Chapter 15
15
S helby
The second night at work goes better than the first.
By the time I clock out and start the walk back to the Manor, I’m still a little sticky from spilled beer, but I did manage to stay on my feet all night. The place was packed with the fans that didn’t go to the arena to watch the game taking up every available seat and a good portion of the standing room.
I also quickly learn that there’s something surreal about serving drinks and food to hungry patrons while the guy who kissed me senseless is zipping across the ice on the big screen hanging over the bar. I hear his name on the mouths of the fans–both happy and frustrated–and my hackles raise.
Back off– he’s mine.
Of course he’s not. Not really. But tell that to my lips, and the other parts of my body that he set on fire, because they’ve never been claimed by anyone like that before. I didn’t even know it was possible.
Even with that distraction, I think I did a good job–at least that’s what the tips in my pocket feel like. I have a job. I earned my own money. I’ve been kissed.
I didn’t even consider these things when I got on that plane from Texas.
Halfway up the main hill in Shotgun, I hear the sound of music and people. The closer I get to the Manor, I start to see people. Lots of people. All mingling around the front yard of my brother’s house and up on the porch.
It comes back to me that Reid mentioned a party to the girl at the boutique earlier in the week. I search for a familiar face–my brother or any of his roommates. Jefferson is over by the fireplace, beer in hand, talking to two girls. His hand runs gently through his hair, touseling the feathered locks. Damn. No wonder he’s got girls lined up. I spot Axel’s blond hair, Nadia’s arms wrapped around his waist. Reese is sitting at the kitchen table, where they’re playing some kind of game. Twyler is on his lap, a wicked grin on her face.
My eyes dart past each face, but I can’t pretend I’m not looking for someone specific. My heart skitters when I spot him standing near the staircase, facing away from me. As I work my way toward my bedroom porch, I can’t help but admire the way his patterned button down fits perfectly across his shoulders, or the way his pants cling to his backside. There’s a swell of pride in my chest knowing what that body feels like up close; muscular, strong in a way I wasn’t aware a man’s body could be.
“Hey everybody!” Jefferson shouts across the room, “Axel’s little sister is here!”
The whole room shifts to look at me, but there’s only one person I’m keeping track of. Reid turns, his eyes meeting mine, but that’s not what I notice. It’s the fact he’s talking to a girl–the girl from the boutique. The one Reid invited.
“Shel.” Axel disentangles from Nadia and thankfully draws away my attention. He crosses the room and pulls me into a big hug. “How was work?”
“It was good. I made a little cash off all the people super excited you guys won your game.” I smile at him. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thank you and that’s awesome about the job.” He seems over the fact I’ve taken the job. Either that, or he’s drunk. “Go change and join us if you want.”
Definitely buzzed.
“Thanks. I’m a little tired, but I’ll see.” But I already know I’m not up to seeing Reid flirt with another girl. I know I have no claim to him. All he’s doing is showing me how to live a new and different life. Part of that has to be learning how to kiss a guy and not get attached.
“Cool.” He steps back and looks me up and down. I brace myself for some kind of overprotective bro moment but he just says, “You know, it’s been fun having you around.”
I smile. “It’s been fun being around.”
I don’t hesitate, and slip into my room, locking the door behind me, hoping to put some distance between me, Reid and the girl he’s here with. As usual, the little porch is a refuge–the sounds of the party muted. The first thing I do is turn on the little heater to take the chill out of the room and pull out the cash I made at work. I really feel proud of myself. It wouldn’t buy much in the real world, if I had to think about paying rent or bills, but it still feels good to know I can do it on my own.
I pull off the Badger Den T-shirt and hang it on the doorknob. I work again tomorrow night and I’ll need to wash it in the morning. Goosebumps rise on my arms from the cold room, and I rummage through my suitcase for a clean shirt, when I hear a knock on the door. Not the door that leads to the living room, but the one that leads out to the porch.
The sound startles me, but I ignore it, assuming it’s one of the party-goers looking for a shortcut into the house. There’s a second knock, this time followed by, “It’s me, GG.”
I grab the first shirt I can find and pull it over my head and go to the door. “Reid?”
“Yeah.” His voice is quiet, even for being on the other side of the door. “Can I come in?”
Unlocking the door, I slowly open it, seeing his chest first and then look up at his face. There’s a small grin toying with his lips. “Hi.”
“Hey.”
His eyebrow raises and I realize he wants me to let him in. I step back and he enters in a gust of that spicy scent that follows him everywhere. Shutting the door, I secure it and turn to face him.
“I saw you come in,” he says. “How was work?”
“Much better than last night.” I wrap my arms around my body and look up at him. “I saw some of your game. The fans in the bar thought you did a great job.”
He laughs. “I did okay.”
“Sounds like we both had a good night.”
“I can think of a few ways we can make it better.” One of those big hands reaches out for my hip, clamping down and dragging me close. Cupping my face with the other, he tilts my chin and adds, “Don’t you?”
He waits until I nod and his mouth is on mine. It’s just as unexpected, as thrilling, as the last time. I sink into it, into him , the strength in his jaw, the smooth thrust of his tongue. It’s so good, so delicious, my mind grows foggy and consumed. Is this what it’s always like? How it always feels? I have no experience to know, but it seems unlikely. Otherwise why would you ever stop?
He pulls back and rests his forehead on mine. “I’ve been thinking about that all day.”
He tilts his head to come in again, but I fist my hands in his shirt and pull him to a stop. “My brother is on the other side of that door.”
The sharp line of his nose skims from my ear to my jaw and says, “Your brother is busy,” before capturing my lips again. My brain short circuits, the neurons and synapses fried at the ends, but the image of the girl on the staircase has held firm.
“The girl,” I manage to get out between kisses.
He slows, looking down at me. “What girl?”
“The one you were talking to. The one you invited that works at the clothing boutique.”
“Ah. Nikki. I invited her because Emerson has a huge crush on her.”
“Emerson?”
“Yep.”
I have no idea if it’s true or not, but he’s in here with me and not her. Plus, his mouth tastes so good. He smells so good. Every single thing about this man feels unbelievably good.
Except he pulls back, a small smile playing at his lips. “Wait, are you jealous?”
“No.” I look away, defensively.
“You seem jealous.”
“I don’t know what I am,” I confess. “Or what this is. I’ve never done this before.”
He stills, studying me in a way that makes me even more uncomfortable. “Do you want to stop?”
“No.”
He studies me for a long moment, then he pulls me with him as he drops down on the couch, settling me on his lap. I’m still in the black skinny jeans that I wore to work that I borrowed from Twyler. His fingers find the ripped slashes along my upper thigh, and he drags the rough pads of his fingers over the exposed skin.
“Fuck,” he says, dragging me over his body. “Your mouth. I can’t get enough of it.”
“Same,” I breathe. I love kissing him too. It’s my new favorite pastime, but his hips thrust up and I feel him. Not just him. It. His erection. Oh God, and against the crotch of the tight jeans I’m wearing it feels amazing. Chasing the sensation, I rock into him again, and his hands push under my shirt rough and warm.
“Woah,” he says, through gritted teeth, “we should…” He inhales and exhales, puffing out his pink cheeks. “We should slow down.”
I let out my own breath, trying to calm my heartbeat and lower back down to his lap. He grimaces, then shifts me back, putting some space between us.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“What?” he asks. “Not a chance, GG.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “Why would you ask that?”
I glance between us, my face even redder than before. “You just look like you’re in pain.”
“Ah, yeah no, not pain.” He takes my hand and brushes his lips over my knuckles. “Just sensitive.”
“Okay.” I suddenly feel insecure. My body is wild with emotions. With feelings. With my own sensitivities that border on pain as much as pleasure.
“GG, look at me,” he says, eyes waiting to meet mine when I look up at him. “I know this thing between us feels like a lot, and I should keep my hands and mouth off of you?—”
“Please don’t?—”
He grins, or really, smirks. “I said I should, but there’s no fucking way I can stop. I like you, Shelby. You’re sweet. Beautiful. Fun.” His hand cups the back of my neck. “But you’re also innocent, and I don’t want to overstep.”
“You’re not,” I assure him. “I like this thing we have. Even if we have to keep it to ourselves.” And it’s not just Axel I worry about, although I know he’ll lose his mind. It’s David. My parents. It’s the promise I made, that although I’ve taken a step back, I know I still have to answer for. “You’ve taught me more about myself and how to live a full life in a few days than I’ve learned in a lifetime back home.”
His eyebrow raises. “You want me to keep teaching you?”
I nod, feeling a ripple of heat rise up my spine. “If you want to.”
He leans forward, our mouths nearly touching, and he says, “I want to do so many things with you.” His lips brush over mine, but he doesn’t deepen it. Instead, he gently lifts me off his lap and rises up. “But right now, I’m going to teach you what every twenty-year-old hottie in Wittmore wishes she was doing right now.”
“What’s that?” I ask, genuinely curious.
His fingers curl into mine. “How to party with the hockey team.”
We leave the porch separately, Reid through the exterior door and a few minutes later, changed into clean, non-beer-soaked clothes, me into the living room. From there, we start a discrete game of never being in the same place or same conversation as the other, rotating around the bottom floor of the Manor in an invisible dance.
Never in my life have I been so aware of another person.
It’s ridiculous. Humiliating even, how closely I track his every movement, every laugh. I catch the way the muscle in his jaw flexes, every crinkle near his eyes, and the way he holds a bottle of beer loose between his fingers.
I can’t stop thinking about his mouth against mine, the hard way his hands roamed over my body. I try to distract myself with the game Twyler is playing, the sensation of how he felt under me, thick and impressively hard.
“Ahh, my man, Jefferson. So you think you’re up to the challenge,” Twyler says, her long, dark ponytail bobbing behind her head.
“You may want to rein your girl in, Cap.” He cracks his knuckles and scoots his chair up with an exaggerated move. “She’s about to get sloppy drunk.”
“Twy can handle herself,” Reese says, squeezing her shoulder. “And I like her sober or drunk. Doesn’t matter to me.”
I watch as they prepare to begin and turn to Nadia, “So this game is just about getting your quarter into the cup?”
“Yep.”
“And if the other person gets it in your cup you have to drink?”
“Yep?”
“I don’t get it,” I say, watching Twyler sink her first quarter in Jefferson’s red cup. He swears, but takes a massive gulp. Reese plants a sweet kiss on her neck in response.
“There’s not much to get,” she says. “It’s a dumb drinking game. Twyler is just very good at it for some reason, so she loves to torture these idiots who can’t handle a girl beating them at anything so they always come back for more.”
“Ah, okay.”
“Come on.” She grabs my hand and pulls me away from the game. “I think there are some water bottles in the laundry room. Unfortunately, I have to work the opening shift at the gym tomorrow.”
She rummages around the other side of the washer and grabs two bottles, then hands me one. The overall crowd at the party has thinned out, but it’s nice to be away from the noise for a minute.
“You know,” Nadia says, eyeing the washing machine. “This is where your brother came onto me for the first time.”
I cough, the water catching in my throat. “Here? Really?”
“Yeah, I mean, it wasn’t the first time we’d been together,” she continues. “That’s what we fondly refer to as the epic fuck up, but yeah.” She taps the top of the machine. “Right here.”
I squirm at the topic and the fact bare butts have been on the washer that I use. She grins. “Fine, we won’t talk about Axel. What about you?”
My eyes widen and I squeak. “What about me?”
“I know you’re broken up with David. Just wondering if you’ve met any one you’re interested in.”
“No,” I say, quickly. Too quickly, apparently, because her eyes narrow in suspicion. “I’m not looking for a new boyfriend.”
“No one said you were, and look, I’m not going to suggest you go wild or anything–been there, done that– do not recommend.” She leans against the dryer. “But you came here to experience new things and college guys can be one of them.”
Twyler steps in the room. “Oh, there you are.” She pulls a keychain out of her hoodie pocket. “I didn’t want to disappear without giving you this. I know you forgot yours.”
Nadia snags it and crosses her arms. “Where are you going?”
Twyler gives her a look. “Where do you think?”
Nadia smirks at me. “Reese gets horny when he watches Twy win quarters.”
“Shut up,” her friend says. “It’s late and he’s worn out from the game.”
“Oh please,” I take a gulp of water trying to disconnect from this conversation, “we all know why he plants you on his lap like that while you play. He’s hiding his boner.”
A boner. I do know what that is. I may have grown up in a strict environment, but I’ve heard the boys quietly joking about things like this on the coed youth trips I took with the church. I lower my bottle and ask, “What are you going to do about it?”
Twyler’s big blue eyes land on me. “Uh, what?”
“When they get like that, guys, I mean…” I stumble around the words. “Like, when guys’ bodies get like that, what do you do to help?”
Twyler’s big eyes narrow suspiciously. “Is someone making you feel like you need to fix that? Because that is a classic d-bag move and you can tell them to fuck off.”
“No!” I say quickly. “No one is making me do anything. I promise.” I clear my throat because they both keep staring at me. “I’m just curious because David and I never went that far and I listen to you guys talk so openly about all this stuff and I feel like there’s a lot to learn.”
“Shelby,” Twyler sighs, “I have no desire to talk about all this stuff either but Nadia is a nosy bitch who has no boundaries.”
“It’s true.” Nadia nods vigorously. “I’m sex positive, so sue me.”
Twyler rolls her eyes. “But the truth is that it’s not that hard. When and if you’re with someone that you want to explore that part of your relationship with, just talk to them about it. They know what they want–”
“A blow job,” Nadia interjects with a snort. “They always want that.”
Twyler shakes her head. “God, they really do, right?”
“Mmhmm.”
I gape at the two of them. Like the boner, I know what a blow job is, but I could never.
“They’ll take whatever they can get. Blow, hand, feet, tits…” Twyler counts them off like this is the most normal discussion ever.
“Oh, the titty fuck,” Nadia nods enthusiastically, “that’s always a winner.”
I glance down at my boobs, unaware they had a job, other than breastfeeding.
“But,” Nadia adds, “that doesn’t mean you have to if you don’t want to. It’s really about communication.”
“And consent is important,” Twyler inserts. “The most important.”
I think back to every moment with Reid that got heated between us. He always asked me if I wanted something, even if he could kiss me. Every step of the way he’s made sure I was comfortable with it, and he’s always walked away first.
“Twy!” Reese’s voice carries into the laundry room from the kitchen. “You ready to go?”
“I better go,” she says, grinning just at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice. “Just remember, Shelby, you don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to. They’ll survive or take care of it on their own.”
“But,” Nadia adds with a mischievous grin, “it’s way more fun to help.”