Hate the Game

by Holly Hall

  Is it considered a headbutt when two people contribute equal force to the equation? Either way, I ended up flat on my back, looking at my bedroom from a new perspective. Stars popped at the edges of my vision, and Theo—hand covering one eye, his pants just below his ass and his shoes still on—appeared right above me as he knelt.

  “Wow, I did not see that coming,” he said, his free hand hovering over the area of my forehead that pulsated in time with my heartbeat. “That one’s going to leave a goose egg. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry!” I rushed out, prodding the area above my left eye. “I was distracted by your. . .” I gestured vaguely.

  “My package?” he asked suggestively.

  “No! Well, on second thought, yes. Since we’re being honest.”

  “Honesty is important. Dammit, what am I doing?” He straightened. “Let me get you some ice.”

  “No, no, it’s fine.” It came to me then that I was still addressing him from the floor and hadn’t moved an inch. The scene was sure to be ridiculous. Theo seemed torn between leaving the room and attending to me, but something in my expression made him kneel on the carpet again.

  “You sure?” he asked, cupping the side of my head and running a thumb along my temple.

  “Yes. Maybe just, I don’t know, kiss me?”

  His lips climbed into a grin. “That, I can do. Just don’t make any sudden movements.”

  “I won’t, but you should probably take your shoes off first. I promise not to help this time.”

  He pushed the heel of each shoe off with the opposite toe, then shimmied out of his slacks. It was possibly the most ungraceful way to remove tuxedo pants in the history of removing tuxedo pants, but I couldn’t have been more turned on. Then he planted one knee between my thighs and his elbows on either side of my head and kissed me in a way that made me forget what’d just transpired.

  Or maybe it was the blood rushing from my head to . . . elsewhere.

  My hands had minds of their own, roaming from his pecs over the swells of his shoulders to his back. His abdomen, demarcated with ridges and valleys, was next on my list of places to explore, and those ridges tapered down to the elastic of his briefs.

  My lingering fingers were a question, and his hands covering mine to help peel them down his thighs, the answer.

  When his impressive length bobbed up to greet me, I froze, staring. The last action I’d had was steady-relationship sex. Most times, those occurrences weren’t even romantic; they took place in the dark after one-too-many slices of pizza, while your brain was occupied by to-do lists and mourning the loss of sleep. Impressive, sexy outfits weren’t a requirement, and you weren’t expected to get “creative” unless it was a special occasion.

  This? With Theo? This was unfamiliar territory. If I expected to see him again, the pressure to not mess it up was on.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” he said, snapping me out of my inner commentary. His lids looked heavy over his lusty eyes. “Unless you’re thinking we should stop, and in that case, let me know.”

  “No, it’s not that.”

  “I swear it’s not as mean as it looks,” he cracked, and I knew the joke was for my benefit. He lowered himself until his torso covered mine.

  “It’s been a long time,” I whispered.

  His smirk was replaced by understanding. “In that case, I better make it good.” His lips were feather soft on mine, and he took my bottom one into his mouth and sucked gently, then made a trail across my jaw and down my neck. My body responded with a shiver. He only interrupted his path to say, “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes.” I was too enamored by his skills to be embarrassed about how breathy I sounded.

  This time the kissing trail didn’t end at my neck. He reached behind my back to unsnap my bra, tossing it unceremoniously aside. My breasts became the sole owner of his attention next.

  Everywhere his hands went, his lips followed, so when he gripped the lace of my underwear, I knew what would come after. Me, hopefully. But knowing did nothing to prepare me for the way his tongue would feel dragging up my center.

  It was a sweet kind of torture, too much and somehow not enough at the same time. Liam never spent this much time with his face near my nether regions. My breath caught in my throat as circling changed to sucking. Liam who?

  I felt Theo’s breaths on my inner thighs when he asked, “Do you want to move to the bed?” and all I could do was shake my head in answer. I didn’t trust my legs enough, in the state I was in, and when he resumed his tortuous magic a moment later, I knew it’d been the right decision. The image of him between my legs on my bedroom floor would probably go down in my book of Greatest Moments Ever.

  It wasn’t long before the climbing turned into the fall. I came undone, shamelessly scrabbling for a grip of his shorn hair. I thought it’d last forever, the way it felt, and it nearly did when the aftershocks tremored through me as Theo returned his lips to mine and offered me a taste of myself. A taste I accepted, because I was caught up in a moment that was hotter, filthier than anything I’d ever experienced with . . . oh, who the hell cared.

  “That was. . . Better than I imagined.”

  Theo paused, drawing his lips inward and closing his eyes. “Ouch.”

  “No! Not that I thought you wouldn’t, you now, be great. I was fairly certain of that. I’ve just never experienced that before.”

  “Someone going down on you?”

  Now it was my turn to squeeze my eyes shut. I was just strengthening the argument for my naïveté. “An orgasm.”

  His exhale against my cheek was soon accompanied by his lips. “Ava,” he murmured. “Open your eyes.” I did as he said, though my eyelids stuttered. “Was it as good as you thought it would be?”

  His gaze was earnest, so much so that I felt the effects in my chest. A tug-tug feeling. “Better.”

  And then I was rolling him, making my way down his body to take him into my mouth. If he could feel even an ounce of what I’d just experienced, I’d give myself a gold star for a job well done.

  The groan I heard next was less pleasure, more pain, interrupting me. “What the—” he said, reaching behind him. He pulled one of my discarded heels from behind his back.

  “Oops. Yeah, when I cleaned up, I kinda just threw everything.” I gestured nonsensically before resuming my task, but he caught me beneath the arms and pulled me to face-level. “Wha—” I began to protest.

  “I won’t last if you keep that up.”

  “Oh.” That hadn’t been what I expected. “Good?”

  He grinned against me. “Yeah, good. Grab my pants, will you? My wallet’s in the pocket.”

  I did as he asked, and he removed a foil packet and tossed the wallet aside. It didn’t set in that I was going to be on top until he’d gestured to me and helped me astride him.

  This was happening.

  Okay. Breathe.

  Theo was too distracted by his hands on my breasts to notice how long it took me to find my rhythm, and once I had, he sat up, making me lose it all over again. But, ohhh, that angle. All concern about what was where and the mechanics of it all was thrown out the window by the resulting sensations. We were as close as we could be, our chests together and him somehow, almost impossibly, moving beneath me.

  I was about to . . . was it even possible? Yes, yes it was, if my heightened breathing and trembling muscles were any indication.

  Theo stilled beneath me, his expression dazed when he drew back a fraction. “That was. . .”

  “Life-changing? Mind-altering?” I inwardly praised my quick wit. The rate we’d been going, I should’ve been nearly incapacitated.

  “Yes,” he said firmly.

  I smoothed the loose hairs away from my face, and when I leaned up to disentangle myself from him, I noticed his swelling eyebrow. “Oh, wow. The ice would’ve been a good idea.”

  “Huh?”

  “Ice, for your eyebrow. You look like you went eight rounds
with a—”

  “Goddess. Eight rounds with a goddess.”

  “Let me go get that ice. I think you have a concussion or something.” I took a quick survey of our immediate surroundings and snatched the throw off my bed, wrapping it around myself as I eased off him and padded into the kitchen.

  Theo was right where I’d left him when I returned. Lying flat, one leg bent and still gloriously naked. I imagined if I were him I’d just stay naked, permanently. What public indecency?

  “I like this,” he said, gesturing to my makeshift toga with the bag of ice I handed him.

  “What, the blanket? I wish I could say I crocheted it myself, but—” An inhale hissed between my teeth as his fingers made their way through the holes in the blanket and caressed my skin. Looking back, maybe it wasn’t the best option for coverage, but that mere gesture led to the unraveling of my blanket burrito and another round with Theo.

  Somewhere on my floor, the ice melted, and I can confidently say it wasn’t missed.

  Chapter 18

  Ava

  “RIP, sex hiatus. You will not be missed,” Holland announced far louder than was necessary.

  I covered my mouth so I wouldn’t spit out a mouthful of sparkling rosé. Holland insisted we needed to celebrate, and when it came to rosé, who was I to say no? The fact that it was a Tuesday was irrelevant.

  “I don’t think the whole bar wants to know about my ‘hiatus.’”

  “No, but they probably want to know about you breaking it. Give the people what they want, sheesh.” Her tone was still teasing, but at least she’d lowered her voice. “So,” she said, holding her hands parallel and alternating between moving them apart and together, “what are we talking here?”

  “I am not discussing size with you right now.”

  “Oh, okay.” She nodded smugly. “You wanna get a second look at it, I get it.”

  “Stop it,” I whisper-shouted.

  “What? I can’t be embarrassing you too bad, you haven’t broken out in hives yet.”

  I was well on my way, if the heat rising in my chest was any indication. “Anyway—”

  “You are getting a second look at it though, right? When?” I sent a sharp look in her direction and she dropped her hands, the modern standard of penis measurement. She didn’t manage to contain her giggles, though. Bubbly drinks did that to her, and recounting my eventful weekend didn’t help. “I’ve got to give it to him, it is super romantic that he showed up out of the blue at the event.”

  I thought back to the evening, the wash of relief that overtook me when I recognized a familiar face—or familiar irises—in a sea of strangers. It was the kind of memory that manipulated my lips into a fond smile. “It was.”

  “And then he fed you tacos—that freaking gentleman—before taking you to Pound Town.”

  “You’re being vulgar again,” I said, but the raunchy comments incited my own indulgent grin.

  “Pound Town, population one.” She pointed both index fingers at me. “You.”

  “I get it, I get it.”

  “Okay, I’m done. On to more serious matters like, uh, what are you going to do next?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Was this a one-and-done, out-of-your system kinda thing? Or did his magical penis make you rethink dating again?”

  “I wouldn’t say rethink dating—”

  “So you have thought about it.”

  “—but I have to see him again. We’re doing that whole wellness thing, and I committed to doing eight weeks with him. I can’t stomach the thought of telling Mona and Leigh I’ve failed.”

  “Right, but you’re both adults, and it’s 2019. If you’re not feeling it, you can easily tell him ‘thanks, but no thanks,’ continue the program, then move on. You have no obligation to see him outside of your little arrangement.” She gestured in a circle with one of her curly fries.

  “The only problem being that he’s my neighbor, remember?”

  “And you’re both workaholics. It’s not hard to avoid each other even if you do live seven feet apart.”

  “And yet, somehow we’ve run into each other several times since the night we met. It’s almost too crazy to be coincidental.”

  She wiggled her brows. “So it is meant to be.”

  “He knows his way around the bedroom, sure, but that doesn’t make us soulmates.”

  “It’s a start. Some people think they’re made for each other, and then,” she extended her forearm and let it fall to her side in a rudimentary demonstration of male performance issues, “womp, womp. No sexual chemistry.”

  “True. Remember Ten-second Tate?”

  Holland put her face in her hands. “What did we say about bringing up painful memories, Ava? We don’t resurrect the ghosts of Holland’s disastrous dating past.”

  “Sorry. He was a good one, though. Such a stand-up guy.”

  “Until he couldn’t stand it up.”

  I snorted and plucked a curly fry off her plate. “This whole neighbor thing made me think of my upcoming lease renewal. Has Chicago stolen your heart yet?” Holland and I always talked about being roommates, but she had commitment issues. She’d never viewed the city as her long-term home, and because of that, she didn’t want to risk having to break a lease with me if she decided to move. That resulted in her paying far too much for short-term leases, over and over, despite still living here.

  She scrunched her nose. “I love a lot of things about Chicago, but I don’t think I can handle the winters forever.”

  “Uh-huh. Which team will Cade go to next?”

  Now it was her turn to peg me with a glare. “Where Cade plays doesn’t dictate where I end up. And, he has a girlfriend.”

  “He has a flavor of the month, but I think we both know who his soulmate is.”

  “You know, you play innocent, but you’re just as bad as the rest of our friends, with all that soulmate shit.” She dipped her fingertips in her water glass and flicked the drops at me.

  “But have you ever wondered, just for a second, what it would be like? You know you’re compatible, you have crazy chemistry even his girlfriends can detect, and you’ve somehow gone a decade without acknowledging it. He could be exactly what you’re missing.”

  “And Theo could be exactly what you’re missing, if you’d give up your pursuit of perfection. Perfection that doesn’t exist.”

  My nostrils flared. We were both throwing punches, and as much as I meant well, I knew Holland did too. Best friends could deliver the truth in a way that’d always be forgiven.

  “Fair point,” I relented. “How about a deal? I . . . explore whatever this is with Theo, if you do the same with Cade.”

  The mirth disappeared from her expression. “You know I can’t. I’m not willing to ruin a lifelong friendship for a chance at something that might not even exist. Less than a chance—a stab in the dark. You have nothing to lose with Theo.”

  We both knew that wasn’t true, because although Theo and I didn’t have near the amount of history she and Cade had, there was still plenty at stake.

  My heart, for one.

  My outlook on love that was already considerably damaged.

  My confidence that something in life could go right for once.

  I sank a little in my seat. “I could get hurt.”

  “We all could get hurt. We all do get hurt. But then we realize that while the vast majority of people are going to disappoint us, there are a few who prove to be worth the leap of faith. They surprise us. So, we dust ourselves off and try again.”

  There was that word again: surprise. The word I detested, the one I couldn’t account for in my agendas and plans. And the one that’d resurfaced time and time again throughout my short time knowing Theo.

  What did I have to lose? It was just my heart, right?

  I drained my glass before saying, “The whole night was enough to leave me conflicted. You have me there.”

  Holland’s eyes sparkled. “So he does have a mag
ical penis.”

  “No. Maybe. Anyway.”

  “Okay, okay. Enough about the penises, I know your ears are sensitive. But, seriously, reel that man in! You’ve already set the hook, if this weekend was anything to go by.”

  She said it so casually. Just reel him in. Like it was that easy. The only problem was, I wasn’t so sure how or if I’d hooked him in the first place.

  My oncoming confession loomed overhead during my entire commute and all the way up to the seventh floor. I had half a mind to duck into the safety of my apartment like a coward and promptly regret my decision to do so all night, but it was too late. I’d committed. I’d flaked out of too many things in life because they were too big, too scary for me to face, and this wasn’t going to be one of them. I am the only one standing in the way of my happiness, I told myself.

  Theo answered on the third knock. His expectant expression gave me pause. “Hey, you,” he said.

  “Hey yourself. Were you waiting for someone?”

  “I was hoping it was you.”

  “It is me.” I thought about what I’d come here to do, and where confessing my feelings was frightening in my imagination, it seemed nearly unthinkable now that I was looking Theo in the eye. He was leaning against the edge of his door with a dreamy smile, and I’d shown up at his apartment with empty hands and a bursting heart. But he didn’t know that yet.

  “Come in here,” he said, standing aside. I walked disjointedly into his kitchen and laid my hands on the cool countertop. I was drumming my nails against them when he said, “Tell me about your day.”

  “You don’t want to know why I’m here so late?”

  He leaned on his folded arms beside me and shrugged. “I figured you’d get to that.”

  “It was . . . unremarkable.”

  “That’s a good word.”

  I bounced my shoulders in a shrug that was meant to be casual. “I don’t have the brain capacity to think about that right now.” It was coming out all wrong. My voice came out higher pitched, and the tone didn’t sound anything like my own. I was blowing it. When I forced out a breath and put my head in my hands, heat climbing my neck, I felt his hand slide across my shoulders.