Chapter 19
19
Cade
E ven after Brady’s death, football was like going to a therapist. The smell of the grass. The hash marks on the field. Players talking smack. Coaches yelling. It’s like coming home.
I line up, staring straight ahead. No one is across from me since we’re only running plays. Limbering up and stretching our muscles in a way that should be fun. In this case, though, I can’t find the enthusiasm.
Aidan hikes the ball, and I take off for my route. Fake a left, then run along the sidelines. I peer over my shoulder for the ball, and there it is, sailing right in my direction. I gauge the distance, the speed, all within seconds to turn on the throttle so I can make it to the ball.
Breath saws out of my lungs. I’m trying to stay hyper focused on that spiral, but I’m distracted. I’m not only thinking about catching the ball, Charley’s in my head. Or Charley’s father, rather.
I stretch out, jumping at the last second. The ball grazes my fingers. Barely. I think I only got my middle finger on it before I’m plummeting toward the cold, hard ground and skidding.
No catch.
The offensive coach says something to me, and I nod in return as I get up. His words go in one ear and out the other, my brain filled with a rushing in my brain ever since Charley told me her dad called her a tramp.
A tramp .
But the thing that’s beating me up the most is that I never guessed it. This whole time, thinking Charley was a regular college student, only to find out about this . I thought she was a tough nut to crack. One of those moody girls who’s a good fuck, but the fact that she had her shields up the entire time?—
“Farmer, what in the hell are you doing?”
I glance up.
“Get on the line. We’re going again!”
“Got it, Coach.” Shaking my head, I jog toward the line where everyone else is waiting for me, and we run the exact same play again. This time, I’m more off. Aidan underthrows it, and I can’t make the correction.
Aidan throws his hands up like he can’t believe I missed the catch. The pressure that was slowly building inside me snaps. “There are four other receivers on the field, bro!” I yell, making my way back to the line. My feet heavy like cement, the only other thing I can really feel is the beating anger of my heart.
“Try catching the ball!”
“Try throwing it to me.”
“Dude, I’m throwing it where they’re telling me. We’re practicing. Get it?”
“Take ten,” the offensive coach calls with a sigh.
I blow out a breath, and Aidan walks toward me. “Man, you’re usually begging me to throw you the ball. What’s up?”
A million thoughts go through my head at once. It would be nice to talk to someone about this, but Charley didn’t want me to know. I peer up, finding her at Coach’s hip, like usual, but they’re on the other side of the field, running defense.
“Something up with you and Charley? Everything seemed cool earlier.”
I shake my head. “It’s not me and her.” God, she’s so gorgeous. The way her black hair complements her skin. Those big, beautiful eyes. Full lips. The cold gives her face the tiniest bit of a red tint, especially in the cheekbones.
At first, I was so confused why the guys weren’t talking about her. If there was a good-looking girl on the support staff, we heard about it. Constantly. But Charley tries to make herself invisible. And now I know why…
“Then?”
“It’s complicated,” I tell him, reaching for a cup of Gatorade on the table. “I don’t think she’d want me saying anything, but I just found something out about her home life, and it’s not so great. It’s messing with my head, man.”
Aidan swallows some Gatorade of his own, and with perfect form, shoots the empty cup into the trash can. “I totally get it. I don’t know if you remember, but Bailey’s mother was an issue when we first got together. She actually didn’t want us together at all, but that wasn’t the worst part. It was the way she treated Bails that got to me.”
“It’s getting under my skin.”
“That’s because we want to protect them.” His lips quirk into a smile. “It’s that caveman part of us—or so Bailey would say.”
“I’m feeling that right now. In spades.”
“It’s tricky when it’s family because you don’t want to overstep. Be there for her. Stick up for her but also let her fight her own battles.”
It certainly seems like Charley is ready to fight. Seeing her cry in my arms was heartbreaking, and I understand why she broke down now. Tramp? Ridiculous.
“If it’s a parent thing, remember that in all likelihood, you’re going to have to figure out a way to get along with them, too. If you’re serious about her, you’re in it for the long haul.”
“I’m serious about her.”
“We all noticed the necklace, bro. You don’t have to tell us.” He gives me a playful shove. “Think about your next steps like a play. You just have to figure out which route you’re going to take. The one that’s best for the team, even if the one you really want to take is to protect her at all costs.”
“Are you a psych major? Damn.”
“I’m a man of many talents, which include throwing you perfect passes if you would get your head out of your ass to make a catch.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter because he’s right. I make a square over my chest and point to it. “Don’t forget, right here.”
Coach calls us back to practice, and sure enough, Aidan hits me right between the numbers for a completed pass. It nearly bounces off my chest, but I secure it before jogging out of the play.
“’Bout time, Farmer,” he calls out, and I give him the one-finger salute. His laughter rings out over the field. “Round of applause for a receiver who actually receives the ball!”
He’s got a point. Not about his stupid receiver joke, but about running the right play when it comes to navigating this stuff with Charley’s dad. Just because he’s sick doesn’t mean he can treat her that way. I never asked what ailment he had. It doesn’t sound like a temporary sickness like the flu. It sounds like it’s something they’ve been dealing with for a long time.
Jesus. What if it’s cancer? Here I am talking shit about a man that might be dying from cancer.
Coach claps his hand two times. “Farmer!”
I better get my head in this practice before they bench me for the next game. Even I’m getting irritated with myself.
I pick up the pace into a jog. “On it, Coach.”
For the next thirty minutes, I’m more on point, but when they call practice, I’m relieved. I haven’t had that bad of a run-through in a long time. The offensive coach side-eyes me while I walk off the field. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”
He and I have been working together for a long time, and I’m thankful he doesn’t bring me into his office like I’m a freshman who doesn’t know what he’s doing. A lecture is the last thing I need right now.
Ever since Charley and I have started seeing each other, I make sure that I’m the last player out of the locker room. Sometimes, I can walk her out of there, and other times, she has to stay later to clean something or get something to Coach. But today, we’re the last two. Coach has even left.
I’m peering into his empty, dark office when Charley comes up behind me. “He had a doctor’s appointment.”
I turn in her arms, filtering my fingers through her hair. “Does that mean we’re in here alone?”
She nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she eyes me coyly. I recognize the heat in that gaze. Damn. She’s stunning.
“I know you probably have so many questions and want to talk about things, but I vote we go to your room before I have to go home. Real quick.”
“Why go all the way to my room?”
I start to kiss her neck, and she sighs, a perfect, blissful noise. “Here? Couldn’t anyone walk in?”
“I won’t let anyone see.” I should be asking her about her dad and making plans, but she has a hold on me. If this is what she wants, who am I to deny her?
I run my hand up under her shirt, across her ribs, and squeeze her breast. A moan escapes her throat.
“Are you sore?”
She shakes her head. “Only aching because I’ve been thinking about you. I saw you catch that pass.”
“You liked it?”
She nods, lifting my shirt and dipping her head to place a trail of kisses along my abs. I tug it over my head, keeping it in my hands as I walk her backward to a bench in the rear of the locker room. The whole row of lights in this section is off, leaving us in shadow.
I sit, pulling her hips to stand in front of me while I unzip her jeans and work them down her hips along with her panties until she’s exposed to me. She peers around, gaze darting everywhere. “Scared?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re going to hate this.” I move forward, fitting my tongue between her legs, then spreading her so I can run it over her clit.
She grabs my shoulders. “Cade.”
My cock tents my pants painfully. I love my name on her lips. The way she holds on to me for support, nails digging into my shoulders.
“I can’t stand up on my own for this.” Her legs wobble. She gets so turned on from oral, and it makes it worse for me because I love giving it. The taste of her sex. The command I have over her.
“Just making sure you’re ready before you ride me.”
“You want me to—” She breaks off on a moan when I spread her legs, my finger working between her folds. “I’ve never?—”
“I need you to.”
She reaches for me, helping me unzip my pants and working them down just enough to free my cock. I return to tasting her, tongue lapping at her folds, then teasing the bundle of nerves that really get her legs shaking.
“Condom,” she squeaks.
I put up a finger, then kick off my pants on the way to my locker before sitting in front of her again, my boxers at my knees, my dick at attention. I tug at the bottom of her shirt, and she peels it off, leaving her in her bra, her breasts spilling out with every heaving breath.
I hand it to her. “Roll it on me. I’m going to make sure you’re nice and ready.”
Spreading her legs wide again, I tease her clit with the pad of my thumb before brushing over her wet folds. My finger finds her entrance, and I circle her there, her breath catching while she shakily rips open the package. I slip past, driving into her, and her knees buckle for a moment before she regains her stance.
“It’s really hard to do this while you’re doing that.”
God, she’s so ready for me . My finger sinks in easily, and her hips move to take me in. She rolls the condom on, stroking it near the bottom. Once her hands are off my cock, I pull her close, her pussy right in my face. “One foot on the bench,” I tell her.
She does what I ask, opening herself up to me. I finger her pussy, my tongue tracing her clit, flicking until I feel like I could blow at any moment. Her cries ring around the locker room. If someone did attempt to come in, it wouldn’t take them long to figure out what was going on in here as she says my name on repeat.
“I need to be inside you.”
She nods, and I help maneuver her foot off the bench, then tell her to place her knees on either side of me.
She gets in position, her chest in my face. I kiss between her breasts, then unhook her bra so she’s bared to me. Her nipples are hard buds. I take one into my mouth, lavishing it with attention before instructing, “Now sink down.” She lowers herself, and I grip the base of my cock to line us up, but it’s up to her to do the rest. She sinks lower and lower, taking me in.
“Oh,” she breathes.
“Take me how you want.”
She lowers slower, as if she’s counting every hard inch of my cock until she’s fully seated. “I did it.” Her eyes spark with accomplishment.
“You did it. And you feel so incredible.”
She lifts slightly, then lowers. Cautious at first, then starting a rhythm. Maneuvering her hips into different angles until she’s sliding on top of me like a pro, her tight walls making sure I feel every part of her.
“You’re so good at this.”
“Cade, I—” She looks down at me, then covers my mouth with hers, taking control of the kiss, her hips, everything. Her movements turn more frantic, her breaths quick pants.
God, I better think of something else before I ruin this for her. Smelly defenseman. My grandma’s laundry basket. Toads.
“I love your dick.”
Shit. Toenail clippings. Vomit.
None of it’s working. She’s grinding on my base like she can eke everything out of me. Her whole body shakes. “Oh my God, this dick. Cade, it’s everything.”
I run my hands up her back, giving her extra support. Sweat sprouts there as her cries become more intense.
It’s getting harder and harder to hold back. I’ve already got that feeling in my balls that I could let loose at any moment. “Fucking hell, Charley. I’m going to come.”
“Now?”
I grind my jaw down. “I’m close.”
Lowering my hands to her hips, I still let her have control, but I can’t hold it anymore. I come hard, pulling her close and slamming inside her with a moan.
She lets out a short cry, then her pussy squeezes me—thankfully—making my orgasm that much more intense.
She drops her head to my shoulder. “That was amazing.”
“I didn’t think I was going to last,” I confess. “You got me feeling like a rookie.”
She works her hands up the nape of my neck. “Why does that make me happy?”
“Because you’re evil.”
“That’s me,” she teases. “Mmm. I don’t want to move.”
My brain gets carried away with that statement. It takes us way out into the future, and I can see Charley and I doing this long-term. Through ups and downs. After college. Way after college.
For a moment, I wrap my arms around her, letting us be who we are right now. If my past has taught me anything, it’s that the present counts the most. And right now, I just want to hold Charley to me.