The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1)

by Nicole Edwards

  Fully expecting my head to start pounding, I sit for a moment, but the pain never comes. Then I recall Kingston tossing me a T-shirt from my dresser, giving me a couple of aspirin, along with something to drink—a concoction he said would ensure I didn’t have a hangover—before he insisted that I get some sleep.

  After the orgasm.

  The question is, did the medicine do the trick? Or was it whatever he’d mixed for me to drink? Or … (I seriously doubt this, but I may never know) was it the orgasm?

  Rolling my eyes, I laugh-snort, then push to my feet.

  “It couldn’t have been that good,” I mumble to myself. “Tequila is the devil, and everyone knows the devil likes to fuck with your head.”

  I make a quick pit stop in the bathroom to pee, pull on a pair of pajama shorts, then take the time to comb my hair and brush my teeth while I’m in there, before joining my daughter and the goalie god in the kitchen.

  Kingston.

  Not the goalie god.

  “Morning, Mommy,” Bianca greets, holding a piece of bacon between her fingers as she leans on her elbow. “Kingston came over to make breakfast.”

  I look up at Kingston, our gazes colliding. I’m fairly certain he didn’t go home last night, but for the life of me, I’m not positive. After he medicated me with an orgasm, I passed out cold, my body sated.

  Whether he stayed or not, he had the decency not to let Bianca know, for which I’m grateful.

  “Morning,” he greets, that deep rumble once again stirring things up in my belly.

  “Hey.” Pushing a lock of hair behind my ear, I turn my attention to Bianca, pretending it isn’t incredibly awkward for Kingston to be cooking breakfast in my kitchen. I glance at the clock on the wall. “Why are you ready so early?”

  I plant my ass on the barstool next to Bianca and watch her eat. I notice the pink hair is now gone and in its place, a purple strand. I flick it with my finger and Bianca grins at me.

  “Gabby’s mom is picking me up. We have to present our science fair project idea to my teacher this morning, remember?” she says around a mouthful of bacon.

  When I don’t answer—because honestly I’m trying to remember—Bianca cocks her head and frowns. “She’ll also be picking us up today so we can go to her house to work on it.”

  Sometimes it is hard to believe my little girl is so grown up. Seems like it was yesterday when Bianca was a toddler running around the house screaming at the top of her lungs. And good Lord did that girl have a good set of lungs on her.

  “And then this weekend I’m gonna spend the night with her so we can finish the project.”

  Right. This weekend. Four days from now.

  I don’t look at Kingston, managing to mumble a thank you when he pushes a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me. Why don’t my eggs and bacon ever look like something that should be on the cover of a magazine? And how in the world does a hockey player manage to accomplish that feat?

  “What’re y’all gonna do today?” Bianca asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension that is sucking the oxygen from the room.

  “I need to work on the bathroom,” I blurt before Kingston has a chance to speak. “And I have to be at the bar by four. I’ve got a delivery.”

  “Yes, Mom,” Bianca huffs. “You have got to do something with that bathroom. It’s a pain to always have to go upstairs to pee.”

  The half bathroom has been out of commission for a while, and rather than take the time to fix it, I’ve been putting it off. It’s easier to make Bianca go to her own bathroom and for me to use mine, but I have to admit, it is a little weird when guests come over.

  “When’s your next home game?” Bianca asks Kingston, clearly not wanting details regarding the bathroom renovation.

  “Thursday night,” he tells her. “Why, you wanna come watch me play?”

  Bianca loves watching Kingston and Spencer play hockey almost as much as I do. I guess it runs in the family. Clearly Kingston’s family are hockey fanatics, too, since all three of the Rush brothers have gone pro.

  “Can we, Mom?”

  “We’ll see. Depends on how much of your science project you get completed.” I’m not sure how I feel about taking Bianca to another game just yet. The last one was without incident, but that doesn’t mean it’ll always be that way. Considering the publicity my pretend relationship with Kingston is getting, I don’t want my daughter to get caught in the crossfire.

  “Her mom’s helping us. We’re doing one of the experiments today and the other one on Saturday.”

  I’m tempted to ask Bianca if she could stay home this weekend and the two of us could go see a movie, but I know that is a cop-out. Bianca always looks forward to going to Gabby’s, and well, I’m simply going to have to suck it up and deal with the big goalie in the room. Maybe I really should start working on that bathroom.

  Whatever I decide to do, it will need to keep my mind off Mount Rushmore and his magical fingers.

  Don’t assume the score until the final buzzer sounds.

  His words echo in my mind, reminding me once again of what happened between us last night.

  I guess, technically, nothing happened between us; it was a little more one-sided than that. Okay, totally one-sided, as in what he did to me, thanks to my repeated begging, but still. Hell, he didn’t even kiss me, and I remember desperately wishing that he would.

  “Earth to mom,” Bianca calls.

  I blink the room into focus, realizing I’m staring at Kingston’s luscious mouth as he stands across from me on the opposite side of the breakfast bar.

  “Sorry.”

  “Gabby’s mom is here. I’m gonna go, ’kay?”

  “All right.” I get to my feet. “Hug.”

  Bianca wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tight. God, I love this kid.

  “Love you, Mommy.”

  “Love you, too, kiddo. If you need anything while you’re at Gabby’s, call my cell phone.”

  “I will. Y’all behave yourselves.”

  My face heats even though I know the words were innocent on Bianca’s part.

  Unfortunately, at the moment, there is nothing innocent about my thoughts. Not when it comes to the goalie god gracing my kitchen.

  Bianca

  As soon as I climb in the backseat of Gabby’s mom’s minivan, my phone buzzes. I know it’s Gabby. She likes to text me on the way to school. Unlike my mom, her mom doesn’t seem to mind. When we do that with my mom around, she always takes our phones and insists we speak instead. She’s funny like that.

  “Good morning, Bianca,” Mrs. Emmanuelle greets kindly.

  “Good morning,” I reply, smiling at her reflection in the rearview mirror before turning my attention to my phone.

  Gabby: Did anything exciting happen since I talked to you last?

  Bianca: I went to sleep. Does that count?

  Gabby: No.

  Bianca: Okay… Hmm… Well, Kingston was there this morning when I woke up. I saw him sleeping on the couch, but he didn’t see me. He made me breakfast.

  Gabby: OMG. Is he really dating your mom?

  Bianca: That’s what they say, but I don’t think so.

  I don’t know why I think that. At first, I thought they were dating. My mom even said they were. It’s kind of strange because I’ve heard it mentioned a few times, and someone said they heard it on the news, but I don’t think it’s real. Not completely real, anyway. I think they definitely like each other … a lot. But I’m not sure it’s what it looks like. If it was, would he really be sleeping on the couch?

  Gabby: What if he is? What happens if your dad finds you? Won’t he be mad that your mom has a boyfriend?

  The questions still confuse me. I’ve been trying to understand what Gabby means. I mean, yes, it sounds like it could happen. My dad won’t want to be around my mom if she has a boyfriend. But that’s only if he likes her. What if he only likes me? What if my dad doesn’t like my mom?

  I frown. I hadn’t thought about th
at before.

  While Gabby’s mom pulls into the parking lot of the school, I tuck my phone into my pocket and consider all this new information. I really don’t know what to do. It doesn’t look like my dad’s going to contact my mom. If he doesn’t, does that mean my mom will marry Kingston? I mean, I like Kingston. He’s fun to be around. He always does stuff with me, but … I can’t see him as my dad.

  Or can I?

  Kingston

  The instant I hear the front door shut, I move around the bar to stand behind Ellie. She hasn’t sat down again, but I want her to eat her breakfast before she comes up with an excuse to send me on my way. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, trying to come up with a polite way to make me leave.

  I’m not leaving.

  Not yet.

  “How’s your head?” I ask, putting my hands on her shoulders and guiding her back to the barstool.

  Her muscles tense beneath my fingers.

  “Whatever you gave me worked like a charm.”

  I smile to myself. I gave her an orgasm, but I doubt she’s referring to that.

  I’ve been replaying that scene over and over in my head ever since I tucked her into bed, then got comfortable on the couch. I remembered to set an alarm to ensure that I was awake before Bianca got up. The last thing I want is for the kid to think I stayed over. I doubt Bianca would think anything of it, but I know how Ellie is about that. She never allows men to sleep over. I’m not even sure I can remember a time when she introduced one to Bianca.

  That makes me think about Bianca’s Facebook post. It bothers me a little that Ellie doesn’t trust me when it comes to that. She said she monitors Bianca’s Facebook, so she must know. Spencer hasn’t mentioned it, either, but I haven’t brought it up. I’m not sure there’s a good way. I can’t see myself blurting the question out, asking whether he knows that his sister is trying to locate her Vegas hookup. Probably the type of question that’ll get me punched. Especially since it’s not supposed to be my business.

  Or it really isn’t my business.

  Either way.

  It doesn’t matter because I know Ellie’s a phenomenal mother. Everything she does reflects that. Every decision she has made since the day she found out she was pregnant proves that Bianca is the most important thing in her world. I respect that. She loves Bianca and only wants her to be happy, so if finding her dad will ensure that, I can see why she’d do it.

  “You don’t have to stay,” Ellie says, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I realize I’ve been standing there kneading her shoulders while she picks at her food.

  “We need to talk,” I tell her before she tells me all the things she has to do today and why I should head out.

  “About what? The orgasm?”

  I grin, walking back to the island and pouring her a glass of orange juice, then setting it on the counter beside her plate.

  “It was just an orgasm,” she says around a mouthful of bacon.

  “Just an orgasm, yeah?” I seriously doubt that. “If that’s the case, then maybe I need to try a little harder next time.”

  Ellie’s gaze meets mine. “Will there be a next time, Kingston? Do you think that’s wise? We can chalk last night up to too much tequila … on my part. I begged you. You’re off the hook.”

  That is one thing I admire about this woman. She doesn’t beat around the bush, always saying it like it is, laying it all on the line. However, she’s wrong this time.

  “I didn’t do it because you begged.” Although it helped to speed things along, I did it because I wanted to. I can own up to my actions.

  “Fine. But that doesn’t mean we should do it again.”

  “Only, we should definitely do it again,” I argue.

  She takes a bite of eggs. “That doesn’t answer my second question.”

  Right. Second question. Do I think it’s wise? “I don’t see an issue with it.” I brace my hands on the counter behind me as I prop myself up with the counter.

  “Where’s it gonna go?”

  “Who knows.”

  “Then why would we want to go there?”

  “Do you even remember last night?”

  She blushes, clearly remembering.

  “Then you know that’s a dumb question.”

  “Fine. What if it ruins our friendship?”

  Yeah, I’ve thought about that, and that’s definitely something I worry about, but for whatever reason, I’m blinded by my feelings for her. And it isn’t simply lust. But that is definitely a powerful contributing factor.

  “We won’t let it,” I tell her.

  “Right.” Ellie snorts and it’s oddly cute. “And we can make that call.”

  “We can.” Why can’t we?

  “Friends with benefits?” The corner of her mouth turns up. “Isn’t that a little cliché?”

  “You’re the one who said it, not me.”

  “But you’re up for just sex?”

  With her? No.

  Will I tell her that? No.

  “I think I can handle it.”

  “I’ve heard you’re really bossy. And you’re into kinky stuff,” she says, biting off the end of another slice of bacon. She waves the uneaten part of her bacon at me. “What if I don’t like that?”

  I don’t respond right away. I stand there, watching her. My body’s hardening from the conversation alone. My cock is pushing against the zipper of my jeans, and I want to free it, to stroke myself while she watches. I know she’ll like to watch.

  That’s the thing about Ellie. She’s open and honest about anything and everything. And I’ve known her for a long damn time. We’ve had discussions about everything from food to hockey to why guys like to watch lesbian porn… The point is, we’ve talked about everything. And I’ve picked up on the things that excite her. She might say she doesn’t want a man who takes charge when it comes to her pleasure, but she does. She totally does.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna spontaneously combust,” Ellie says, taking a sip of her orange juice as she chews. “And I don’t think that’s gonna help your cause.”

  “Finish eating,” I command, keeping my voice low and even.

  “See, there’s that bossy thing I was talking about.” She’s rambling. I know it and she knows it.

  What she obviously doesn’t realize is that I can see that her nipples are hard through the light gray T-shirt she has on.

  “Finish eating,” I repeat.

  “And then what?”

  Keeping my voice stern, I stand up straight. “And then I’m gonna make you come again.” I pause, waiting until she meets my gaze. “With my mouth.”

  24

  Ellie

  I choke on my bacon, coughing uncontrollably until my eyes are watering. Damn, that hurts like a motherf— It hurts bad. I’ll leave it at that.

  When I finally get myself under control, I find Kingston still staring at me. There are a million words hovering on the tip of my tongue, a dozen excuses as to why we shouldn’t do this, but I can’t bring myself to speak them aloud. Truth is, I don’t want to. But it’s hard not to think about them. I’ve managed to get a little perspective when he was out of town. Probably even did a little too much thinking about the breakfast date and how much I enjoyed kissing him. The conclusion I’ve come to is that I can’t get in too deep. No matter how I spin it, we are still friends, and this is supposed to be a way to improve his image, not a way for me to get laid.

  Then again, I haven’t had sex in three freaking years.

  That’s my selfish side talking. And that side wants Kingston to do as he promised, to make me come. I don’t care if he uses his fingers again or his mouth. I’m not picky. Hell, I’m primed and ready to go and that’s from his words alone.

  Pushing my plate away, I down what’s left of my orange juice and try to compose myself.

  “Finished?”

  If I say yes, will he ravish me with his mouth?

  Oh, crap.
/>   “Before we do something rash, don’t you think we should discuss the boundaries of this pretend relationship?” I’m stalling, yes. But it’s better than jumping him, despite how badly I want to.

  “We can,” he replies.

  “Okay, then let’s discuss.”

  “It seems pretty straightforward to me.” Kingston crosses his arms over his chest. I admire the way his muscles flex beneath the soft cotton of his button-down, the way it pulls tight across his chest. “We’ll go about our business as we always have, only I’ll take you out to dinner and movies, you’ll come to the games, we’ll spend time together whenever we can. Just like we’ve been doing for the past couple of weeks.”

  “That sounds an awful lot like dating,” I state.

  “That’s kind of the point.” He relaxes his stance, putting his hands on the counter behind him.

  “No, the point is that it’s pretend.”

  I really, really need to remember this is pretend. Even though I’ve made it my mission to help Kingston, to prove to the world that he doesn’t manhandle women the way that one girl said, it is still pretend. Dates or not.

  “Only if we want it to be.”

  I frown. That wasn’t the deal. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He cocks his head to the side and once again crosses his arms over his chest, biceps bunching beneath the fabric of his shirt. He is truly a remarkable specimen, even if it’s evident he’s going on the defensive.

  “What happened last night wasn’t pretend, Ellie.”

  No, it wasn’t. I very much enjoyed that orgasm. I want a million more, in fact. But that doesn’t mean that we should venture down this path.

  Staring back at him, I try to come up with something to say, but I don’t have an argument. The dating thing makes sense if we’re going to convince the public that Kingston has settled down. But what happens behind closed doors…

  That is completely up to us, and the memory of last night’s orgasm returns, heating my skin.

  “I need to shower,” I blurt.

  “Good. Me, too.”

  Okay. I didn’t expect that.