by CoraLee June
I opened my mouth to argue, but Oakley cupped my cheeks.
Oh yeah, this would definitely get some curious stares. The locker room was still a flutter of activity. Some players were getting prepped for ice baths. Some were getting cuts and bruises tended to. One was having his groin stretched. And I wish that were a euphemism, because the way the middle-aged trainer was up in his no-no zone just looked wrong.
“I’m taking you out, Solver. I’ll even go over the interview with you so you can pretend it’s work.” He pulled me out of the main area of the lockers and toward the outside hallway. All of the coeds and press had filtered out, so we were alone.
I bit my lip, and his dark eyes zeroed in on the movement. Fuck. Was it hot in here or just me? “Oakley,” I said with a sigh. “Are you gonna have dinner with me, then disappear with one of those girls? The client thing is a big problem for me, but also…” I debated for a moment how to tell him my issues with the party scene without revealing my deepest shame. “We are very different. I feel like a short-lived challenge to you, and once the novelty wears off, you’ll find something else to occupy your time. Why cross that boundary if we both know it can’t work?”
I felt embarrassed admitting that, but it was worth talking about. “I like you,” Oakley replied simply. “I really like you. I don’t do the whole girlfriend thing, yeah. And if we’re being honest, this will probably blow up in our faces.”
His palm landed on my neck, and his index finger tested my pulse. We were in a compromising position, in a very public space, but I felt trapped in his orbit. I couldn’t push him away, and I didn’t want to. Oakley leaned over to kiss me, and I let him.
It was soft and sweet. His lips had a waxy layer of ChapStick on them, and his tongue tasted like mint. When he pulled away, I practically melted. “But I think about you all the time—and not just because you set five million alarms on my phone. I think about if there’s anyone to take care of you. I wonder if you’re eating. I wonder what you look like naked…”
I snorted, but he continued. “I think about kissing you. Everywhere. I bet you taste so fucking sweet.” I was squirming at his words. “I think about what you’re going to do after college. And for the first time in a long time, I think about how my actions affect someone else. I’m just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to go have dinner with me, then hold my hand at a party—and maybe kiss me a few more times. Can we just give this a chance?”
I braced my hands against his chest. “Let’s go eat, Problem.”
19
The dimly lit Italian restaurant Oakley took me to was kind of a dive, and that was being generous. I looked around at the yellowing counters and torn, outdated booths and grimaced. There were only two other occupied tables. I tried to muster up some enthusiasm, but Oakley could read my face like a book.
“I promise, this is the best lasagna you will ever eat,” he said with gusto.
The only waitress on staff that night led us to a booth and handed us menus that looked like they had been printed twenty years ago. Well, at least it was clean, I told myself. Oakley was so excited to bring me here I decided to let my initial judgements go and have an open mind.
I perused the menu and realized that I was looking at entrees I actually wanted to eat instead of what had the least amount of calories. I still wasn’t going to order the lasagna, because come on, carb city, but the chicken piccata sounded pretty good.
As we were waiting for our food to come, Oakley reached his hand across the table and took mine. I could still smell the soap on his skin; it was clean, refreshing, and slightly intoxicating. He looked at me slyly and said, “You know, I seem to remember a certain promise to fuck you so good that all of Austin was going to hear you moan.”
“Oakley!” I yanked my hand back and laughed. It was definitely a tempting offer. But I was so impressed that he even remembered that night at all, let alone actually saying that to me, that my hooha forgot to be turned on.
Our food came and we ate, talked and laughed. I couldn’t even remember the last time I felt this comfortable with anyone, let alone a man. I didn’t want this dinner to end. And to top it off, my chicken was so fucking good I thought I might actually come right there at the table. I even tried a nibble of Oakley’s lasagna.
We skipped dessert, and by the time the check came, we had been there for almost two hours. Everybody was going to start wondering where Oakley was if we didn’t get to the party soon. After a little back and forth on who was going to pay, I let Oakley take care of it.
We walked to the party hand-in-hand. But a couple of blocks before we got there, I pulled my hand away. “I’m not sure I’m ready for everyone to see whatever this is. I’m your publicist. I don’t want to be the story. Business as usual?” I stuck out my hand to shake on it.
Oakley ignored my hand and pulled me in tight against his hard chest. He threaded his fingers through my hair and brought my mouth to meet his. And then he pulled away. It was a short, sweet kiss that left me wanting more.
“Business as usual,” he said with an impish grin. Holy hell, he was so hot. I followed him wordlessly to the party.
“Oakley! My man!” Dale yelled over the music. The party was in full swing, and there were at least three couples going at it in various spots in the trashed living room.
Dale gave me a heated once over that had me rolling my eyes so hard I think I hurt myself. It felt so practiced that I was certain he’d used it on lots of girls. Dale was cute, don’t get me wrong, but he seemed to poach Oakley’s appeal for himself. “Let me get you a drink,” he said with a wink.
“Just water for me,” I replied. I needed to keep my sobriety if I was going to keep Oakley out of trouble. The moment he walked through the door, he seemed to buzz with excitement. He was a true extrovert, shining in the adrenaline of others’ attention. It wasn’t bad, it was like staring at someone meant to be in the spotlight. Once again, I couldn’t help but feel like his dreams of working at the flower shop were a lie.
“Water? You’re no fun,” Dale whined. “Oh shit, there’s Kaydence. Fuck, I swear she’s the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. Be right back.” Dale disappeared without getting me a drink, and I couldn’t help but laugh at how he fumbled across the room to see a girl with long blonde hair, alluring eyes, and bright red lipstick.
“I’ll get you a drink. Would you like sparkling or flat?” Oakley asked while spinning my hair on his finger.
“Only the finest water from Fiji for me,” I teased back. “Tap is fine.”
Oakley disappeared through the crowd, and I leaned against the wall, people watching as I waited.
“Hey there, Balls,” a familiar voice called out. Ahh, Heath. Fuckboy freshman extraordinaire.
“Hey. Did you enjoy the game?” I asked politely.
“Yeah. It was good. I would have preferred to watch it with you, though,” he said, standing alarmingly close to me. I had not forgotten the full-on boob squeeze. He smelled sickly sweet, I’m guessing from whatever the red liquid in his cup was.
“Yeah, too bad players have to, you know, watch the game with the team and all,” I snarked.
“I know, baby. If they let us, I would’ve brought you down to the sidelines and let you watch as my special VIP,” Heath told me, trying to be smooth, my sarcasm having gone right over his head.
He shot a hand up surprisingly fast for a drunk dude and started stroking my face. “You’re so soft. And pretty,” he said with all the charm of a teenager trying to ask out a girl for the first time. He dipped his head like he was going in for a kiss.
“What the fuck, man?” Oakley yelled, standing in front of us. His rage was palpable.
Heath lifted his head to look at Oakley. “Hey, man!” Heath babbled, absolutely oblivious to Oakley’s anger. Alcohol was a powerful thing. I mean, I didn’t think Heath was all that bright to begin with, but this was next level.
Oakley shoved Heath off of me and stood over him aggressively. Heath was a bi
g dude, being a football player and all, but Oakley made him look so small. It dawned on me that these guys were going to get into a fight over me. Huh, cool. No, not cool. Bad. Very bad.
“Oakley, it’s okay,” I said, resting my head on his arm.
“Back the fuck off,” Oakley said to Heath, ignoring me. “Find somewhere else to be annoying, or I’ll have you cleaning equipment all day.”
“You can’t do that,” he argued. “But I wouldn’t mind scrubbing some balls,” he then added in a slur.
His joke was lame at best. I honestly doubted he scrubbed his balls at all. Heath didn’t look like the type to take hygiene seriously. Oakley, however, wasn’t amused. “Out,” he said, pulling me closer.
“I was just playing, man,” Heath replied.
“I don’t really give a fuck. You disrespect Amanda, you disrespect me. Out.”
Heath rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath. The macho display of protectiveness was cliche and...well...hot.
Oakley followed Heath with his eyes until the annoying fuckboy was out of the house. “That dumbass,” he growled.
“Down, tiger. As your publicist, I have to say getting into a fight with your teammate would probably look bad,” I said. He curled me even closer. Any more and I’d have my legs wrapped around his waist. “Did you get me any water?” I asked. All of that manly protectiveness had me hankering for a drink.
“Ah shit,” Oakley sighed. “No. I saw Heath talking to you, and I just…”
“Got adorably jealous and came to my rescue?” I offered.
“Got ferociously protective and planned to beat his ass in your honor.”
I chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get me some water.”
We made our way into the crowded kitchen, where the music was less loud but the chatter was just as intimidating. I’d been to plenty of parties like this. I knew the score. A sense of ick traveled up my spine, and I was hit in the gut with the embarrassment of what I’d done at my old school. Being here was like digging up the remains of my old life. I went to grab a drink, then frowned when I saw Kelseigh and her two buddies lock their laser eyes on Oakley and me.
“Do you want me to fight them off?” I joked as they started to walk over.
“Only if you’re naked and in a mud pit.” I looked at him wide-eyed, a challenge in my raised brows. “I mean, no. I can handle it,” he quickly added.
“Oooooakley!” Kelseigh whined in that all too familiar high-pitched, nasally, drunk girl song. “Where have you beeeeen?” She dragged out that last word and flung her arms around Oakley’s neck. “I missed you.” She giggled.
I wasn’t so much annoyed with Kelseigh as I was self-aware. Okay, I was both. But I used to be exactly like her. In fact, I probably would have been best friends forever with her if I had lived in Austin this time last year.
“Hey, Kels!” I teased. She looked over at me as though she had just realized I was there.
“Oh, hi, Lauren,” she replied, turning her attention back to Oakley.
Bitch didn’t even remember my name, and she had her fingers all up in my man’s hair. I let the jealousy flare. It only took a moment to get control of myself again, but damn, where did that even come from? I liked Oakley and all, but did seeing him like that with another woman really trigger me that much? Yep, I guess it did.
“Sorry, Kelseigh. But I gotta steal Oakley.” I reached out and physically grabbed him, separating him from her grip.
Oakley looked at me, amused, and I looked at him like if he even thought of accusing me of being jealous, I would shave off his eyebrows in his sleep. “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” I asked.
“Solver, you read my mind. How come when I’m with you, I suddenly don’t feel like partying, hmm?”
“I am the party,” I joked with what I hoped was a flirty wink. I was crossing all sorts of boundaries tonight.
“Oh really now?”
“Really.”
“How about this,” Oakley began. “One dance, then we can go somewhere quiet. I want to see your moves.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek for a moment. “You just want an excuse to feel me up.” One glance in the living room gave me an idea of just the kind of “dancing” Oakley wanted to do. I wasn’t complaining, but I also didn’t want to end up on any Instagram stories, either. I already felt like the center of attention standing beside Oakley. I didn’t bother looking around, but I could feel everyone’s eyes on us. The entire fucking world was drawn to him, and I wanted to avoid that attention like the plague it was.
“I would love to feel you up, Solver. I’ve been thinking about how soft your skin feels.” Oakley was rumbling in my ear, and it was like my panties were doused in sriracha. “I’ve been thinking about how you taste. I’ve been thinking about those cute little moans that escape your lips when I touch you.”
Oh my Sushi. I needed a drink. Ice. Someone call an ambulance. Oakley continued, “I think about prying your pretty thighs open and—”
“Oh myyy godddd. If you don’t dance with him, I’ll fuck him on the dance floor,” Kelseigh interrupted. Oh. Could they hear us?
“One. Dance,” I conceded.
I let Oakley lead me into the living room. He turned toward me and slid his hands low around my waist, pulling me impossibly close. He started gyrating his hips to the rhythm. When I didn’t immediately follow along, he repositioned his hands so that one was holding me firmly at the base of my back, almost on my ass. He used this hand to keep my already roaring kitty glued to where I could feel his dick stiffen in his jeans.
Oakley lowered his mouth to my neck, his breath sending shivers down my entire body. He started slowly kissing me, starting by my ear and working his way down with featherlight touches. I was going to lose my ever-loving shit in the middle of this kegger, surrounded by practically the whole university. I was going to have to move. Again.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take the motion of his hips combined with his wet tongue on my skin, he spun me around. I bent over slightly so that my ass was nestled right into his cock and moved my hips in fast circles, in time to the music. I heard a small moan escape his lips, and it made me smile. It seemed to go on forever. His hot hands roamed my body as we moved. Whistles could be heard as I lost myself to the sensations of it all. My heart was pounding, and heat traveled up and down my spine at his nearness. I spun around and wrapped my hands around his neck. “I think it’s been two songs.”
“I think you’re going to ruin me,” he replied.
I leaned up and pressed a faint kiss to his mouth. Soft. Warm. Needy. He nipped at my bottom lip playfully while rubbing my sides. The edge of his thumbs brushed my breasts. His hips jolted against me. “Mmm, I think we should go back to my place,” he murmured.
I knew I should have said no. But I couldn’t.
When the song ended, Oakley was slow to let me go and whispered in my ear, “Ready to get out of here?”
I knew the unspoken question. Do you want this? Do you want me?
“Let’s go,” I rasped.
We made our way through the crowd, and he ordered us an Uber, though it was just a short walk. I guess neither of us wanted to waste any time.
The entire car ride, I was choking on the tension and squeezing my thighs shut. We didn’t banter or talk. The only communication between us was the subtle brushes of his skin on mine. Every little touch had me panting. It was like I was under a spell, and both of us weren’t sure if speaking would ruin the moment.
At his apartment, I got out of the car and stood on the sidewalk. I knew I had a decision in all of this. I knew that if I marched myself up to his room, there was no escaping where this was headed. Oakley was used to one-night stands. I needed to mentally prepare myself for this to be a one-time thing—a dive into the passion that had been building between us.
“You don’t have to come up. We don’t have to do anything,” he whispered, grabbing my hand and pulling me close. “We can sit on the couch
and watch a movie. I just want to be with you.”
I hooked my fingers through his belt loops, pulling him closer. “Let’s go upstairs, Problem,” I whispered, taking charge of this. I didn’t have the excuse of being caught up in the moment, but still I wanted Oakley Davis. If just for one night.
His apartment was clean and smelled like his cologne. I briefly wondered if he’d tidied up. Did he know it would come to this? It was a small space with a leather couch and flat screen TV. The apartment was minimalistic in design and had various details sprinkled in that felt like Oakley. A picture of him in his uniform on the side table. A gaming console on the entertainment center.
“Do you want anything to drink? I never got you that water…”
I nodded and made my way over to the large window in his living room to look out over the city. His place didn’t have a spectacular view, but I needed the distraction. I heard him grab some ice and pour me a drink, then walk back over to me. He pressed the cool glass against my neck, making me flinch. “Oops, sorry, was that cold?” he teasingly asked. Oakley then leaned over and licked the chill away with his hot tongue.
I took the glass from his hand and took a steady gulp, with his dark eyes focused on me. My hands were trembling. “You cold?” he asked, noticing the slight tremor in my movements.
“I’m actually kind of hot,” I choked out. Oakley smiled and grabbed the glass from me, setting it on the black coffee table nearby.
“You could always take off your clothes?” Oakley offered, helping me out of my white silk tank top. I immediately wanted to cover my body with my arms. It was an instinctual insecurity. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he groaned, kissing my neck. The chill in the air traveled over my skin, making my nipples pebble through the thin lace bra I was wearing.
“I’m, uh, still a little hot,” I said, staring up at the ceiling with him poised in front of me. Oakley chuckled, pulling away from me. I’d expected him to start working at the buttons of my skinny jeans, but instead he went over to the glass of water and took a cube of ice out of it with his fingers before plopping it in his mouth.