the pace, I sucked her lip between my teeth, grazing the bottom as I pulled away.

  "Sorry," I admitted. "Couldn't stand the thought of his lips on yours, and I sure as hell don't want the attempted kiss to be your last thought before going to sleep."

  "Thank you." She yawned again, exhaustion from overworking herself: the coffee shop, the last semester of school, the paper, all of it was wearing her down.

  "Spud, you need to rest. You're gonna get sick." I ran my thumbs under the shadows below her eyes. "Let's get some sleep."

  "I am tired." She sneezed. "Ugh, must be getting a cold."

  "It's settled, then. Let's get you to bed." I popped the tension in my neck. "Rixon usually at the paper first thing?"

  "Most of the time," she said with hesitation.

  "Good. I'll pay him a visit before I head to practice."

  "Please, don't do anything crazy." She draped her arms around my neck. "Seriously, I don't want you getting suspended or doing something to cause scouts to look the other way during draft time."

  I grinned. "You think I'll get picked up?"

  "No doubt, Daniels. I've heard good things about you." She poked at my chest.

  "Oh, yeah?" I teased.

  "Mmhmm. Word is, you've got a pretty good shot at scoring." She licked her lips. "In a few different areas."

  This Elle, the confident woman she'd developed into, was sexy as hell. "Gotta say, Spud. I like the way that sounds."

  Her eyes watered as she fought another yawn and lost.

  "All right, as much as I hate to turn down make-up sex, we need to get some shut-eye." I glanced at the clock on the microwave. "It's after one."

  "Okay, but when were we fighting?"

  I grinned. "Not us, but I figured aggressive sex after you were pissed at someone else would definitely be something I'd like to participate in."

  Elle giggle-yawned and shook her head. "Have to take a raincheck." She squinted, wiping the water escaping at the corner of her eyes. "On the aggressive non-make-up, make-up sex." She leaned in and kissed my nose. "Sadly, it sounds like too much of a workout for tonight."

  "Damn." I inched my hand up the inside of her thigh, loving the tremor I caused.

  Elle threaded her fingers with mine, halting the seduction. "Besides, I can't keep my eyes open anymore. Let's go to sleep."

  I stifled a growl of frustration. "Sounds like a plan."

  Elle

  Tristan woke me with a congratulatory breakfast in bed. A few innocent sneezes came first.

  He frowned. "You sure it's just a cold?"

  I stretched my arms and smiled. "Yes, I'm positive." I gestured to the food. "What's this for?" More sleep needed to become a priority; I couldn't afford to get sick.

  "Gotta keep up your strength." He winked. "Champ."

  "Ha! I don't plan on taking any swings today." The air conditioner blasted out a burst of cold air. A tickle in my throat wouldn't let up, and I coughed to hamper the itch. Tristan must have gotten hot after his run. Shit, you could hang meat in the bedroom. I pulled the blanket up to my shoulders to keep warm.

  Tristan slid the tray of food closer to me. "Eat up." He buttered my toast while I picked at the scrambled eggs. I caught a whiff of pepper and sneezed again.

  He handed the buttered toast over with a frown. "You sure you're not getting sick?"

  I sniffed. "Nope, just the pepper. Are you eating with me?"

  "Already did."

  "Why didn't you wake me?"

  "I tried, but you never moved."

  "Oh," I said, wiping butter from my mouth.

  "Don't worry about it." Tristan kissed my forehead. "Eat. I'll be back." Tristan left me to eat in quiet. I finished the extra-strong coffee, and my stomach groaned as if I hadn't inhaled a plate of food.

  Tristan laughed on his way back in.

  I slapped his arm. "Not nice to spy."

  "I made extra, give me a second."

  "Thanks." I must not have slept well; my muscles ached.

  Tristan came back with another helping. "We should invest in cattle before we have kids."

  Tristan's cut-off T-shirt exposed lean, muscular arms, not to mention the nice peek-a-boo of washboard abs. Normally I'd be hungry for him, but the longer I sat in bed, the stuffier my head got.

  "Did you hear me?"

  I glanced up. My eyes watered, and I sneezed again. "Sorry, what? Cattle? For what?"

  "Their metabolisms are bound to outshine ours."

  "Funny guy today, aren't ya?" I flipped the covers back and slowly made my way to the closet.

  "I gotta get going." Tristan followed behind me, leaning against the doorjamb. "You sure you're feeling okay? It's supposed to be warmer today." He nodded to the sweats I'd chosen in order to
keep warm.

  "Yeah, just cold." I walked past him to the dresser. "Why'd you turn the air down so low?"

  "Um, didn't touch it."

  I rolled my eyes. Such a worrier. "I'm fine, just a cold or something. I'll be okay. Besides, your focus should be on tryouts tomorrow."

  He gave me a worried look, but conceded. "All right, see you later." Tristan headed out, and I followed shortly after.

  A few of my professors kindly asked me to leave when I continued coughing up half a lung. After morning classes, I felt like I'd worked out with heavy weights in my sleep. Every joint stiffened, and I didn't want to walk, much less move.

  Alyssa found me next to my car, bent over and holding my ribs while coughing. "First thought was to yell at you for binge drinking in the daytime without me."

  I peeked up at her with a glare.

  "But clearly, you've proven to be the good girl."

  "Shut up." I stood, wiping my nose with the tissues I'd stuffed in my pocket.

  "You look like shit."

  "Love you, too, asswipe."

  Alyssa glanced over her shoulder, then back. "You're sick. Get your ass home."

  "Ugh, I'm on my"–cough–"way." Another cough.

  Alyssa hid half of her face with her shirt. "I'll call you later, but not until I've showered in Lysol."

  "Ass." I yanked the car door open and climbed inside, more than ready to head home. I caught the tail-end of Alyssa's "Feel better" before the door closed.

  By the end of the evening, the stuffy nose had progressed. Tristan slept on the couch, even after the argument of wanting to take care of me. Sweetheart that he was, him being sick didn't sound like fun.

  "Combine tryouts are tomorrow. You can't afford to get sick." I shooed him away, silently begging him to agree so I could close my eyes. After mumbling something about stubbornness, he finally left.

  Fever and a killer headache kept me under the covers and out of class Tuesday and the day after.

  Tristan slept on the couch, even after the argument of wanting to take care of me. Sweetheart that he was, him being sick didn't sound like fun.

  Mid-week, my phone dinged, and had the device not been next to my head, I wouldn't have checked the message. Every time my eyes drifted shut, Alyssa or Mom or Tristan interrupted. I was convinced they'd hidden a camera somewhere.

  Since Tristan is back in town I sent him to pick up more medicine. Your mom is hounding me to check on you. I love you, but I don't do sick. I'm here… if you REALLY need me. ;)

  My chest burned from a wheezing cough accompanying the laugh. I texted Alyssa back: It's fine. Head is stuffy, and my body is dying anyway. See you at my funeral. Say nice things.

  Insert pissed off face! Don't be dumb. Not funny!

  Another coughing fit racked my body. I replied quickly. STOP making me laugh! Hurts too bad. I'm going to sleep. Do NOT TEXT ME! … love ya.

  I waited for her reply before shutting the world out for as long as possible, hopeful to be healed the next time my eyes opened.

  Alyssa's message popped up. … fine.

  I didn't bother pushing the phone away, but I did silence the ringer. My eyes closed, and I passed out.

  What felt like only minutes after shutting off the ringer, the mattress dipped. "Baby, you okay? I tried calling you a hundred times." A shiver rolled through me when his icy hand pressed against my forehead.

  I groaned, chills rushing all over my body. Every place the goose bumps touched caused pain.

  "Spud, you're burning up."

  "Shhh," I pleaded, burrowing deeper under the comforter.

  "I'll be back."

  The bedroom door clicked shut, and I drifted back to sleep, but not for long. Tristan's loud footsteps bounded in an hour later. "Got you an appointment in thirty minutes. Spud?" He rubbed smooth circles on my back.

  "Do I have to go?"

  "Sit up and take these."

  Slow as a snail, if not slower, I lifted my head, cringing every bit of the way up. Pressure against my eye sockets throbbed, adding to the agony in every other part of my body. I plopped three pills in my mouth and sipped the ice water Tristan handed me. "Thanks," I said and wished I hadn't. My throat burned as if I'd drunk hot tar.

  "Shower's running; should be warm by now," he said, brushing the hair from my cheek.

  I nodded, refraining from speaking. Every step leading to the steamy shower took effort. Inside, I settled under the hot water for a good fifteen minutes before Tristan interrupted.

  "Hurry up. You're going to be late."

  "I'm almost done," I lied. The longer I delayed getting out, the better I felt. Guess the meds added with the hot water worked. I hurried through the rest, got out, brushed my teeth, and dressed in less than five minutes.

  "Your hair's wet," he scolded.

  "I'll be fine. Let's go." I hesitated by the front door. "Where are you taking me anyway?" I'd seen the campus doc once in the four years attending college. Pretty good track record, considering how sickly I used to be as a kid.

  "Mom has a friend who's a doc here. She made a call and got us in." Tristan glanced at his phone. "We're gonna be late, hurry up."

  "Not sure how I feel about you being so pushy." I planted both hands on my hips.

  He smirked. "You can make it up to me when you're better."

  In the car, I said, "Is sex the only thing you think about?" I gave him a weak smile.

  "When it comes to you"–he winked–"absolutely."

  Strep throat and the flu kept me in bed and under Tristan's supervision for another couple of days. Tristan, apparently, was superhuman. The doctor tested him, and the results came back negative. Couldn't complain too much, the homemade chicken noodle soup almost made suffering high fevers, body aches, and a stuffy head worthwhile. Almost, though I enjoyed breathing through both sides of my nose.

  "How'd I land such a great guy?" I poked my head through the kitchen doorway, watching Tristan clean up.

  "Don't know." He tossed the towel on the counter. "Lucky, I guess."

  "I'm gonna take a quick shower. Gotta make up a few assignments."

  He nodded. "Sounds good."

  The hot water soothed the muscles I didn't know existed before I came down with the all-consuming flu. Floral shampoo filled the steamy room. I'd never take for granted my ability to breathe again. My shoulders relaxed under the water as I finished rinsing conditioner from my hair.

  The squeak and groan from the door opening, followed by the click when it latched, made my insides jump. A second later, Tristan joined me, his large body filling the tiny space. "About done?" Tristan leaned his head under the water.

  "Um, yeah, let me get out of your way." Why the sudden nerves, I had no idea. Too sick to indulge in intimacy for a week may have had something to do with it. My body needed a break and the rest of my antibiotics, not sex.

  As I stepped out of the shower, my breath hitched. Soapsuds moved over Tristan's chest and down his stomach. My breath caught. Before I changed my mind and jumped my boyfriend, I jumped out.

  When I heard the water from the shower shut off, my towel slipped, and I pulled it tight, tucking the top around my chest when my cell rang. I slid my thumb across the screen to answer the call. "Hey, Mom."

  "How're you feeling?"

  Tristan snuck behind me, pushing wet hair away from my shoulder. My eyes closed, and I cocked my head to give him better access, heat coursing through my veins.

  "Elle. Are you going to answer me?"

  Mom's voice pulled me to the conversation. "Oh, um, feeling better. Yes."

  Tristan's chest rumbled with quiet laughter. Jerk! Oh, but he hadn't finished playing. His hand snuck in between the towel, loosening the knot at the top.

  "Stop it," I chastised, tightening the towel and moving to the edge of the bed.

  "What?" Mom asked.

  "Sorry, Mom. That was for Tristan, not you." Tristan leaned down, but I pushed at his naked chest.

  "So you are feeling better?"
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  "Yeah, almost back to normal."

  Tristan bent to his knees, a wicked gleam in his eyes. A jolt of desire made my pulse dance.

  "You're coming up for the weekend, right?"

  Tristan skated both hands up the back of my calves, eyes locked with mine as he massaged his way to my thighs.

  "Um, yeah, sure, Mom," I said, voice squeaking.

  Tristan's brow quirked.

  "Honey, your voice sounds scratchy."

  Tristan pushed my thighs apart, planting kisses and tiny licks on his way up. My chest went wild when his hot breath hovered over the sensitive area between my legs. Tristan yanked, pulling me closer to his mouth.

  "No-no, I'm good," I panted, gripping the phone with one hand and fisting the sheets with the other.

  "If you say so?"

  Tristan licked between my folds, nearly undoing me. I bit my lip to hide the moan clawing up my chest. When he sucked my clit, I lost it.

  "Yes." I licked my lips.

  Tristan's tongue stroked me faster. Somehow engaging in oral sex while talking on the phone with my mother was wrong… though, God, it felt so right.

  "Yes, what? Elle, you sound off. Something wrong?"

  "Uh," I said, my head falling backward.

  "Elle?"

  Tristan's magic mouth action won my attention. "Um, I gotta go. I'll call you later." I hit end, dropping the phone to spread my fingers through Tristan's hair. His delicious torture had stopped before I hit the first wave of ecstasy.

  He poked his head up from between my legs. "What'd your mom have to say?"

  I tugged his hair, pulling his head back. "You're an ass." I leaned back on my elbows, looking down at Tristan. "Let's see if you can make it up to me."

  Tristan untied the knot in my towel, leaving me completely exposed. He slid up my body, grabbing one knee and pulling it up. "I'll see what I can do." Tristan rocked into me and together we moaned. I locked my free leg around his hip the same time he thrust, pulling him in deeper.

  "Faster," I begged, climbing quickly to my release. Tristan obliged, each stroke more forceful than the one before. A minute later his shoulders stiffened, and his movements became jerky.