Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
RAINE
L AU won. And I survived being in the same room with my ex without puking my guts out. It should feel like I win on all counts, but I haven’t been able to quiet the little voice inside my head ever since I sat down in my seat and put myself in Everett’s shoes.
Ripping the paper towel from the dispenser in the women’s bathroom, I dry my hands, then toss it in the trash. Everett’s parents are waiting by the visitor’s locker rooms, but I snuck away to use the restroom.
As I push the door open, I nearly run into a yellow and brown jersey but stop short and crane my neck up. “Excuse me.”
“Hey, traitor,” the stranger grunts.
My brows pull as I look up at him again. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
“Rick, one of Drake’s friends,” he clarifies.
I squint, trying to see if I recognize the guy, but honestly, I think the term friend is probably a stretch. If I had to guess, he’s a big Grizzlies fan and worships all the players like the rest of Cedar Springs, meaning he’s likely not a fan of me .
Perfect.
“Nice to meet you, Rick,” I mumble. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I start to step around him, but he mirrors my movements, blocking my escape.
“What the fuck are you doing here wearing the enemy’s colors?”
I look down at the Hawks jersey with Everett’s number printed on the front. It’s peeking out from underneath my unzipped North Face jacket, and I frown. “W-what?”
Before I even register what’s happening, the asshole dumps soda over my head. Ice skitters around my feet, and I gasp, jumping back with my jaw slack as I realize I’m now drenched in sticky brown liquid.
“Are you kidding me?” I screech.
“That’s for my boy.” Rick’s gaze slides down my body, and he grins, taking in his handiwork. “Now, get the hell out of our arena.”
I’m so shocked it takes me a second to pick my jaw up from the floor as I stare up at the Grizzlies fan. Like seriously, who does this? How does this even happen?
Rick bends closer, bringing us nose to nose. “Or you can wait until Drake comes out of the locker room. Bet he’d love to see you again and put you in your place. Bitch .”
“Raine!” a voice calls.
My heart jumps to my throat, and I turn toward the culprit when a freshly showered Everett appears. His hair is still wet and pushed away from his face like he combed his fingers through it as he balances his massive hockey bag over his shoulder. With long strides, he moves toward me, his parents flanking his sides. It only makes me feel like more of an idiot. An outsider. A weak damsel in distress. My cheeks flame, and I stare at the ground, desperate to disappear.
Rick scoffs but steps back, giving me more space, only for it to be replaced with Everett’s back as he moves between me and Drake’s so-called friend .
“There a problem?” Everett growls. I shouldn’t be surprised he’s coming to my defense. It’s what he does for everyone, apparently. The reminder kind of makes me want to cry.
Lifting his hands into the air, Rick takes another big step backward. “No problem.”
Everett glances over his shoulder at me, taking in my wet, sticky clothes and hair, and turns back to Drake’s buddy. “Did you pour soda over my girlfriend’s head?”
“Everett,” Macklin warns beside him.
Everett’s fists squeeze at his sides, and I wait for the spiral. The chaos. The reared back arm, followed by the grunt of pain and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Instead, Everett steps back, creating more distance between him and the stranger. Desperation and shame nearly split me in two as I grab the back of his shirt and keep my feet planted where they are, grateful for Everett’s heat and maturity because I’m pretty sure if I was dating anyone else, there would be a full-on brawl, and thanks to today’s location, I’m not sure it would end in our favor.
“Best get going, Hawk ,” the fan grits out. He says the word like it’s a curse.
“You’re right. We gotta celebrate tonight’s win. Good game, though.” I can hear Everett’s amusement in his voice, and even though none of this is very funny, I can’t deny how the sound tugs at my lower belly.
The fan flips Everett off but turns around and disappears through the exit, leaving me with Everett and his family. In an instant, Everett faces me again and shrugs his jacket off, his eyes brimming with concern. “Here.”
“I’m fine,” I murmur .
“You’re not.”
“I don’t want to ruin it.”
“You won’t.” He offers the coat to me again. “Take it.”
“Ev,” I beg. The dry jacket hangs between us, and I fold my arms. “Can we please…?” My words trail off, and I press my lips together, unsure what to say. I’m embarrassed. Cold. Sticky. I just want to go home.
“Hey.” Everett’s mom interrupts our little staredown. “Your dad and I should probably get going, anyway. I know we talked about grabbing dinner, but how about a rain check?” She steps closer to her son, kisses his cheek, and gives me a smile. “It was really nice to meet you, Raine.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I whisper.
Macklin pulls his son into a quick hug and slaps his hand against his back, mirroring his wife and giving me the same reassuring smile she did. “Nice to meet you, Raine. We’ll see you around, yeah?”
I nod. “Of course.”
“See you, son,” he adds to Ev.
As I watch them go, I tug my wet jacket tighter around me, trying to curl in on myself, when a couple of puck bunnies move toward me. My spine straightens as they giggle. One of them calls me a slut under her breath as they slip past me and head into the bathroom. It only makes me feel more awkward and uncomfortable.
I know Everett hears it, too, because his glare follows them until the heavy bathroom door cuts off his view. He turns to me, his gaze softening. “Let’s go, yeah?”
I nod and let him lead me to his car. Apparently, his coach gave him permission to drive home with me instead of riding with the team, and I don’t even give him crap for calling in a favor. I’ve been too lost in my own head.
It’s cold out. Dark, too. The sun set at least an hour ago, and flecks of snow fall from the sky. I push my wet, sticky hair away from my face, and Everett opens the passenger door, guiding me into his car.
After rounding the front of it, he turns the ignition on, sets the heat to full blast, and forces my cold hands to the vents. “You okay?”
I shake my head and avoid his gaze, staring out at the falling snow instead. “I’ve been better.”
“What happened?”
“Apparently, he knew me, or at least knew of me,” I clarify. “Called me a traitor for wearing a Hawks jersey and said I didn’t belong at the Grizzlies’ arena.” I scoot a little closer to the door and rest my head against the cold passenger window. “To be fair, he isn’t entirely off-base.”
“I should’ve kicked his ass,” Ev replies.
“Pretty sure you’ve already kicked enough asses because of me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I bite my lip but stay quiet, shaking my head again. “Nothing, I’m just…cold.”
I can feel his stare on the side of my face, but I don’t look at him to confirm my suspicion. I’m too caught up in everything that happened tonight and the aftermath I need to wade through.
“You seem…off,” he decides. When I don’t reply, he puts his car in drive and turns onto the main road. “You sure everything’s okay?”
Am I sure everything’s okay? I want it to be. I hope it is. But is it selfish? Am I the problem?
“How was sitting next to my parents?” he prods, and I know he’s trying to change the subject, but it only fuels my muddied thoughts. “Were they okay?”
“Your parents are amazing.” I peek at him and force a sad smile. “I really like them.”
“They really like you, too. ”
I don’t know if it’s true or if Everett’s only being nice, but I hope it is.
“They’re good people,” I reply.
With a soft smile of his own, he nods. “Yeah, they really are.”
“It’s fitting,” I add. “That your dad is a paramedic, what with your mom’s and your sister’s epilepsy.”
“Yeah.” He draws in a breath. “I don’t know what they’d do without him.”
“And you.”
He frowns. “What about me?”
“You're their other hero. Their other protector.”
Squeezing the back of his neck, he rests his elbow against the driver’s side window and mutters, “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” I argue. “And then with Dylan’s head injury?—”
“How do you know about it?”
He doesn’t sound mad but wary? Yeah. I’d say it’s fitting. To be fair, I don’t blame him. The way I just…threw out a huge event in his life, which likely altered his own brain chemistry the same way it did Dylan’s.
“Finley told me a little while ago,” I explain. “Not in a gossipy way or anything. It kind of just…came up. And then, your mom mentioned how you’re always looking out for her, too, and…I don’t know. I guess everything clicked into place.”
“Hmm.” He gives me the side-eye as the trees whir past us. “Seems you were pretty chatty during the game.”
“Guess you could say so.”
“Anything you want to talk about with me?” he prods.
I bite the inside of my cheek, considering his question. The opening he’s gifted me. I could drop it. I could sweep it under the rug and pretend like everything’s fine—and it is— or I could open the wound. I could tell him what’s bothering me, hoping and praying it doesn’t blow up in my face.
The old me would’ve bottled it up. Would’ve shoved it aside. Part of me still wants to. The other part? It’s screaming at me to let him in. To be open and vulnerable even when it’s scary. Even when it feels irrational. Not the being vulnerable part, but the voicing my concerns out loud part. If you can even call my reservations a concern.
“Talk to me, Stormie,” he prods.
I force out, “Are you only interested in me because you want to save me?”
His eyes bulge like I’ve told him the earth is flat. “What?”
“Let me rephrase.” I lick my lips. “Have you always felt the need to be everyone’s hero?”
Flicking his blinker on, he merges onto the freeway, but I can tell he’s considering my question by the tiny flex of his jaw and the way his knuckles squeeze against the steering wheel. They're bruised and red and raw, thanks to his fight with Drake. I still can’t believe he was thrown out of the game because of it.
“Where is this coming from?” Ev finally asks.
I tear my attention from his battered hand and peer up at him again. “Your mom mentioned how well you take care of her and Finley and Dylan and…everyone else in your life,” I offer weakly.
“Is there a problem with wanting to protect the people I care about?”
“No, it’s just…it has to be exhausting, doesn’t it?” I whisper.
He pulls off at the next exit, and I swear my stomach flips inside out as he moves onto the side of the road and faces me fully.
“What are you getting at, Raine? ”
Raine. Not Storm or Stormie.
Hello again, walls.
“I…I want you to know I don’t need your protection. I mean, I do,” I rush out, “ but…I don’t know. I guess, what I’m saying is…” I look down at my hands and fidget with my nails, picking at the cuticles. Clicking my thumbs over each other. It feels strange. Bringing this up. Giving him an out, almost. I’d never want him to take it, but the idea of him feeling backed into a corner or something only to wind up dating me because he doesn’t know how to not be backed into a corner feels…wrong.
“Tell me,” he pushes.
Staring at my hands, I whisper, “I don’t want you to be with me because you feel obligated to be. I don’t want you to think I’m…like I’m some scared little girl who has a boogeyman chasing after her, and the only way to keep him away is if we’re together or something. And I know it’s stupid. I know I literally hired you to keep the boogeyman away, but…I don’t know, ever since we slept together…” I blink the burn behind my eyes away and look up at him. “I need to make it clear that I don’t want to be an obligation.” My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I search for the right words, knowing I’ll never find them. “This is your official notice that you’re…relieved from duty, or…whatever.”
“Raine—”
“I’m serious,” I push. “If this is as real for you as it is for me, then I need to know you see me as more than a victim.”
“Raine.”
“Ev—”
“Raine,” he snaps. It’s sharper this time, and my mouth snaps shut when he grabs my chin and forces me to hold his gaze. “You’re not a victim. You were never a victim.”
“You said I was a victim,” I remind him. “When we first met. ”
He lets my chin go and hangs his head. “I was wrong. So fucking wrong, Raine.”
I can taste his regret. His remorse. It’s sharp and pungent and makes me want to cry. Or maybe it’s my own guilt I taste. My own shame for being in this situation in the first place. For putting him in this situation when it’s the last thing he ever deserved.
“Were you?” I whisper. “Were you wrong?”
He looks up at me again. “Do you really not see how strong you are? Raine, you dated an asshole, decided to leave, and he hit you. You then found someone willing to help, approached them, and got out.”
“I should’ve seen the signs, though,” I argue.
“Yeah, and I should’ve seen how I was overstepping my bounds with Dylan…for years ,” he emphasizes. “And if Dylan won’t hold it against me, then you’re not allowed to hold your own shit against yourself, either.”
“Pretty sure it’s different,” I point out.
“Pretty sure it isn’t. But you’re right about one thing. I do have a hero complex. And I do feel the need to protect my mom and my sister and you.”
“Ev,” I breathe out.
“But it isn’t because you’re a victim. It’s because I care about you, and no matter how much I try, I know it isn’t something I can just…shut off, so I hope you can cut me some slack every once in a while. All right? Because I sure as shit am not letting you go. Do you hear me?”
I scowl at him before my expression softens, and I nod. “I hear you.”
“Good.”
“Can I ask you something else?” I push.
He sighs. “Depends. Is it gonna piss me off?”
“Maybe.” My mouth curves up for the smallest of seconds but I quickly sober. “Your mom asked if I take care of you, too, and…I don’t know. I guess it got me thinking… Do I?” My brows wrinkle as I consider her question for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. “You’re so…strong. And I don’t mean only physically.” My mouth lifts again, and I meet his gaze. “I mean in every way, Ev. You’re like this…this giant protector. And I dunno, I…I started thinking about how or if it’s even possible for me to take care of you the same way you take care of me, you know?” I suck my bottom lip between my teeth and bite down hard, analyzing every single moment we’ve shared together since we first met. “Relationships are a two-way street, and I feel like you’re always swooping in to take care of me. Even today, you swooped in and threatened to beat the shit out of a random guy. Like who does that?” I shake my head and raise my hand to stop him from interrupting me. “You’re always the first to make sure I'm safe and well-fed and happy and warm and…I want to deserve you.”
“Fucking hell, Storm,” he rasps. Reaching out, he grabs the side of my face and brings me closer, pressing his forehead against mine. “You have no idea how incredible you are. How you make me stronger every single moment of every single day. You’re patient and kind and talented and fucking beautiful. You see past my asshole behavior and make me smile, Storm. You make me smile more than anyone else in the world. You give me purpose. Support. Hell, you came to a game I know you wanted nothing to do with. You…” Those icy blue eyes bounce around my face. “You’re my girl, Storm. Mine .”
I continue leaning over the center console and lift my chin, silently begging for a kiss. He meets me halfway without hesitation. And it’s silly. Because we didn’t even have a fight, but this still feels like a makeup kiss. Like I could’ve lost him. Like I almost let him go under the guise of protecting him from himself. From his own obligations. From the way he looks at everything and everyone around him. Like it’s his job to step up. To be enough. To become the rock. Is it so wrong for me to want to do the same for him?
I kiss him gently, pinning his bottom lip between mine, and suck on the plump flesh softly. It pulls a groan from Everett’s chest and spurs me on. Reaching up, I let his stubbled jaw tickle my fingertips. Then, I grab his shoulder and use it for leverage while I climb over the center console and deepen the kiss.
“What are you doing?” he rasps against my lips.
“Proving I’m yours.” My mouth is on his again, and his hands find my ass, cupping my upper thighs and turning me on even more.
It’s dark. We’re in the middle of nowhere. And I can’t help but want to take this to the next level. To see if I can convince him to let go of his control a little more. Not gonna lie, though. It's squishy. Like, super squishy. Rolling my hips against him, I suck on his tongue and tug at the short hair at the nape of his neck. The denim of my jeans rubs against my clit. It’s like a spark on a puddle of gasoline, and Everett’s strong hands tighten, pushing me against the edge of his cock.
“Fuck, Storm,” he groans.
“Get in the back with me.”
He smirks. “Is that a request?”
“Either that or you get a blow job while I get off on my fingers?—”
His groan cuts me off, and he leans his head against the headrest. “Fuck. Storm.”
“You like the imagery?” I nip at his bottom lip, ignoring the way my own pulse ratchets at the thought of it.
Opening his eyes again, he kisses me. Hard. Swallowing my moan as he thrusts his tongue in and out of my mouth like it’s his thick cock nestled between my legs.
Dammit. I could seriously get off like this, and we’re both still fully clothed. It’s torture. Freaking torture. But I can’t make myself stop. I want him. Mind. Body. Soul. I want every piece he’s willing to give, well aware of how many of mine he’s already collected over the past few weeks. Honestly, it almost isn’t fair. How much of me he owns. And even though I should be terrified, the warning bells are growing softer and softer with every kiss. Every touch. Every smile. Every confirmation I’m safe with him. He would never hurt me. Not intentionally.
With a loud thwack, his palm connects with my butt, and I yelp.
“Back,” he orders. “Now.”
Laughing at the irony of my thoughts and the burn of my ass, I scramble off his lap and climb into the backseat.
“Pants off,” he adds, opening the driver’s side door. Shimmying the thick denim down my thighs and off my feet, I scoot to the opposite side as he opens the door and climbs inside. His hands are already on his jeans, but he hesitates, his blue eyes practically glowing in the dark cab of his car.
Pressing my thighs together, I whisper, “What?”
“You look incredible like this.”
“Naked and horny?” I offer dryly.
“Naked and mine .” The word is nothing but a growl as he reaches for my ankle, dragging me closer until I’m sprawled out on the seats. Setting my phone on the center console, he skates his calloused palms along my calf, knee, then inner thigh as I wait with bated breath. “Don’t. Move.”
“Someone’s bossy,” I note.
“Hungry,” he clarifies. Cupping my ass, he lifts me up. My heel digs into the center console while my opposite one digs into a seat belt clip as I struggle to keep my balance. And then, his mouth is on me, and my jaw drops.
This. This selflessness. I’ll never get used to it. Never take it for granted. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. For him to worship me. Crave me. Want to taste me. It’s the most surreal feeling, and I bask in it. As if I’m a freaking ice cream cone, he licks my slit, dragging his tongue along my center and dipping inside like I’m the most delicious dessert he’s ever tasted.
“Oh my fucking—” my words catch in my throat as he holds me to him and sucks on my clit, gently nipping at the sensitive bud before thrusting his tongue into me all over again. My eyes roll back in my head, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Pressure builds, and my body aches from its position, but I can’t help it. I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
I could come like this. I could actually come like this. With my body feeling like a freaking pretzel. The cold air caressing my bare thighs. And Everett’s wicked mouth kissing my center and clit like it was made for me. Like he was made for me. In a way, maybe he was—is—made for me. Hooking his arm around my lower back, he spreads my folds with his opposite hand and massages tiny circles against my inner walls as his mouth finds my clit again. Stars erupt behind my eyelids, and I lose it. My body spasms against his tongue and fingers. I moan Everett’s name, craving him now more than ever. Hell, I’m pretty sure I’m still orgasming as I smack his hand and force him to lower me from his mouth. I climb into his lap, pull his dripping cock out, and line him up with my entrance.
Then down I go, my slick heat swallowing every inch of him until I’m fully seated. He leans back, spreads his thighs beneath my ass, and grabs my waist, silently encouraging me to take the lead. And I like him like this, too. With his gaze glued to where our bodies connect. A slight sheen of sweat along his hairline, and his full lips parted. As I slowly lift up a few inches, his tongue darts out, and he licks his bottom lip .
“Fuck, I can still taste you.” His eyes snap to mine. “You gonna fuck me, Storm?”
I nod and shift my hips, forcing him a little deeper. I lift up and do it all over again. He’s so deep I have no doubt I’ll feel it tomorrow, but the idea only spurs me on. I like the reminder I’m left with every time we’re together. The slight ache. The smile I catch myself wearing as I replay it. Our moments together. It’s a high. One I’ve never felt with anyone else. And I can’t help but crave it more. Crave him more.
“You have no idea how pretty you look like this,” he rasps. “Taking me like this.”
I grab onto his shoulder and quicken my pace. My thighs burn as I fuck him harder and harder, letting his hands guide me until he slips his thumb between my legs and presses it against my clit. My body trembles from the pressure, and I swear I’m about to come again as I rest my head against his shoulder and move my hips against him over and over again.
“Gonna come, Storm,” he warns.
His cock jerks inside of me, and I bite his shoulder, falling apart with him until I swear I’ll never be able to walk again. But it’s a good burn. A deep burn. A satisfying burn. One I never want to forget or lose. Because it’s Everett. And I’m officially a sucker for all things Everett Taylor.
Dragging my hair to one side, he cups my face and lifts my head from where it’s tucked against the crook of his neck. Then he kisses me. It’s soft. Slow. Gentle. And I swear I can feel it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
When I finally pull away, he rubs his thumb along my cheek, and I smile, burrowing closer to him. His fingertips gently run along my spine like he isn't in a hurry for me to climb off, either, and I kind of love it. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The rhythmic pass of his fingertips. It’s quiet. So freaking quiet. I can feel him softening inside of me. But I don’t want to move. I don’t want to leave the back of this car. I don’t want to let this moment end. I don’t want this to end. Me. Everett. Pretty sure I could stay here forever, and I’d die happy.
Everett Taylor, I think I might love you.
And even though I’m terrified of falling, I can’t make myself stop.