Chapter 21 #2
“Hey…” He tilts my chin up, then cups one cheek with the same hand.
“I’m not judging you. I’m fucking glad you came to me rather than unravel at the party.
But last night, you weren’t okay. And I wasn’t sure how you’d feel in the morning.
I wasn’t about to be the asshole rubbing my dick on you while you were in a vulnerable position. ”
My chest squeezes at that admission. Now that he puts it like that…
“But at breakfast…”
Kylian watches me for a moment, frowning, as if he’s trying to make sense of the implication. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head.
Eventually, he shakes his head. “I don’t remember saying or doing anything at breakfast.”
“Exactly!” I cry, dropping my head back against the wall.
He’s still hovering close, scanning my face like I’m a puzzle he’s desperate to solve.
“Black and white, Jo. Explain it to me from your perspective.”
I peer up at him, trying not to focus on the way his Adam’s apple dips with each swallow or how my hands sink into his stomach with each inhalation.
“You barely acknowledged me during breakfast. Decker pulled his typical big dick energy act, and you just… you didn’t…”
I trail off, annoyed with myself for my inability to articulate my frustration.
Dropping my shoulders, I glance at the door, then over at my bed.
My former bed, I guess. Shit. What am I going to tell Sam when he gets home and finds that I’ve effectively moved out?
I don’t want to hurt him—I can’t. Maybe he’ll believe me if I say I got a place closer to campus. At least he’ll get his bed back.
“Jo.” Kylian raises his other hand to cup my face, gently turning my head until I’m looking at him again.“Decker is who he is. There’s nothing I can do or say to change that. And maybe I misread you, but you don’t seem like the type who wants to be saved.”
I swallow thickly. Dammit, he’s not wrong.
“Here’s what I was focused on when we sat down for breakfast: First, I was worried about how the guys would react. Because I’m never late. You needed sleep, though,” he says, sincerity coating his every word, “so I made a choice, and I was prepared to deal with the consequences.”
He places a soft kiss on my lips.
“Then I was focused on Misty’s updates. I was also anxious to go over the changes based on week-one stats and rankings with the guys.
We usually spend a few hours debriefing on Sunday mornings, and my mind can’t help but run the numbers on a loop until I share them with the guys.
Once Nicky admitted he was in rough shape, though, my focus was on him.
He needs rest to stay well, but I knew he’d try and power through and play down the pain if we started to talk football. ”
Locke. He really did look worse for wear this morning. I hope he’s resting and taking care of himself.
“I went into that breakfast thinking you and I were in sync. I had already agreed to help you. In my mind, that was settled. I didn’t even think to mention it to anyone until you brought it up to Decker. Which wasn’t necessary, by the way. We don’t need his permission.”
I quirk one brow haughtily. “Don’t we?”
He presses his forehead into mine and shakes his head. “Not for this,” he murmurs, his lips close enough to tease me into pushing up on tiptoes.
“This…”
A thrill races up my spine, leaving goose bumps in its wake. I desperately want him to kiss me again now that I’m more confident that I’m not just a pawn in some game.
Running my hands up his chest, I relish the heat of his skin pulled taut over the lean muscles under the cotton of his shirt. Craning back to meet his gaze, I link my arms around his neck.
“What is this?” I whisper.
Kylian squeezes my side, then rests both hands on my low back, pulling me closer.
“This is us. Whatever you want us to be.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to answer before he’s taking me with another all-consuming kiss. I let out a ridiculously girlish sound—something between a sigh in a whimper—as he dominates the moment and takes charge.
His tongue teases against my lips, and I willingly open to him. The first brush into my mouth is tentative, testing. My knees wobble at the second dip inside, making me grateful to be leaning against a wall.
Moaning, I meet his tongue stroke for stroke, loving the way he takes control, then backs off and lets me respond.
His kiss is both frantic and unhurried. Passionate yet methodical. It’s intense and unquestionable: black and white, just like him. I moan again, then startle on the next breath when a car horn blasts in the distance.
“Fuck. We gotta go.”
And just like that, the fire is out, and it’s back to business.
Dumbfounded, I stand there for a moment, watching as a switch inside Kylian flips, and he resumes filling the plastic tote on the bed. Like we weren’t just getting hot and heavy against the wall.
I believe what he said, though. He’s given me no reason not to trust him, and his explanation makes sense.
He’s a bundle of contradictions in a lot of ways. Hot and cold. Black and white. Clearly brilliant, if not a little socially inept.
So I’ll take him at his word and put my trust in him. It’s not like I have much of a choice anyway.
Resigned, I spin on my heel and take off toward the bathroom as the car horn blasts again, this time for longer.
“I’ll get this one loaded and tell him we need five more minutes,” Kylian says as he follows me out of the bedroom but turns left and heads toward the back door.
“And Jo?”
I pause outside the bathroom door and pivot to face him in the hall.
“Your ass looks so damn hot in my shorts.”
He winks, then he’s gone.
I’m as flattered as I am blindsided.