64. willow
CHAPTER 64
WILLOW
BETTER THAN THE GLADIATOR BAND
The appointment went better than I ever could’ve expected.
My doctor and physical therapist were adamant that there was treatment, but I had to be patient with myself. Which meant daily stretches, using dilators to get comfortable with the sensation, and trying different types of lube to see what worked best.
I knew the perfect man to try with.
The only thing was, he was twenty minutes late.
In the lobby of Roman Villa, I relaxed in one of the chairs while hockey players yelled at each other over the ping pong tables. It was their natural state, shouting and swearing while Elijah riled up his teammates, until it was just down to him and their team captain, a match for the ages.
The lobby doors slid open, my evening plans walking through, fresh from the showers. I could see the droop in his shoulders, but his eyes lit up the moment he saw me.
"Hey, I’m sorry," King apologized. "I didn’t think they were going to keep me this late."
"No worries," I murmured.
"We’re having—I don’t know—the most important discussion of all time?" June smiled. "Does Captain King sound like a cereal brand? Should we patent it?"
King grinned and grabbed my backpack, leading the way for the elevators.
"Let me see if I have this right," June said, walking with us. "If someone calls, I say there’s a fire, and Willow’s helping me put it out, but she’s too busy to talk at the moment."
"And say I look great in firefighter red," I added.
As an independent twenty-year-old woman, I could have sex with who I wanted. But as an independent twenty-year-old woman who lived at home and didn’t want the people at home to know who she was sleeping with, June was my girl’s night excuse.
She got off on the second floor, and then it was King and I together. I tried to ask him about the gym, training, and captain duties, but the more floors we crossed, the quieter he became. I knew he was tired but I couldn’t keep down the excitement. It was my first time seeing King’s dorm and staying the night.
At his door, he cleared his throat before opening it.
His place looked like a Clorox ad. The pillows were fluffed perfectly on the couch, the TV was free of fingerprints, and all of the magnets and fliers on the fridge were straight.
"You cleaned. Wow."
His voice was quiet. "You have no idea."
"You’re so sweet."
I shrugged off my jacket and he was there, taking it from me. I smiled back at him, and a flush crept up his neck.
So cute.
"So—uh—the AC’s right there." He thumbed towards the panel on the wall. "I won’t touch it, you can do whatever to it. Your tea bags are in the kitchen. I have dinner in the fridge, looked up a bunch of healthy recipes for vocal…health? Rest? It’s one of those. But I can also order pizza."
"Thank you." I ran my fingers through the flowers on the counter. "These are beautiful."
"I want you to feel comfortable here," he admitted. "I don’t know how to say it."
"You’re doing a great job."
"I want this to be your space too."
Every sentence he spoke was sealing his fate towards immediate sex. What was therapy without testing it out? And we had the whole night to ourselves, no captain duties, no shows.
"So—uh—what do singers eat?" King opened the fridge. "Lots of vegetables, lots of fruits. Lots of water intake. Not a lot of dairy. Fried foods are cut. No soda. Nothing?—"
I touched his arm before he took out anything. "You did your research."
He nodded.
"I missed you today," I whispered.
King placed his hands on the counter behind me, gently pushing me up against it, all eyes on me.
"You don’t know how much I missed you," he said and that throaty touch to his words…oomf.
He dipped to kiss me.
God, yes. I had entire pages in my songwriting journal written about these kisses, how easily he moved against me, how easily he spiked my blood pressure, how easily he left me dizzy.
"I have to get started on dinner," he rasped.
I pulled him back and kissed him again.
"Willow—"
"Don’t stop kissing me."
He groaned and the groan vibrated against my lips, my tongue, my soul . "You haven’t eaten yet."
"I haven’t seen your bedroom either."
That was the push King needed. He picked me up, bringing my legs around his waist, and deepened the kiss, walking us off to the bedroom. He laid me on the bed and dipped to kiss my neck, until all I could focus on was his tongue.
"Let’s try," I panted. "I’m doing the Kegels."
"Close your eyes."
Is this part of sex?
I had to fight the impatience to have King inside me and closed my eyes while he left the bed. His footsteps went…somewhere in the kitchen? I couldn’t tell. But when he returned, his lips kissed my wrist.
"I’m sorry for before Austin," he whispered. "Hope you like it."
My eyes flashed open to see him, his dark hair disheveled, his jaw cut so goddamn fine, his lips, and…my wrist? It sparkled in the light from the window. Surprise coursed through me.
"It’s jade and gold."
"King," I managed, unable to say anything else.
The bracelet was so beautiful. I twisted my wrist, watching it like it might’ve disappeared any second now. And jade. Jade. It wasn’t just a bracelet, it was him showing how much he supported my music. Supported me.
My arms went around him again and I buried my face in his neck.
King held me tight while I struggled to breathe normally. Every time his body moved against mine, I tugged him closer.
"Do you like it?"
Overwhelmed, I nodded. "It’s—it’s so beautiful. Thank you."
"Mm. Better than the Gladiator band anyway."
My eyes flashed open. "Oh my god."
His rumbling laughter layered over my body, and I couldn’t be annoyed with him. Not really.
"You do know me," I whispered.
"Angel, I’d know you blindfolded," he murmured. "I’d know you if it’s the last thing I’m supposed to."
Now, we absolutely had to have sex.