26. Connor
CONNOR
Iflip on the wall sconces as we walk in, and a cascade of color floods the space, the beams of light reflecting the artwork onto the cream tile floor.
Rawley’s place is the most eclectic of my siblings’ homes. It started as a new construction, a big gray box, but over the years, he’s purchased a diverse selection of local art. Often on a whim.
“It’s chaotic, like my brain,” he sometimes jokes. Either way, it suits him a lot better than a boring neutral space.
Although his furniture is still rather staid. Olive green twill upholstery covers the two couches and armchairs. They’re well-made and comfortable, at least.
“Why don’t we hang in the living room?” I don’t want to set the wrong vibe by guiding her straight to my bedroom, despite everything that just happened. Am I struggling after watching her in the car? 100 percent. But I steel myself to ease into things here at the condo.
“This view is incredible.” She walks out to the sliding doors leading to the balcony. “I don’t think of Orlando as having these kinds of high-rise buildings.”
“Does San Diego?” I go into the kitchen and grab two bottles of water as she heads to the couch.
“My mom always had a house, but yeah.” I hand her the water and sit down next to her. “She wanted to be near family. Well, she needed to be near them when I was little, so she could finish school.”
“Are you still close to the rest of your family there?”
She adjusts a small pillow behind her, scooching into the seat cushion a little more. A bright spot on this blah couch, looking at ease—and clear-eyed. Confirmation the drinks from earlier wore off.
“Yes, sort of. There’s no one my age. My mom’s sister Celia has twins, Wyatt and Sawyer, but they’re in elementary school.”
“They sound like cowboys with those names, not going to lie.”
She grins, looking outside the window. “My mom hasn’t shared the full story with me ever, but apparently Aunt Celia had a thing for a rancher’s son in her early twenties.”
I bark out a laugh. “Nice.”
“Not me though.” She swings her face back to me, a twinkle in her eyes. “I always seem to date guys who are into sports.”
“Thank fuck for that.” I slide fractionally closer to her. “You…you, uh, feeling good after all that we tried today?” That came out awkwardly…I meant the alcohol, but it sounded like something else too.
She doesn’t miss a beat, though. “I’m perfect. It was…fun. What about you?” Her eyes dip down to the zipper on my pants before rising back to my face.
“My buzz has worn off.” I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose, realizing she’s waiting for an answer on the other front. “And I’ll be alright.”
She shakes her head. “That’s twice now that I’ve…come and you haven’t. The Fourth and today.”
I smirk. “It’s fine. Priorities.” She giggles, and it’s so cute I want to get closer to her.
“Come here,” I say, tapping my legs.
She looks where I’m pointing. “Okay.”
A beat later, she’s climbing on my lap, straddling me. Her dress fans out across my pants as she rests on my thighs.
I immediately wrap my hands around her ass and give her a peck on the lips. The warmth of her core reminds me—she has no panties on.
My mind flashes to all I’d love to do with her. But what exactly does she want? Shit, I don’t want to make any assumptions, especially with her explicitly saying she’s not looking for a one-night thing.
We need to have a conversation.
I brush my right hand over her bare arm. “I…I’m not expecting…us to have sex tonight. Or anything in particular.”
Gratitude sweeps her face. “I’d rather…wait for some things.”
Not surprising. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Her response is small kisses on my neck, one, two, three. The warm wetness of her lips against that sensitive skin, her heat pressing against my pants—my control starts to slip.
Then she sucks harder on a tender part of my neck.
“Oh shit…” I gasp as my dick goes rigid.
“There’s one thing I would like to do.” She sits up, and puts her hand on my bulge. “Okay to take these off?”
My cock is happy at the thought, but I don’t want her to feel obligated. “You don’t have to.”
She locks our eyes, and hers are heated. “I want to.”
But she doesn’t move—why? I study her expression. It’s inquisitive, expectant, watchful. She’s searching for permission.
“Take them off then.”
A pleased look crosses her face, before her hand goes to the zipper. I lay my arms along the top of the couch, in opposite directions, while she glides it down. With a tug, my pants are on the floor.
Her eyes flick up to mine. “Can I…boxer briefs too?”
I keep my arms pinned against the top of the couch, so she controls the actions. “Yeah, they can go too.”
My dick springs free once she tugs the boxers off. She’s fixated on it, even as it’s making a mess, leaking as it bobs against my stomach.
While she’s distracted by the seven inches between my legs, I scan over her body. She’s half crouched, like she’s uncertain how to proceed.
I can at least help there. “Eden.” I spread my legs wider to make room. “Get on your knees, and then…suck me.” Shit, was that too direct?
Nope, because she drops down to the floor almost immediately. Jesus. She wraps her hand around me and sinks her mouth around my dick.
I’m barely hanging on, almost immediately. The fact that Eden, my Eden, after all the waiting, is taking me into her mouth? That it’s real and not a fantasy? Not to mention, the stroke of her tongue along my slit, the pulsing sucks on my length, the tight, warm hold of her hand.
I last about four minutes—it’s all too fucking good.
“Eden…ahhh. No need to swallow.” She hums, noncommittedly, though she doesn’t protest when I pull myself out of her mouth and shoot all over my stomach.
The only reason I don’t feel bad about coming so fast?
Because after wiping myself off in the bathroom, I bury my face in her pussy, and she only makes it five minutes before her climax echoes across the apartment.
When she’s done shaking from her orgasm, she looks like she’s about to be a puddle on the couch. The skirt of her dress bunched at her waist.
“C’mon.” I say softly. “I’m taking you to sleep.”
“I think I’m ready.”
I pick her up, the fabric of her dress draping over her legs, and carry her to my bed.
“Now I know how to fall asleep,” she says faintly as I step us through the condo. “Two orgasms from you and I’m out.”
A laugh rumbles through my chest. “I live to serve.”
It’s dark, and she’s checked out, so I don’t bother doing a “show and tell” of my room. Instead, I set her down on top of my quilt and leave the lights off.
“Here’s a T-shirt if you want to change,” I offer after pulling one with a tiger, my university logo, out of my dresser.
“Can you help untie me?” she says, yawning. I walk over and undo the sundress’s bow at the back of her neck. For good measure, I unzip the side too.
“All set.” I kiss the top of her head. “I’ll grab us some water, and there’s a spare toothbrush in the top drawer of my bathroom.”
“Thank you,” she mumbles.
But by the time I come back, she’s out like a light, wearing only my tee.
I wake up to a forehead kiss. It’s been a while since something like that happened…
My eyes open, and memories of last night rush back as I see Eden’s face and soft smile peering at me.
“I’m so sorry to wake you up. We don’t need to go this second, but do you mind driving me back to Tolliver soon? I have a killer amount of homework.”
I scan down her body, and I’m bummed to see yellow instead of an orange tiger. She’s already changed back into her dress.
Guess lounging in bed with her is not on the menu. Another time, hopefully.
“Yeah, no problem.” My voice is scratchy. “Let me get cleaned up.”
Chucking the cover off me, I stand and make my way to the bathroom, throwing on a pair of shorts. When I walk out into the living area, she’s sipping something from one of Rawley’s tumblers.
“I found cold brew in the fridge. Do you want a cup?”
“No, I’m more of an energy drink kind of guy.”
“I’ll stock up then,” she says quietly to herself. Though I’m glad to overhear it, because this morning’s scramble is sending a different message.
I crack open a Red Bull. “What’s on your agenda for today?”
Her face twists. “I—there’s something I didn’t mention last night. I’ve been trying to ignore it. But when I woke up this morning, it hit me again.”
This doesn’t sound good. “What is it?”
“You know how I’ve been drowning while trying to keep up with everything? I think I’m ready to press pause on the medical school front.”
“Pause?” Not sure what that means.
“Withdraw my applications, and then reapply in a few years when my soccer days are done.”
Oh, that makes a lot of sense. “What part’s stressing you out?”
“My parents—especially Mom—I hate feeling like I’m disappointing them.”
I’m confused. She’s never described her parents that way? Unlike my mom…
“I remember you saying they let you make your own decisions. But not this one?”
She bites her lip. ”No, you’re right. They do. I just…” She stares down at her cup for a few seconds after her unfinished sentence. “I hate making decisions. Maybe…I’m projecting that.”
“What do you hate about them?” It’s hard for me to understand, since she doesn’t lack confidence overall.
“They just stress me out. Like, what if I make the wrong one? That’s where my head meanders. Then I procrastinate.”
Ah, I’m pretty sure this is connected to her Type-B comment yesterday.
“Well, the only person you need to satisfy on this subject is you, right? It’s your future. What do you want?”
My question is rhetorical, but she answers literally.
“I want to keep playing, go pro, for sure.”
“There you go. You know that saying, ‘You can do anything, but you can’t do everything.’ You’re a living example right now.”
She half-heartedly chuckles. “True.”
Buzz. Fuck, my phone.
“Sorry, let me see who it is.”
I look at the name on the caller ID. It’s Del?
“It’s your dad?” I look at Eden, questioning. He couldn’t know we’re together, right?
She looks stunned, and then when the phone buzzes again, I answer it.
“Hi, Del.”
“Hi, Connor. You got a second?” Not really, but I can’t exactly tell him why.
“What’s going on?”
“Cutting to the chase…Scotty got into a car accident, and he’s out for the season.”
“Oh shit. Is he going to be okay?” The backup kicker doesn’t travel with the team, so it must have happened here in Orlando.
“Yes, by next season. In the meantime, we have a spot for a placekicker on the practice squad, to back up Jeremy.”
“Okay.” My eyes peer back at Eden, and I mouth, “Not about us.”
“Most of the practice squad doesn’t have normal jobs, as you probably know. It’s too much to handle with the daily obligations at the facility. So I’m not sure what it would mean for your internship, if it comes together.”
Wait. If what comes together?
“What do you mean?”
“Sorry, I’m rushing this. I’d…we’d like you to come try out for the practice squad, for a potential spot as our backup placekicker.”
Holy fuck.
“What?” I gasp out. Eden stills, watching me intently again.
“I know it’s unexpected. You’d almost certainly never play in a real game. But it would be a step closer to being an NFL kicker.”
My brain starts to catch up. I’d long ago looked up what a practice player is paid, since it was a distinct possibility I’d be the backup somewhere, if I made it that far.
It’s five figures a week. Life-changing money that, at the very least, would let me have room to explore other options long term. In contrast to the zero I’m making in the internship, which I’m not even enjoying.
Easy fucking choice.
“I’m in, Del. Let me know when I need to be there for tryouts.”
Eden’s head jerks up to me at the last word. Her eyes go big, and I nod to confirm she heard right.
Once I’m off the phone with him, I rapidly update her on the conversation, and a smile starts to appear on her face.
“This is…wild! And you want to do it?”
“Definitely.”
“And your internship, you’d still keep it too?”
“No. If I make the squad, I’d need to resign or at least take a leave of absence.”
A light comes into her eyes. “So we wouldn’t need to be secret—”
I shake my head. “I think we would.” The light dims, and I hurry to explain, “Not that I want that, Eden. Really. But if your dad is the one choosing me, maybe ultimately coaching me—I think we’d need to keep our situation quiet a little longer.
I…I don’t want to put any of us in a position where it looks like a conflict of interest, or whatever. ”
“Yeah…” She looks thoughtful. “Yeah, you’re right. And if the media got wind of it, they could make it into something.”
I hadn’t even thought of that yet. “Yes.”
“Okay, so we stay a secret for now. It’s what we planned anyway.”
“Assuming I even make the team.”
She beams at me. “You will. I know it.”