On the Line

by Lincoln, Liz

  She couldn’t imagine, even a little. If she got a hangnail, it was in the back of her mind no matter what she was doing. Tension headache? Forget it, she was useless. And when she broke her ankle in high school, she’d driven her parents and Amy nuts with her complaining.

  At least she could admit she was a wimp.

  “You never stop hurting? Ever?”

  “Not during the season.” He pressed his lips to her shoulder, moving over her skin with wet, openmouthed kisses that made her shiver.

  “I do have”—he grazed his teeth along her collarbone—“a tendency”—his tongue drew a path to the hollow beneath her chin—“not to notice it so much”—wrapping her in his arms, he rolled to his back and settled her on top of him—“when I’ve got”—his lips found hers, tracing her lower lip with his tongue—“my mouth on you.”

  He sealed his mouth to hers and kissed her breathless. Her body came alive for him, her breasts lying heavy against his chest, nipples aching for attention.

  His big hands gripped her hips, guiding her movement as she rocked against him. His erection slid between her legs where she was hot and wet and ready for him.

  “You feel so good,” he murmured into her mouth.

  Their sex was more desperate this time, and they quickly found a frantic rhythm. For every time Carrie lifted her hips, then slammed back down, he pulled back, then lifted his hips to meet her. The result was a white-hot, breathtaking frenzy, two bodies desperately racing for completion.

  When he came, his fingers dug into her ass, hard enough she knew she would have marks tomorrow. It could have hurt if she didn’t love the possessive nature of it.

  Enjoying pain. Huh. Maybe she did get it. The adrenaline of sports wasn’t the same as the endorphin flood of orgasm, but ultimately, both she and Seth were enduring, almost enjoying, discomfort in order to experience something they enjoyed.

  Panting, she collapsed on his heaving chest. As his breathing slowed, he idly stroked her hair along her back. The rhythmic touch nearly soothed her to sleep. How nice would it be to drift off curled against the warmth of his body, wrapped in his arms, every night?

  Except she didn’t get to do that with Seth, for so many reasons. He wasn’t her boyfriend; this was just sex. She would have to remind herself of that every chance she got.

  Otherwise, it would be far too easy to forget.

  * * *

  —

  The sun warmed Carrie as she sipped her coffee on Seth’s back patio. She tried not to indulge in fantasies, like Mother Nature blessing the night of hot sex with an unseasonably warm morning after, but the silly idea did make Carrie smile. As if the previous night needed a reward. Multiple orgasms were their own reward.

  “There you are.” Seth’s voice drifted over, followed by the sound of the back door shutting.

  Carrie leaned her head back and watched him approach upside down.

  He bent over and kissed her, a soft, lingering brush of his lips against hers. He tasted like mouthwash and smelled like soap; his ponytail was still damp.

  She, on the other hand, was still in the flannel pants and sweatshirt she’d put on when they got out of bed. Too bad they couldn’t spend the whole morning together, making out, having sex, and boycotting clothes.

  “I gotta go.” He stood and moved to her side.

  “Stupid job,” she mumbled. “What kind of terrible employer would make someone work on a gorgeous Saturday like this?”

  “You’re a riot.” He had practice and meetings in preparation for tomorrow’s game. Which meant Carrie would be meeting Maddie at her swim meet. Maddie had convinced Emilia to join the team with her, so her parents had taken the girls to the early morning warm-up, saving Carrie from having to leave before sunrise.

  She did need to get moving, though, if she was going to get there before Maddie’s first race.

  Beside her, Seth’s posture stiffened. He cleared his throat.

  Uh-oh.

  “Look, uh, it’s probably best if we keep this…thing with us”—Seth waved his hand between the two of them—“between us.”

  Carrie didn’t know if she was relieved he hadn’t changed his mind about continuing whatever it was between them or offended that he wanted to keep it a secret. She settled for being glad he looked ridiculously uncomfortable.

  He scrubbed his hand over his beard. His gaze landed on her face, and his expression softened. “Not because I want to hide you. I promise.”

  Like his expression, something in her chest softened. A softness she liked a little too much. Which was dangerous.

  Seth stepped closer, cupping her cheek and stroking her skin with his thumb.

  Dangerous, but delicious.

  “I just think it’s best if Maddie doesn’t know. This move has been hard on her, and I don’t want to unsettle her more. Is that OK?”

  She didn’t love it, but it wasn’t like they could make out in front of Maddie anyway. “Yeah, I get it.”

  One side of his mouth turned up in a half smile that made her insides feel gooey.

  “Thanks. She’s gotten attached to women I’ve dated before, and takes it really hard when things end. I know this is different, but…”

  Carrie stood, only a breath of space between them. “I get it. You’re a dad. Maddie comes first.” She went up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips.

  He slid his arm around her waist and drew her closer. “Thank you for understanding.” His whiskers tickled her lips.

  As he sank in for a deeper goodbye kiss, Carrie let herself stop thinking and simply enjoy the taste and feel of him.

  Chapter 13

  Seth held the door to the comics shop open for Maddie. She didn’t need more, since her room was filled with stacks of them, but it was the only olive branch he’d been able to think of. And he’d reached the point where there was a permanent ache in his chest caused by the ever-widening gulf between his daughter and him.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” the skinny guy behind the register said.

  “Hey,” Maddie mumbled, staring at her feet. She hurried off to the left side of the store.

  Seth turned to follow her.

  “Hey, are you…Chamberlain?” the cashier asked.

  Seth closed his eyes. Dammit, of all the times for him to get recognized. This excursion was supposed to be about Maddie.

  But he wasn’t going to be a jerk just because the guy had bad timing.

  “Yeah. Hey.” He held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Brian.” For as skinny as he was, the guy’s handshake was solid. “I had no idea you were a comic book fan.”

  “I’m not really. But my daughter is. She lives for comics.” Seth inclined his head in the direction Maddie had gone.

  “Oh, that’s cool.” Brian nodded, head bobbing up and down in a way that made him resemble a chicken. “Let me know if you need any help finding something. And great meeting you. Good luck this weekend.”

  Seth smiled. “Thanks. Nice meeting you too.”

  Heading toward the back corner, he went in search of his daughter. He found her inspecting a large display of plastic figurines with small bodies and large squarish heads. She balanced four boxes against her chest as she reached for a fifth. Wonder Woman. Except she had strange, muted colors.

  Whatever. If it made Maddie happy, he’d buy it. Which felt suspiciously like trying to buy her affection, but if it garnered him even the slightest bit of goodwill, or opened the door to a non-hostile conversation, it was worth it.

  “One of your adoring fans?” she asked, her sarcasm so thick it was practically visible.

  Apparently he’d have to purchase the figurines before getting a chance for non-hostility.

  Ignoring her snark, he tried to see the boxes she held. “Who’ve you got to go with Wonder Woman?”

 
Maddie sighed. “Batgirl, Harley Quinn, Katana.”

  Which made four, and she held five boxes now. But he wasn’t going to argue math details. “Don’t you already have Wonder Woman and a few of the others?”

  “Not the Bombshell versions,” she said in a duh voice.

  “Oh, right.” Because he knew what that meant.

  His gaze caught on a figure with orange hair, dressed in green. Poison Ivy. His heart rate picked up and he put his hands in his jeans pockets to keep from reaching for the toy. Carrie probably already had one. And there was no way he could explain to Maddie why he wanted to get that particular one. Yet the idea of getting one for himself, to put on his computer desk to remind him of Carrie, was compelling. They probably made Iron Man too. He could get the pair.

  Which was a ridiculous idea. It was the sort of sappy thing men in love did to remind them of their wives. Lem had gotten a pair of bobbleheads made of him and Sarah for their tenth anniversary and they kept them on a bookshelf in their family room. He and Carrie weren’t even a couple. They were sex buddies.

  Sex buddies did not buy action figures to remind themselves of them as a couple. Because of the whole not-a-couple part.

  “Here.” She shoved the white boxes at Seth. He barely managed to catch them all before she disappeared around the back of the display.

  “Hey, can I get a couple for Carrie?”

  A present for Carrie? Hadn’t he just decided that was a bad idea? Or sort of, anyway.

  But this was different, because it would be from Maddie.

  Seth joined his daughter on the other side of the shelves. “What did you have in mind?”

  She handed him a box containing a female superhero with brown skin and hair, a red, white, and blue costume, and a blue mask over her eyes. “Ms. Marvel. Carrie really likes her.” She gave him her winningest smile. The one she knew would get her whatever she wanted.

  He reached for the shelf. “Let me guess, you want one too?” He grabbed another and added it to the stack he held balanced on his forearm, leaning against his chest.

  “Thanks, Dad.” She wandered down another row of shelves, all containing action figures and other collectibles.

  For the first time in days, Seth could almost draw a full breath as he followed her through the store. She was smiling, and had managed to go a whole five minutes without rolling her eyes or making a snotty remark.

  “How come you never tell me about my mom?” she asked matter-of-factly as she rounded the end of yet another aisle. Her tone was so casual, it took Seth a moment to realize what she’d asked.

  When he did, it felt like a punch caught him right under the rib cage. He could barely breathe for a second. Everything in him tensed, bracing for a fight.

  “Because she left when you were a baby,” he spit out. The few pleasant memories he had of Jessa were vastly overshadowed by her abandonment of her own infant. “Why would you care?” He loved Maddie enough for two parents.

  She stopped and gave him a withering stare. “I don’t know. Maybe because she’s my mother?”

  Only in the strictest biological sense of the word. “I’ve told you everything I know about her.” Maybe that wasn’t 100 percent true. He’d glossed over details about how cold Jessa could be. The lack of emotion she’d shown toward their child.

  He definitely wasn’t going to tell Maddie how Jessa called every few months asking for money, but rarely asking about their daughter. The first few times, Seth had asked her if she wanted to know anything about Maddie. Her answer had always been a genuinely confused “Why?”

  “She took off before I got to know her very well.”

  “You knew her well enough to have a kid.”

  “Two stupid-drunk college kids don’t need to know much of anything for one of them to get knocked up.” As soon as the words came out, Seth regretted them, even if they were true.

  Maddie winced, closing her eyes. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her he hadn’t meant that the way it sounded, that his bitterness was all for Jessa and not at all for her, but he couldn’t. Besides the stupid figures he carried, everything about Maddie’s posture screamed not to touch her.

  “So I’m a mistake,” she whispered.

  Fucking hell.

  He shoved the damn toys onto a shelf and took Maddie’s shoulders. He turned her toward him, but she didn’t open her eyes. He wanted to scream at her, he wanted to hold her forever, he wanted to puke. How had tonight gotten so royally fucked up?

  “No. Absolutely no. We didn’t plan you, but you have never, ever been a mistake, Madison.”

  When she finally opened her eyes, her glare was sharp enough that it felt like glass tearing through his heart. “Coulda fooled me.” She jerked out of his grip and stalked away.

  Seth reached her in two large steps, grabbing her arm. “You can stop this tantrum right now. I know this move has been hard and the season is tough on you. I hate that it’s so hard for you. But never, not once in your life, have I treated you like a mistake. I love you more than anything. You might not believe it, but even football is a very distant second to you, Madison Deanna Chamberlain. From the second I first held you, you have been the best, most important thing in my life. You can be mad at me for plenty of things, including dragging you to a new city. But treating you like a mistake isn’t one of them. Treating you like I don’t love you so much it hurts sometimes isn’t one of them. So go right ahead and stay pissed at me for the shit Jessa did if that’s what you need to do. But you don’t ever tell me again that you’re a mistake.”

  They stood in weighty silence for endless moments, Maddie staring at her feet, Seth trying to get his temper under control. Finally Maddie turned away from him. “I’m gonna go find a few comics.” She shuffled away.

  Empty and deflated, Seth gathered up the stupid action figures and headed for the register.

  Chapter 14

  The crowd roared as the Dragons ran onto the field for the second half. Carrie and Maddie stood with everyone else, clapping. Carrie’s eyes scanned the players’ jerseys as they jogged out of the tunnel to her left. Even with seats so close—second row, forty-yard line—she couldn’t really tell one player from another. They all looked huge in their uniforms, though admittedly some were bigger than others.

  Finally her gaze found number 52, with his long hair loose and flowing out the back of his helmet. To keep from grinning and giving herself away, she opened her mouth and yelled, “Let’s go, Dragons!” The sound blended in with the rest of the whoops and hollers around them but drew a suspicious look from Maddie.

  Carrie pretended not to notice. She couldn’t explain the sudden increase in her interest in football to a twelve-year-old. Working for Maddie’s dad only explained so much.

  The Dragons kicked off, one of the Kansas City players caught the ball and waved his arm, and then men flowed onto the field as others returned to the bench. Then the Chiefs’ offense and the Dragons’ defense lined up at the seventeen-yard line.

  Seth was on the far side of the field, pressed up against a massive guy—even compared to all the other players—and trying to get around him; since Carrie couldn’t take her eyes off him whenever he was on the field, she missed whether anyone caught the ball.

  It was torture, watching Seth crash into his opponents on each play, especially knowing how much his hip hurt him. When she and Maddie watched games on TV, there was a distance, the violence a step removed from the living room. Plus, the camera rarely focused on Seth except when he was making a play.

  Everything was so much more immediate, seeing the game in person. So close to the field, she heard the crash of the players’ gear as they made contact, the grunts the impact pulled from them.

  “What’s with the sudden interest in football?”

  There it was. Of course Maddie wasn’t going to let it go without asking.


  Carrie opened her mouth, hoping a credible answer would come out. None did; fortunately, the Dragons made a good play and the crowd cheered, giving her an excuse to wait until Maddie could hear her answer. Those few seconds gave her time to think of something to say.

  “I’ve been doing a little research, about all the science involved in the game,” Carrie said. It wasn’t a complete lie. She had dug into the physics and math involved in the game, because she was that nerdy. It just wasn’t the reason for her newfound fandom. It was more a result of it.

  She couldn’t imagine Seth or Maddie would find her newfound knowledge as fascinating as she did, but who cared? Between her research and watching a few Monday night games with him, she could almost imagine herself enjoying the sport. She was at least starting to understand it better.

  On the field, Seth wrapped himself around a Chiefs player carrying the ball. Holding on to the other man’s waist, Seth dragged them both to the ground. Maybe it was Carrie’s imagination, but it seemed like she could hear the thud as their bodies hit the turf.

  “So you’re only into the math and physics?” Maddie asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I didn’t say that.” She needed to pull a statistic out of her head quickly, to appease the girl. “But it got me more interested. I’d explain all the nerdy stuff I find fascinating, like force and acceleration and torque, but you’d—”

  “Be bored to tears,” Maddie finished. Shaking her head, she grinned. “Wow, I thought I was a nerd.”

  Carrie grinned back. “Gee, thanks.” She looked back to the field in time to see Seth and his teammates jogging to the side, while other Dragons ran onto the field. It appeared as if the Chiefs were setting up to kick a field goal.

  When Seth and she had watched the Monday Night Football game together last week, he’d explained that the defense’s job was to stop the opponent from scoring a touchdown. But if the team on offense got far enough down the field, sometimes they tried kicking a field goal rather than punting the ball to their opponent. A field goal was worth three points, half as many as a touchdown. From his perspective, the worst case was when the other team scored a touchdown, best case when they had to punt. A field goal was somewhere in between.