The Long Game (Seattle Sentinels #1)

Chapter Eight

Nine Years Ago

Lexi

I’m home alone for the weekend.

My parents took Luca to a press event where he'll choose which college he will attend in the fall.

Luca has more offers flooding than almost any other recruit in the nation. So does Tucker.

They are coveted star high school players most colleges in the country are drooling over to get them to commit to their football programs.

There’s a knock at the door and since I don’t expect anyone, I’m on alert.

"Hi, Lex," Tucker says with his sexiest smile.

"Tuck, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be moving to Mississippi?"

"Soon. My dad took next week off to move me into the dorms. Can I come in?"

"Yeah, of course."

I move as he walks in and closes the door behind him.

I swear he’s gotten taller or filled out more…if it’s even possible for him to look more like a Greek god than he already does.

"I was just watching TV." I gesture to the living room. "Want something to drink? I can order pizza."

"Pizza sounds good — I can always eat." He winks.

A thrill cascades down my spine at his flirtation innuendo.

"That’s true." I smile back.

Other than Luca, I don’t know anyone else who can make groceries disappear as fast as Tucker. My poor mother was going on grocery runs on the daily to keep up with their dietary needs. Feeding football stars wasn’t cheap. Good thing my parents are loaded.

With Tucker’s mom dying when he was young, and Chris, Tucker’s dad being a long-haul truck driver, Tucker practically moved in with us after first grade. My mom went from feeding one adult sized garbage disposal to two of them. She never complained. She’s always treated Tucker like a son.

"You’re going to eat that poor college cafeteria out of house and home," I joke.

"They can afford it, trust me. They gotta feed their most valuable player. I have to bulk up a little, anyway. College players are a hell of a lot bigger than the high school players I’m used to. The hits are going to be twice as hard."

I grimace at the thought of Tucker getting hurt. I’ve seen the bruises after a game and injuries he ends up icing for weeks.

"The usual?" I ask.

He smiles and nods. "You know me better than anyone else, Lex."

I grab the phone and dial the pizza place down the street.

"That’s easy, Tuck. I’ve known you longer than anyone else, too," I remind him as I wait for the restaurant to answer. Tucker heads for the kitchen to grab a drink, opening the fridge and popping a top off an IPA my dad keeps stocked.

"Want something?" Tuck asks from the kitchen.

"No, I’m good for now," I say as the restaurant picks up.

Tucker wanders around the bookshelves in the family room, looking over the old photos my parents have framed of our family; of Luca and Tucker at little league games; of me at my volleyball matches; of all of us at the lake house. There are very few pictures not including Tucker.

I make an order large enough to feed five grown adults as I watch Tucker carefully survey the bookshelf until his eye catches on something. He pulls something from the shelf and my heart jumps. My bright pink sparkly dream design binder.

I don’t let many people see my sketches. They’re practically doodles and not nearly professional enough to be taken seriously.

Nervousness over Tucker’s beautiful eyes on my amateur designs has me fidgeting as I finish up giving the pizza place our address for delivery.

Tucker smiles at me across the family room as he plops down on the sofa with the binder still in hand, laying it out on the coffee table in front of him.

"You don’t want to look at those," I redirect. "I drew them just for fun…years ago." I try quickly to excuse my own work.

He takes a long pull of his beer as he flips open the first page. I watch, biting down on my lower lip, distracted by the way his mouth suctions to the top of the bottle. An image of the way he might use those lips on my body send shivers down my neck.

Quickly I’m drawn back to the self-imposed scrutiny of my work out on full display. And not just seen by anyone, but by the perfect Tucker Evans.

To most people, they’re just drawings of buildings, hotels, and design concepts. But to me, it feels more like the diary of my dreams.

"Wow, these are good. I knew you could draw, but shit, Lex — I’m impressed." He sifts through each one of the pages. "Is this the house across the street? Carl McKinny’s house, right?"

He starts looking through the multiple pages I’ve designed for that house. It’s the only subject in my binder that has so many redesigns. That’s because it’s the home I’ve always dreamed of owning one day.

"I love that house," I say as I move next to him and take a seat close enough to peer over at the pages he’s looking at.

"I can see that," he says as he studies the multiple pages.

"It’s stupid. Mr. McKinny will never sell that place. It’s been in his family for over a hundred years. I’ve always dreamed of owning it one day."

"That’s not stupid."

"Okay, but not likely."

"You’re smart and driven. You can have anything you want."

I shift uncomfortably on the couch at the compliment.

"Well in that case. I want that house with a husband, two-and-a-half kids, and a labradoodle named Duane."

"Duane-the-doodle?"

"Yeah, why not? You said I can have anything I want."

"You can." He smiles over at me and then looks back down at the drawings. "You’re going to do some great things with your dad. I wish I had your talent. All I’m good for is this super-hot body." He winks and elbows me hard enough to knock me over on the couch.

We both laugh as Tucker grabs my hand and pulls me back upright.

"Don’t you dare waltz into this house with your cocky swagger and think you can kiss my ass and I’m going to just forgive you just like that." I snap my fingers and smirk back. "You’ve been M.I.A. for quite some time, smooth talker. You’re going to have to earn getting back into my good graces," I warn.

"Well, if kissing your ass is what it’s going to take to get you to forgive me, then I’ll take my punishment now, please." He gives a sexy smirk that’s almost too good to resist.

I roll my eyes in an attempt to seem unaffected.

"I’ve only kept my distance because Luca is pissed as shit at me."

"And he has good reason. You two have dreamed of going to Alabama since middle school. I don’t understand what happened. It isn’t like you to deviate from the plan. You didn’t even give him a heads up."

“I feel like shit about it but Ole’ Miss needs a RB and Alabama already has one. And Ole’ Miss is offering a full ride. Alabama was only going to give me a partial scholarship. I don’t have the money to may the difference and I won’t ask my dad when I have a better opportunity to start for another team. I’ll get more playing time and better visibility," he says. “Luca and I want to play together in the NFL and this is my best chance at getting signed.”

"Ok, I get that. But couldn’t you have said that to Luca?"

"Yes, I probably should have."

He starts to pick at the label on the beer bottle.

I’m surprised to hear that Tucker doesn’t want to ask his dad for the money, but I also understand that being seen by NFL scouts is important. Still, if his tuition was really an issue, I can’t imagine that his dad wouldn’t be able to pitch in.

I’d overheard plenty of phone calls when Chris would call home to talk to my mom and offer her money towards Tucker’s living expenses so I know he has the money. My parents always refused. Tucker has always been a part of our family.

"Tucker, you signed a contract to play for a rival team. You have to explain all of this to Luca so he knows that your goal is to play in the NFL together."

"It’ll all work itself out. We’ve been friends for too long. He’ll get over it,” he says, and then presses the beer to his lips.

"God, you’re an idiot," I shake my head.

"Don’t sugar coat it."

The doorbell rings and I get up to grab the pizza and hot wings. I drop them on the coffee table and head to the kitchen for drinks. "Want another beer?" I ask.

"No, one beer is good for tonight. I’ll take a bottle of water though, please," he says from the living room.

He’s already scarfed down half a pizza by the time I come back. "Wow buddy…slow down. Don’t you want to taste it? Isn’t that the point if you’re likely cheating on your diet right now?"

He brushes my comment off.

"So, how’s it going with your dad’s company?" he asks.

"Good. I have a part time job after school right now. I’m learning so much. They keep giving me more responsibilities. I feel like I belong there, you know?"

He nods as though he understands what it feels like to find something you feel incredibly competent at. And he does. He’s an amazing football player and he works hard at it.

"You're incredibly confident, knowing exactly what you want."

"Oh yeah? How do you know? You don’t see my mess ups at the office."

"True. But I’ve seen you walking around in those tiny bikinis at the lake. Strutting around without a care in the world." He smirks. "You drove so many upperclassmen crazy during those summers at the lake house."

How did we get here? We went from talking about me at the office to me half dressed in a bikini.

"What are you talking about? What upperclassmen?"

I search my memory but I come up short. Well, except that kiss with Tucker, but we both just pretended like it didn’t happen.

"Maybe Luca and I did a better job at keeping their fucking hands off you than we thought. We did threaten to make them disappear into the lake if they ever laid a hand on you. I always figured a few of them would try anyway. Didn’t the captain of the Varsity Soccer team ask you to prom?

I snorted. "Yeah, and then he took it back the next day."

Tucker grins. "I remember Luca threatened to end his career short by hitting him with his truck in the parking lot if he took you to prom."

He takes a swig of his beer.

"That was you!" I argue, throwing a pillow at his face.

He catches it just in time. My eyes flare at him and a little beer spurts from his lips as he tries to contain his laughter.

"How did you know?"

He’s smiling but there is a little rosy coloring to his cheeks.

Is he blushing?

"He told me, obviously."

"That little soft-dick-prick. You should be thanking me. We shared the same locker room. I promise you, it was little. I did you a favor."

He shakes his head as if it was the other kid’s fault that he told me he had to rescind his invitation to take me to prom because he feared for his full ride scholarship to Stanford. Or maybe he said he feared for his life; either way, Tucker was the name he used when explaining where the threat had come from.

Plus, I’d never heard Luca threaten violence, ever. I knew he was capable of it, but he wouldn’t have done it to scare away a measly prom date…

I’d only known Tucker to get in one real fight, if you don’t count fights on the football field for defending a teammate out on the turf. It was in the defense of a kid in elementary school, Desh Martin. Desh was getting picked on for wearing the same clothes back-to-back. Tucker punched the bully in the throat and got expelled for a week.

Luca had come to his defense but there was nothing the principal could do. The school had a strict "no violence" rule. Luckily, Tucker’s dad, Chris, believed Luca and so did my parents.

Luca, Tucker, and Desh became fast friends. Desh was a regular at casa Benson through the years and would often spend a night or two out at the lake house during the summers.

"So, does that mean you’re not going to come to my games?" he asks, almost in a pout.

"Archrivals, Tuck! Why are you not grasping this? If anyone ever asks about you, I’ll have to say, Tucker who? You’re as good as dead to me." I smirk. "I also can’t be in two places at once. How can I be at your game and Luca’s? Hmm, maybe if you played for the same team…"

"Okay, I get it." He raises his hands. "But, still, just one game?"

"Your stadium is nine hours away. That’s an overnighter. Unless my parents go, I have nowhere to stay."

"You could stay with me," he shrugs, swirling his beer bottle.

"In your tiny dorm? Where would I sleep."

He glances up and holds me captive with his eyes. Goosebumps trickle down my arms.

Oh.

Sleeping in the same bed with Tucker. Soothing his muscular body after a brutal game. Why does the thought of that make my nipples pebble?

He looks down at his beer and takes a long pull of the golden liquid.

"I’m sorry that I haven’t been around as much the last few months," he says.

"You mean the last eighteen months?"

"It hasn’t been that long, you’re exaggerating." He shakes his head.

"No, it started way before college admissions. Seems like ever since the dock accident you’ve pulled away. My mom had to beg you to come to the lake house last summer. What I don’t understand is why?" He doesn’t offer anything. He just stares at the blank space above the TV. "You stopped staying here as much and you’ve made excuses for the last couple of family vacations. You saved my life that day. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t fo-"

"Stop," he interrupts, shaking his head like he’s trying to shake the memory. He stands up from the couch.

"…And now you’re avoiding us…or maybe just me?" I stand up to face him. "What did I do?"

"You didn’t do anything." He swallows hard.

"Talk to me Tucker."

"I should go. This was a bad idea." He turns from me and heads for the door.

"Don’t go like this — talk to me. Please, Tucker, let’s fix this," I plead as I walk briskly behind him. His long stride makes me take two steps for every one he does in order to keep up.

He has his hand on the doorknob and I place both of my hands around his large bicep to convince him to stop. His muscles flex slightly beneath my fingertips.

"There’s nothing to fix, Lex. Nothing’s broken." He looks at me with defeat in his eyes. "Promise me something."

I nod, even though I have no idea what I’m agreeing to.

"This summer, when you’re at the lake house — don’t use the fucking stairs, okay? I lost my mom already; I can’t lose you, too."

He stares down at the doorknob, but he hasn’t turned it yet. Maybe I can still convince him not to go.

I slide my hands around his waist to get him to face me. I didn’t realize that he made a connection between my accident and his mother’s death. I never considered that it would trigger him. All this time and he has never mentioned that he was scared he was going to lose me like he lost her. My heart breaks for him.

He wets his lips and drops them to my hairline and kisses where the scar from hitting my head on the dock is still slightly visible anytime my hair is pulled back in a ponytail.

He remembers exactly where it is, and my heart squeezes. A slow exhale leaves my body as my eyes close, attempting to lose myself in the sensation of his warm lips on my skin.

He pulls back slightly and my eyes open, ready to battle him to stay again. His eyes drop to my lips. Before I can ask him to stay for the second time, he presses his lips to mine.

The first kiss is soft and sweet, but he’s holding back. Before he can pull away, I kiss him again – harder. My hands wrap around the back of his neck and I keep him glued to me.

He lets out a growl that registers at the apex between my thighs. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me tight to his body. My mouth opens into the next kiss and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into mine. An electric current jolts through my belly.

He backs me up against the front door and his toned body- built for speed and agility presses firmly into me.

My hands let go of his neck and begin to lift under his shirt, gliding over his stomach and up to his pecks. His chest vibrates as he growls again, deep within his rib cage. It’s like the rumbling of the lion, giving a warning to back away before he pounces, sinking his sharp white teeth into the flesh of my body. But I want it. I want his teeth on me more than I want my next breath.

Just as I reach his chest, he picks me up effortlessly and guides his hips between my shaky thighs. He grinds his perfect erection against my center. The yoga pants I’m wearing leave little to the imagination. I gasp at how incredible he feels.

To be held in his strong arms like I weigh nothing. To be kissed like I’m the only girl he’s ever truly wanted. To feel the ridge of his perfect head through his gym sweats as it glides between my thighs. I want him to sink into me. I want him to take my virginity because I know no other man would do it as good as he would. I want him to do it tonight.

It won’t be a start to anything, I know. It will be goodbye. I can’t think of a better way to say goodbye to Tucker Evans than to give him this one parting gift.

"Oh, God," I say as he changes the angle of the way he’s rubbing me through our clothes.

I’m barely hanging on at this point. A sensation unfamiliar is building low in my stomach. Pulsing desire throbs between my legs. A feeling I’ve never explored completely before.

I’d heard of masturbation but mostly from the male perspective. And since I lack any other type of experience due to my two very own cockblocks at school (Luca and Tucker), I’ve never experienced an orgasm. If this is what’s about to happen, I’ll be mortified if I come like this."Does that feel good, baby?" he asks as his tongue travels down my neck.

"Yes," I moan.

I hear his teeth grind at my response like he’s doing everything in his power to keep his control.

"Should we go upstairs?" I ask in my sex-brained fluster.

My words must hit the "off" switch because his deep, dark honey eyes soften back to their usual color, and I know I’m losing him.

He slowly releases the grip he has on my thighs. My body begins to slide down the length of his. I feel every muscle of his body as mine glides along them. I close my eyes as the journey down his body continues to spark every nerve ending to life. I feel as though I might combust.

When I open my eyes, his eyes are fixated on me. Like he’s been watching every facial expression I make.

I’m back on my feet but he hasn’t stepped away from me yet. His body still pressed into me. His erection still reaching out for me. Maybe there’s still hope. Maybe he won’t leave if I beg.

"I should leave."

"No!" I plead.

"If I stay Lex, I’ll do something I can’t undo."

"Tucker, please don’t go."

But it’s no use. He turns for the doorknob again.

"Good luck with your internship, Lex. Lock the door behind me." He walks out and closes the door behind him so I don’t follow.

Tucker

I stand on the other side of the door waiting to hear it lock behind me. My hopeful imagination has me seeing her open the door and begging me to come back inside.

I should leave the front porch because I know the sound of the deadbolt engaging is going to feel like someone dunked me into an ice bath. And I also know my self-control is wearing thin. Especially now that I’ve had another taste of her and it’s exactly how I remember it – pure fucking heaven.

I didn’t say any of the things I came here to say. It’s not like me to not leave it all on the field.

I want to knock on the door and ask to stay the night – sleep with her in my arms – wake up tomorrow morning with a physical confirmation that Lexi is healthy and breathing, not at the bottom of the lake, the place my nightmares want me to believe.

I had another nightmare last night.

Every time the nightmare comes, it’s the same. I don’t get to Lexi fast enough. She inhales too much water. I pull her onto the dock and lay her flat on her back while I attempt CPR and compressions, but CPR fails. In my dream, Luca isn’t there to help me — no one is.

After I finally give up lifesaving attempts, it’s just her lifeless body and me, silent on the dock. It ends the same way each time; I can’t change the outcome. God knows I’ve tried like hell to change the ending. I pull her back into my arms, holding her tight against my chest as I kiss her head where it connected with the staircase.

I pull us back to the edge of the dock while she’s cradled protectively in my arms. Even though in my dream, she’s already dead, she whispers something to me, and I nod and say something back. I never hear what we say to each other.

After, I sink back into the lake with her in my arms, and neither of us come back up to the surface again.

I always jolt awake, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. The only thing I can do that doesn’t make me fall back to sleep into the same nightmare is go for a run.

I run mile after mile, pushing my body through the pain, until I reach her house. Sometimes in the middle of the night with the streetlights illuminating my path to her, and sometimes in the early morning light.

Standing outside her house, I glance up at the window on the third floor that I know belongs to her room and my heart starts to slow. For once since I woke up from the nightmare, I feel like I might catch my breath as I reassure myself that she's alive. She’s safe in her bed three stories above me. No harm has come to her. The scar along her hairline and my nightmares are the only thing left of that horrifying day.

I’ve never told Luca or Lexi about the nightmares. I’ve never told anyone about them.

I hadn’t had one in several months, but the nightmare reoccurring two nights in a row has me feeling like a man standing on the edge of a building, ready to jump. Jump into the dangerous territory of telling Lexi how I feel. I’m still not sure how I feel. I just know I can’t lose her.

The way she responded to my kiss tonight. The way her body took my advances. The way she gave as much as she took when I ground down on her. She would have said yes, and I need her to say no. I need her to keep me in check. I can’t be trusted with how desperately I want her.

And when those thoughts of having Lexi flood my mind… another memory comes with it. Luca’s words. They come barreling at me like a freight train.

The way this goes down with Lexi is one of two ways. With a diamond ring or a black eye.

Then I’m imagining myself at a jewelry store picking out a ring for Lexi and my stomach is in my throat, complete with sweaty palms. This isn’t an image you’re supposed to have at nineteen years old. It’s a terrifying image. But the image that follows is always worse.

A glimpse of a faceless man, kneeling in front of Lexi, opening a ring box with an engagement ring inside that he bought for her. She accepts the man’s proposal with more happiness and joy than I’ve ever seen on her face.

What I came to say today — what I rehearsed the whole way over was this: "I need you Lexi. I’ve tried to stay away from you. I was hoping distance was all I needed to get clarity that it wasn’t you I’m crazy about, just the thought of you. Just me pushing my feelings onto you because you feel like home. But that’s why I need you. You are my home and I’ve spent the last year and half trying to find a new home. But no matter how hard I try, I still fall asleep with you on my mind and wake wishing you were in my arms."

Instead, I’m taking those words back home with me, unspoken.

I’ll pray that tonight the nightmares don’t come. But if they do, I’ll remember that I left her alive and well in her parents’ house. She’s fine; she’s healthy; she’s not blue from lack of oxygen and lifeless from my failure to keep her safe. Like the failure to stop the darkness from taking my mother.