Butt Ending: A Big Stick Novel 2 (Standalone)

by R. C. Stephens

That was fast. He was right; I barely felt it.

  “Because you hit your head, it’s recommended someone wake you in the middle of the night just to make sure you’re okay,” the doctor says, but he’s looking at Oli as he delivers this information. Oli drapes a hand around my shoulder as if he’s staking claim.

  I step in and say, “No, he’s not my—”

  “Sure thing, Doc. Got her covered.” He smirks, and then looks down to me with an assured nod, almost daring me to say anything different. I hate that I fit perfectly into the crook of his arm.

  “Well, then best of luck, Ms. Carmichael and if you experience any nausea or dizziness, you should return to the ER. Otherwise you’re good to go.”

  “Thank you.” I let out a breath.

  Oli and I head toward the main doors of the hospital. “I just parked around the corner. Let me go grab the car,” he says. Now that I take him in, I see that his hair is ruffled, and his forehead is dotted with sweat.

  “It’s okay. Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it, but I’m sure you’re busy with playoffs . . . I don’t want to be a bother. I can call an Uber,” I offer, and reach for my non-existent phone that I usually have tucked into a crevice in my pouch. “Shit. I forgot . . .”

  “What is it?” Oli’s brows furrow.

  “Nothing, it’s just the asshole who attacked me stole my phone,” I explain. “Can I use your phone?”

  “Shorty, you aren’t taking an Uber. You’re coming with me,” he says adamantly. “Now, wait here like a good little girl and let me go get my car.”

  “Were you at practice or something? Because I hate . . .” I continue to murmur, but Oli lifts a finger and presses it to my lips, officially shutting me up.

  “Shorty!” His tone carries a warning. “There are no options here. You’re getting in my car. I’m driving you home, you are getting some clothes and sleeping at my place tonight,” he says with such self-assurance that every synapse in my body shoots warm electricity. Bossy Oli is damn sexy. The thought of me in his bed makes my blood warm. I want to have a good comeback, but my brain has turned to mush. Damn him and his sexiness.

  “I have to work tonight. I can’t take off, I need to give more notice,” I explain.

  “You’re in no shape to work,” he retorts, meaning business.

  “I have to,” I reply as I begin to feel a dull thud at the back of my head. I rub my throbbing temples.

  “You’re in no shape to work,” he says.

  “Nothing some Advil won’t cure.” I force a smile.

  “He lifts a finger. “No arguments. I’m serious. You’re staying with me so I can take care of you.”

  My mouth opens to protest but he lifts a finger again to stop me, and just like that, I quiet down. Shit! I’m not the type to shut my mouth for anyone, but something about the way he orders me around shows me he cares, makes me feel good inside.

  “I mean it, Sloane. I’ll be back in a minute with the car.” He turns and walks out the sliding doors of the hospital, and my eyes run from his wide shoulders down to his fine ass. I’m not sure I was ever a butt girl, but something about Oli’s fine behind gets me in a twist—the way its sculpted and round. . . I can just imagine him thrusting those hips into me. My headache pulls me from my sexy thoughts and I remind myself how he practically tripped over his own two feet when I told him I was a virgin. Besides he won’t commit so fantasizing about him is clearly not going to get me anywhere.

  Sixteen

  Oli

  Back in the car, I take a quick second to call Flynn, since she was freaking the hell out when she called earlier.

  “She’s good. A couple stitches, a little shaken up, but she’s good,” I reassure my sister.

  She blows out a harsh breath. “Thank goodness. Shit, that was scary,” she says. I had to call Flynn when our parents were killed by a drunk driver when we were eighteen. That kind of trauma lives on inside you and gets reawakened at certain times. I understood Flynn’s concern when the hospital called, because Sloane is more like a sister to her than a friend.

  “Seriously, Flynny. She’s sleeping at my place tonight so I keep an eye on her,” I say, and the line goes quiet. If it weren’t for her slow breaths, I would think she’d hung up. “Flynn?”

  “Is that a good idea?” she asks accusingly.

  I scoff, “Shit! Is there anything you two don’t talk about?” I can’t believe Sloane told my sister about our little interlude when we got stuck in Ann Arbor on our way to Canada.

  “Not really,” she sighs. “Oli, she’s vulnerable and . . .”

  The line falls silent again as I wait to hear what she will say next.

  “Don’t worry. I get it. She’s pure, and innocent little red riding hood, and I’m the mean, big, bad wolf.”

  “Oli,” my sister chastises me. “You’re no such thing. If your head was in the right place, I would say go for it.”

  “Really?”

  “Don’t sound shocked. If you were willing to give up the wild life, then I think you would make a great relationship guy,” she continues.

  I cringe. “Flynny! For fucking real? I’m not looking to settle down. Besides, doesn’t she want some guy named Ryan?” I can’t believe I’m asking my sister about the conversation I heard between her and Sloane back in Canada, but I figure if they think it’s okay to talk about Sloane and me, then the same rules should apply to me.

  My sister lets out a puff of air. “You were eavesdropping.”

  “No. I walked into the house and you didn’t hear me. Who the hell is this Ryan guy anyway?” My irritation builds as I remember hearing that Sloane’s vagina wanted him. I give my head a shake. That sounds fucking weird.

  My sister is laughing so hard she can’t speak.

  “Would you hurry up, Flynn? I need to go.”

  She sighs loudly. “Sloane is going to kill me for telling you.”

  “I won’t mention it to her.”

  "Fine,” she says adamantly. “There is no Ryan. She was telling me what happened between you two and it was weird because you’re my brother, so instead of mentioning you she substituted your name. Fuck! She’s going to kill me, Oli.”

  “That is seriously messed up,” I reply. Sloane’s vagina wants Ryan, only I’m Ryan. Ding ding.

  I blow out a harsh breath. She made it clear she wanted me in Ann Arbor. We didn’t have sex, and now I’m not going there.

  In the background, I hear one of the babies whining. “Go take care of your babies. She’s getting in the car in a sec, and I don’t her knowing that I know this stuff.”

  “Fine, but something tells me you like Sloane as more than a friend. That you watching her tonight is more than a friendly gesture.” She giggles. There is truth in her words.

  I pull up to the ER doors. “Enough,” I order as Sloane enters my SUV. She looks pale. “Gotta go, sis. Kisses to my niece and nephew.” I end the call before my sister has a chance to talk more shit.

  I look over to Sloane. “It was Flynn; she was worried. I reassured her you’re okay. Look, Shorty, I think you need to take the night off work. Just call in and explain. They’ll understand,” I say with my eyes glued to the road. I head into traffic and drive toward her apartment.

  She blows out a breath. “I think you’re right. My head is throbbing. No way I can be my perky self,” she retorts, and my eyes drop to her chest.

  Her lips pursed together, and she squints at me. “Really?”

  I shrug. “That wasn’t my fault. You said the word perky; my mind thought of breasts. The reaction came from my subconscious.”

  She shakes her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

  I laugh. “And you’re adorable.”

  A few minutes later, I pull up to the front of her apartment. “Give me your keys,” I order.

  “Huh?” She looks to me, seeming a little puzzled.

  “I need your keys. I’ll run up and get you what you need, then I’ll take you back to my place. Make you a nice dinner an
d put you to bed.” I grin salaciously.

  “Um no, I’m not sleeping at your place. That isn’t necessary,” she says.

  “Sloane, don’t argue. Let me take care of you, okay? I’m a big guy, and I have a big bed at home that is comfortable for my size. I need to sleep well tonight because playoff season is coming up and my team has a big game tomorrow.” My voice grows soft as the next words come out. “Please don’t fight me on this.” I lean over and brush my thumb along the soft skin of her cheek. I watch as her features soften. She doesn’t make eye contact though, which is fine. It takes a few silent moments before she nods her head.

  “Okay,” she concedes, and drops the keys in my hand. “I’ll need some pajamas,” she says, and I cock a brow, but she ignores me. “I’ll need a pair of jeans . . . those are in the closet. A shirt . . . also in the closet. Socks . . . those are in the bottom drawer of my dresser.” She bites her lip. “And a bra and panties. Panties are in the top drawer and bras in the second.”

  “So, I get to choose which bra and panties you’re going to wear?” My brows rise and fall. Her cheeks turn beet red, and my blood rushes to my dick, making it swell before I can send a signal to him to chill the fuck out.

  “Just grab the first thing you see, Oli. I don’t want you rummaging through my panty drawer like some perv,” she scolds. The apples of her cheeks are a very healthy color.

  I wiggle my brows up and down. “Baby! I’m so pervy, you have no idea.”

  She bursts out laughing and hits me in the shoulder.

  “It’s good to hear you laugh,” I say, my voice turning husky.

  Her gaze turns intense, meaningful. “Thanks, Oli. Thanks for picking me up and doing all this. You really didn’t have to.”

  “I know, but I want to, Shorty.” I caress the top of her head, careful not to touch the area that was just stitched up.

  She smiles, and it does something to me. I don’t know what’s happening. I’m completely out of my element. The only girl I’ve taken care of is my sister. I’ve never wanted to be intimate with a woman in that way. The fact that I’m doing this for Sloane has my mind completely boggled, but then I tell myself she’s a friend and I take care of my friends.

  I head out of the car.

  She rolls the window down and shouts, “Oli!”

  I turn around.

  “There’s a bag for everything on the top shelf of the closet in my room.”

  I nod and head inside the lobby and up the elevator to her apartment. The cool air and distance from her make for a much-needed reprieve. I remember kissing her lush lips. I swallow hard, wondering what I just got myself into. Sloane will be staying in my bed an entire night when I damn well know she’s off-limits to me. My sister’s words ring in my mind. “She’s vulnerable.” I let out a puff of air. I’m fucking screwed.

  Seventeen

  Sloane

  What the hell did I just agree too? I can’t sleep at his apartment . . . in his bed. Maybe he meant the guest room and not his room. My heart picks up its pace, and my already frayed nerves swirl in my stomach. He said he wanted to cook for me. He asked me to let him take care of me. Was I dreaming when he said those words? They felt so good. I’m shocked it took me longer than a minute to cave to his every whim. I’ve lived on my own for ten years now. My mother wasn’t the doting type, and even though my father had the best of intentions for my well-being, his life was dedicated to his parish. I curse not having a phone at this moment, because I want to call Flynn and freak the hell out. Unfortunately, that isn’t an option. Instead, I sit quietly and stare out at the traffic, willing myself to calm down.

  About ten minutes later, Oli returns to the car. “I think I got everything you need plus some extras too.” He winks, and my cheeks flush. My emotions always betray me.

  We head back in to traffic and I lean my head carefully against the headrest so I don’t touch my stitches to the leather, even though the doctor wrapped my head. A quick glance in the side mirror tells me that, as I predicted, I look like shit.

  I look over to Oli. “Can I use your phone? I need to call the network.”

  He places his cell in my hand.

  “Thanks.” I dial the network and speak to my boss, Mr. Heigelmyer. He doesn’t sound pleased at all that I need to cancel for tonight, even after I explain the attack and my splitting headache. Asshole.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Heigelmyer, and yes, I will be at work tomorrow no matter what,” I concede to appease the man.

  Oli’s intense gaze bores into me. A sidelong glance at him tells me his brows are furrowed together.

  I hang up the phone, thinking I did the right thing sending those resumes out this morning before my run. It was always my dream to work for a print paper and not broadcast the nightly news in bizarre ways on a small channel. I want to write about important news, tell stories that move people. I also always wanted to write a novel but I never have the right story to tell. I never planned on wearing donkey hats to deliver the eleven o’clock news.

  “Your boss sounds like a prick.” Oli’s deep voice bites into the silence of the car.

  I turn my head to look at him. “He is. It wasn’t my first choice for a job, but it pays the bills.”

  I watch him for a moment, and something in the gold flecks of his eyes flicker. Is he truly interested in getting to know me? Maybe he is.

  “Writing, my passion is writing. When I first graduated, I had this crazy idea that I’d write a best-selling novel and I’d be able to travel, write, and drink wine.” I giggle. “When that didn’t work out because I didn’t have a story to write, I thought I would get a job writing for one of the big papers in New York. Then I got a mediocre job with a network here in Chicago, and it felt like I was destined to be here. I hoped to one day write for The Tribune or The Sun-Times, only it’s proven impossible, just like it would have been with New York and my novel-writing.” I let out a sigh and fall back into my seat as Oli pulls into the underground garage at his building.

  “Nothing is impossible, Sloane. I know people at both papers. Do you want me to make a call?” he offers, and it warms me right in the middle of my chest. My heartbeat suddenly feels different, like it’s come alive knowing he cares.

  “It’s important to me to get a job based on my own merit.” I smile, a little sad.

  “I hear you.” He nods. “Honorable.”

  I snicker. “Yeah, well it would be nice if I could land the job.”

  He pulls into a parking spot and reaches to the back seat for my bag. I follow him out of the car, feeling exhausted and sweaty from my run earlier. My head hurts.

  As we approach the front door of his apartment, I remember the first time I brought Flynn back here. She was drunk after her long-term boyfriend cheated on her. Oli wasn’t home, which was a real downer, but Myles, was living next door, and he opened the door for us. I remember how hopeful I was, wanting to see Oli that night after not seeing him for years. It turned out he wasn’t even home. Now, I’m here in the same spot, only he’s opening the door so I can sleep over at his place. Oh! How times have changed.

  He places his keys on the mantle just inside past the front door and I follow him in. He looks at me, his eyes a swirl of yellow and green. I’m grateful he’s asked me to stay the night because I can’t get my attackers face out of my mind.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I shake my head. What’s the point in lying?

  “I keep picturing the face of my attacker.” A cool shiver runs through me. “He was waving a knife in my face. I’m lucky I’m not worse off.”

  Oli wraps his burly arms around me, and my head presses against his chest. “You’re okay now. Try not to think about it.” He pulls his head back to look down at me. “Maybe you should go take a bath. There are some girly supplies still in the bathroom from when Flynn was staying here,” he adds, maybe picking up on my slight cringe. Of course I assumed it was for his harem.

  “I’ll whip up something for us to eat,” h
e offers.

  “Didn’t you have to go back to the arena?” I ask, since I thought that was what he said earlier.

  “Nah, I called Coach from your apartment. Told him I couldn’t make it. He’s sending some plays with Myles. He should be here soon.” Missing a practice this time of year is huge.

  “Just like that?” I ask, wondering about the coach’s response. There’s an important game tomorrow.

  “Just like that.” He nods in confirmation. “Told Coach it was a family emergency.”

  “You lied?” I ask, surprised, because as badass as Oli is, when it comes to hockey and following the rules he’s as straight as an arrow.

  “No, I didn’t,” he says. “You’re my nephew and nieces godmother, and like a sister to my sister. You’re family. You had Flynn down as your next of kin.” He says it like it should be obvious to me.

  As warm as he makes my heart feel, there is also a need for me to protect myself. “You know you aren’t Flynn?” I need to play off his words in order to keep my wall up, in order to prevent myself from falling for head over heels for him.

  Oli laughs and shakes his head. “Very funny, Shorty. We’re twins. We’re pretty much the same human.”

  “Fine,” I scoff with a smile. “I’m not debating that whole twin intuition you two have going on.”

  “Good.” He wraps both arms in front of his chest. For some reason, it makes him look bigger as he towers over me. “Now go have that bath.” He tilts his chin to the back of the apartment and uses that commanding voice again.

  “Geez, bossy much?” I chortle.

  “Go.” He points down the hall with a serious playful tone. Warmth floods me.

  I grab the little bag he packed and saunter to the back. I’m not sure why I’m listening to his commands. I hate to admit that I find them sexy, even though I’m not the type of girl who submits to a man. In the past, I’ve sometimes been a little too much for my dates to handle.

  I pass Oli’s room on the way to Flynn’s old room, and cringe as my eyes land on his ginormous bed. I think of all the women who must have spent a night there. In the bathroom, I find what I’m assuming is Flynn’s old stuff.