Tim nods. “You protected my rotator cuff. I might even be doing the butterfly by spring semester if I push it in PT.”
Olive’s smile brightens her whole face, and I reach over to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear so I can see her glowing. She should be basking in this happiness. Not sad that some dick-wad on a power trip yelled at her. “You should tell all this shit to Olive’s former boss,” I mutter, squeezing Olive’s leg in support.
Kev whips his head my way. “What do you think we’ve been doing this afternoon?”
Tim nods. “It’s true. First stop I made after I got discharged. I told everyone who would listen—Emily says hey, by the way, Olive.” He takes a swig of water and then struggles to get the cap back on his water bottle one-handed. Kevan reaches for it and closes it for him. “Anyway, Justin was a total jerk to me and I didn’t want to stick around and deal with him today, but I wanted to let you know I’m doing all that I can for you, Olive, to get you back in there.”
Olive’s eyes well up with tears and she grabs for his hand. Gently, I guess. “You have so much on your plate, Tim. You don’t have to worry about me. Tell me what happened with your family?”
Kevin’s jaw tightens while Tim tells us about his dad yelling a bunch of unpleasant, backwards shit, but Tim’s been texting with his mom and sister. “I think it’ll be ok, eventually,” he says. “Honestly, my mom says she sort of knew but it scared her.” Kevan tells us that his mom actually called Tim’s mom, and it sounds like that was helpful since Kev and his family are literal poster children for happiness.
“Anyway,” I say, clearing my throat. “What I was going to say was Finnegan and I might have a solution for you, Olive.”
“Really? Because Justin hates you almost as much as he hates me.”
“Fuck that guy. No, I think I got you another work study gig. Still in the athletic department, even.”
Olive’s eyes widen and I rub a thumb along her knuckles. “I mean, it’s not anything really using your skills like the training room, but Fin’s girl Leslie says the pay is the same. You’d be in the laundry room…”
I watch Olive’s face work through a series of emotions. Tim coughs. “The laundry room?” She nods her head and starts to whisper. “Eye on the prize, right? I can stay in school at least. Right?”
“Right, baby.” I drop a kiss on her forehead and wonder if Kevan can feel me loving on her, if that shit makes him uncomfortable, but I get the strong sense that he doesn’t give a shit because he’s rubbing Tim’s leg.
Tim shakes his head. “No. That’s ridiculous. Olive cannot fold sweat towels. I’m going to fix this, Olive, I promise. This is my fuck up. If I’d just been open about myself years ago, this would never have happened…”
“Hey,” I interrupt. “First of all, nobody in this room can fault you for not being honest and open. Look at me and Olive. She wouldn’t have been at that banquet with you if I’d been honest with her sooner, right?” Tim rolls his eyes. “And second, I appreciate you wanting to help. I do. But I’m going to take care of my girl. There’s no reason she can’t enroll in the graduate program she’s looking at while she folds towels. Right?” Kevan’s eyes go wide. Olive stiffens a bit. “Babe?”
She swallows and shakes her head. “I just don’t see a way, Bax. Without a recommendation from Justin, with getting fired…no references…what program would take me?”
The air is heavy and quiet for a few minutes until Kevan clears his throat and declares it time for him to get Tim home for ice and stim.
“Gross, Kev,” I say, flicking him. He pulls me in for a hug and they take off down the hall.
I eye up the ladder to Olive’s loft bed and I know there’s no way in hell my ass is getting up there. “Come on,” I say to her. “You’re sleeping at my place.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Olive
Bax and I walk to his suite hand in hand, him carrying my overnight bag. This feels so much the same as before, and yet so different. There’s a huge weight lifted, even though my life is crashing down right now. I told Bax I love him. He loves me back. He found me a replacement job…even if it does kind of suck. I can never say that out loud to him.
I sigh and lean my head against his shoulder. I’ll fold towels for a few months if I need to. I can finish my degree. Who knows? Maybe I can get a job in a clinic or something and put off grad school for a year. That will give me more time to figure out where Bax gets drafted anyway. After the game he had this week, it seems pretty certain he will go in the first round. I heard Scotty and Coach talking about it.
“I love that you found me a new job,” I tell him, kissing his shoulder. We get to Bax’s suite and he waves at his roommates, who all sort of grunt without turning away from their video game. Bax tugs me into his room and, shutting the door, pulls me into his arms.
“I’ll do anything to keep you by my side,” he says, kissing my neck.
“That feels really nice.”
“Which part?” He asks, kissing again, dragging his tongue up my throat.
I let my hands explore his shoulders, tickling down his chest. “All of it,” I tell him. “Knowing you care. Feeling your kisses. All of it.”
“I want you to feel all my kisses,” he tells me, and warmth blooms throughout my body, pulsing in my center as he tugs me closer.
I stretch up to meet his mouth with mine, groaning into his kiss. Everything about last night was so perfect. Even if I have a tinge of soreness today, I know it will fade and Bax will make me forget it by delivering waves of pleasure again. “I want to feel all of you,” I tell him. “I want to figure out my favorite way to be close to you.”
He smiles and rubs his stubble against my cheek. “I’ve got some ideas to test out,” he says, and for the next few hours, we work on some experiments.
My alarm goes off at the same time as Baxter’s, but I realize I don’t actually need to be up at this hour. I am not going to the training room today. I’m not going to stretch anyone’s sore muscles, tape any ankles, or heal anyone’s injuries. I untangle my limbs from Baxter’s and try to roll to the side of his bed.
He tugs me back closer. “Oh no you don’t,” he says, spinning me to face him. I see his brown eyes twinkle in the morning light. “No feeling sorry for yourself today.”
“You said I could have a day…”
“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he says, swatting my back side. I yelp from the sting of his palm, and then I moan when he starts to rub the spot he smacked. “Mmm,” he says. “I wish I had time.” He crawls under the covers and bites me on the ass, making me shriek. “I gotta get to the weight room, Livvy. But I’m marking this spot for later so I can pick up where we left off.”
I hear someone pound on the door. “Morgan,” Scotty yells. “Get your shit together. Finnegan’s driving in five.”
Baxter kisses me one more time and springs up, pulling on sweats and a pair of sneakers from his closet. “I’ll find you later, ok?” I nod. “Leslie is supposed to call you today from financial aid. Be ready.”
I smile again, watching him walk away. Eventually, I get up and make myself a coffee in Baxter’s kitchen before heading to class. My phone rings, and I start to think that Leslie is pretty damn efficient to be calling before nine on a Monday, but when I look at my phone, I see an out of state number.
“Hello?”
“Olive Hampton? Bradford Clark. We met at the athletic banquet.”
Bradford Clark? I rack my brains and come up empty. I’m about to mutter some excuse, when he carries on. “I know there was some excitement there toward the end. That’s what I’m calling about. I just spoke with Tim Peterson.”
Bradford is the kinesiology professor from Ann Arbor. I remember meeting him at the banquet, before everything erupted. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to email, sir…”
“Well, from the sound of things, you’ve been a busy lady,” he says. “Look, I won’t keep you from class. I just wanted to let
you know that I’ve got my eye on you. Anyone who can pull off a Boss-Holzach Matter technique in heels at a banquet is someone I want in my program.”
“I, um…I don’t know what to say,” I manage to mutter as my insides swirl with possibilities.
“I’ve known the Peterson family for a long time,” he continues. “Tim’s dad and I go way back.” He pauses, and I wonder if he’s aware of Tim’s falling out with his family after the events of this past weekend. “Anyway, between this hero move and your excellent work getting Tim into butterfly shape after the back spasms, I think it’s safe to say we have room for you. Have you done much work with baseball?”
“Baseball?” This is all moving so quickly. I can’t quite keep up and I feel like I should be taking notes. Bradford explains that he’s going to be the principal investigator on a shoulder study for the pitchers on the top-ranked Ann Arbor baseball team as soon as his grant comes through, which should be next fall. “It’ll be good to have my research team in place,” he says. “Have you applied for our program yet?”
Bradford and I talk a bit more about my situation. When I tell him I’ve been fired from the training room at SCU, he says, “Hmmm,” in a low growl, but doesn’t elaborate. After a long pause, he says, “Well, like I said, anyone who can keep her cool while an athlete pukes on her and still reset the joint like a boss…Olive, I want you in my program. Put your application together and send it all directly to me, ok?”
By the time we hang up, I’m late for class and I’ve evidently missed a call from Leslie. Everything is happening at once, but I can’t help smiling at the anticipation of it all. So this is what it feels like when things are going well for a change, I think, typing my grad school application on the sly from the back row of my econ lecture.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Six Months Later
Baxter
Draft day. The day I’ve been looking forward to for twenty years. I wake up with my girl in my bed and my dick hard against my stomach. I don’t even think I can concentrate to even deal with a hard-on. My insides are a wreck.
The past couple of months have been surreal for me. Olive got to stay in school thanks to the work study job in the laundry room. She said she didn’t mind washing sweat towels, but I think that’s mostly because I helped her shower after every shift. And I’ve gotten really fucking thorough when it comes to making sure my girl is clean.
The situation with Justin took care of itself when a couple of the graduate student trainers filed a complaint against Olive’s former boss. He’d been messing with all kinds of shit in the training room, taking people off their cases and wrecking their graduate research. By the time the athletic director fired him, he got dozens of phone calls about inappropriate shit that douche did to women, dating back years.
As soon as they hired a new head trainer, I made sure Olive was back in there where she belongs. She threw me through a loop, though, when she told me she wanted to stick with the swim team. She says she’s got a lot to learn about shoulders to be ready to dive into her grad program in the fall.
Surprisingly, I don’t even miss the extra time with her, because I get to spend all night with her now. I can’t believe there was a time when I didn’t spend every night with my face between her legs, making her scream my name in bed way louder than she ever screamed from the bleachers at a football game.
Olive stirs and opens her eyes. Then she feels my rock-hard third leg between us and she drops a hand to it. I wince at the contact. “Oh,” she says. “Someone is excited about draft day.”
“I feel like I might puke,” I tell her. Most of the guys expected to go in the first round are camped out at home with their families and their agents. Everyone I care about in the world is right here at Stone Creek University, so I see no reason to go anywhere. Which means the TV crew is showing up at my suite in a few hours.
“Want to see if I can help you relax?” Olive’s gotten real frisky, and I’m going to be really honest and say I fucking love that. We have years to make up for, and we’re making a good effort to get caught up. “Why don’t you lie back and let me help you,” she tells me, pushing me onto my back.
I lace my fingers together behind my head while she climbs up on top of me. Olive fell asleep wearing one of my jerseys, and I love that she’s got nothing else on. Just my name on her back and nothing else. She climbs on my lap and I feel her wriggle those hips around as she kisses her way down my chest. “Oh, shit,” I say when her mouth drops to my cock. I thought she was going to ride me this morning, but I’ll take this. I’ll take whatever she wants to give me.
Olive’s tongue circles the throbbing tip of my cock, her little hand around the base squeezing me rhythmically until I feel like I’m going to blow all over her face. “Olive,” I whisper. “Baby. Shit, that feels good.”
Olive looks up at me with those chocolate eyes as she opens her mouth. Her plump lips sink down my shaft and it feels so good, so wet. I think my eyes roll up into my head. “Mmmm,” she moans, slipping off my dick. “You’re so hard. You should get that checked out.”
“Very funny,” I choke, as she dives back down onto my dick. I feel my tip hit the back of her throat and keep on sliding as she starts moving her head up and down. “Olive,” I whisper. I need her to stop or I’m going to blow a gasket, but she raises her eyebrows at me and redoubles her effort.
A few more pumps of her fist and I’m a goner. My hips thrust up off the bed as I spurt into her mouth, groaning and clutching at my pillow. “Damn, Livvy.”
Olive pops off, grinning, and wipes her mouth with the back of her forearm. “Feel better?” She asks. When I nod, she slaps my stomach. “Good,” she says. “Now get up and get dressed. The crew will be here soon and we need you looking relaxed.
Olive sits on the arm of my couch chewing on her lip. Kev and Tim are here eating snacks that Tim’s mom had sent over. He’s still not eating carbs, which is why Kev’s mom sent along bread sticks…so we’d have options. Kev isn’t interested in going pro. He and Tim have big plans to take over the business world after graduation. They both have jobs lined up at some sort of foundation for gay teens.
Olive’s grad program sent a box of Ann Arbor gear with a note in it. My agent got a call from Detroit last week, and I know people have been talking. Olive’s mentor and Tim’s dad apparently know the coach from Detroit and told him how I kept my cool at the banquet. My agent got a text that said something about how he needs another hothead tackle like he needs a hole in the head. I was confused about all of it until Olive assured me they are all excited about me. My dad was fucking wrong about everything. People want me on their team and I can be an asset on and off the field.
I try not to focus too much on Detroit, though. Anything could happen, and I know Olive and I will be together no matter what. Her grad program isn’t forever. We have all the time in the world to be together, and when I go pro, I’ll be able to fly her to wherever I am whenever I want. First class, like she fucking deserves.
I start to sweat as the film crew turns on the lights while the draft begins. Detroit gets to pick first since they had such a bad season last year. But defensive players hardly ever go first. Can’t set my hopes on this too much.
I feel Olive rubbing my shoulder, but the sound of my heart drums out everything else in the room. I try to focus on the TV, but my mouth is thick and I can’t swallow.
And then the room erupts. Kev and Tim are on their feet, and Finnegan and Scotty start dumping champagne over my head. My agent leans against the wall with a smile and starts to say something, but I have to find my center. My gravity.
I look to Olive and pull her down on my lap. “What just happened,” I ask, leaning my forehead against hers.
She rubs her hand down my cheek. “You got drafted by Detroit, Bax.”
“We’re going to be together,” I whisper, pulling her hand into mine.
“Always,” she tells me, and she pulls me in for a kiss as I see the flash bulbs pop
around the room.
EPILOGUE
Baxter
I pace around the apartment anxiously, waiting for Olive to get home from her clinical. This is my one day off before I’m on the road for a week and I’m missing my girl so much I could scream. The past two years have been rough, between my schedule and Olive’s. She’s working with a really prestigious shoulder study and has been following the baseball team around while she works with their pitching squad.
Of course, baseball’s schedule is basically the opposite of pro football. She’s busy during my down time and I’m barely here in season. But we’re making it work. At the end of the day, we come home to each other, or else we call each other. There’s a lot of love in my house, and this is the first time I can say that.
I have a whole speech worked out for what I want to say to Olive when she walks in the door, but when it opens and she steps in, shaking out her ponytail, I forget my words. The light catches her and her hair fucking glitters as it falls around her shoulders.
Her work uniform—khakis and a polo—isn’t anything particularly sexy, but when I see her curves I just can’t hold myself together anymore. I cross the room in just a few steps and I pull her into my arms.
“Wow,” she says when she breaks the kiss. “You’re intense today.” She tries to back away, like she’s going to slip into the room and shower before we get dinner. But I don’t want to let her go.
“Olive,” I breathe, and I pull her back in. My lips close on hers and I’m telling her I want to be with her, I want her forever and longer than that.
“I love you, too,” she tells me as I tug her shirt free from her waistband. “Oh!”
I sink to my knees on the carpet in front of her and yank down her pants. “I want you,” I tell her.
“You’ve got me—oh!” She kicks her feet to step free of her pants, and before she can readjust, I hook her behind the knees and lower her to the floor. “You tackled me!” She squeals, giggling. I’m so hard, I’m convinced all the blood has left my head and is flowing directly to my cock. The anticipation of today has affected me more than I thought.
Stone Creek Page 27