8. Levi
CHAPTER 8
LEVI
Me: Did you check out of the hotel?
Quinn: Yes.
Me: Did you get your car?
Quinn: Yup. I drove to work today, and I already told you I had all my things.
Me: Don’t get used to that.
Quinn: What?
Me: If we work together, you’re driving in with me.
Me: Also, you brought two suitcases, and that can’t be all you need.
Quinn: I have my own car so I can drive myself. Besides, I have all the clothes I need.
Me: No, you won’t be. Because now you also have a boyfriend.
Quinn: Ugh. I have a Levi and that’s worse.
Me: You did this to yourself, Angel. I’ll see you at HOME.
Quinn:
* * *
Having to go to practice today was brutal, but only because I knew Quinn was supposedly going to grab all her things and bring them to my place after I lost my shit on her about living in a hotel. I guess I just want to see for myself that she followed my directions. I made sure to put a key under the mat and told her to let herself in, plus it helps that the few times we’ve hooked up while she’s been in Nashville, we’ve ended up back here so she knows my house pretty damn well.
I’m glad she didn’t put up too much of a fight because I was pissed when I found out where she was staying. I mean, who the fuck moves back to their hometown and lives in a hotel? She has family here. I know her parents still have a house here because I’m almost positive it’s the one Ally used to rent from them, so I’m sure she’s there again now. I get why Quinn wouldn’t want to stay there with her. But if her choice was either a hotel or staying with Ally, I would’ve preferred her to choose the latter. At least that way, I wouldn’t have to worry about her.
Hotels are safe, sure, but living on her own, especially when no one knows she’s there…it’s too much. It stresses me out. When I went to the hotel last night, I thought that was just where she decided to meet up to grab a drink and chat. I didn’t realize she had just walked downstairs.
The second I saw her about to talk to another man, I lost my shit and acted like a caveman, carrying her somewhere more private, and then she told me she had a room upstairs. Her tiny fists were punching into my ass, but that stopped the second I tickled her waist.
She forgets—I know where she’s ticklish.
Walking up the stairs to my front door, I hear music coming from inside and peek through the front window. I can’t help but smile at what I see. Quinn is standing in my living room, listening to music and using a remote as a microphone. Honestly, it’s cute as fuck. I can only assume she just finished working out because she’s in a sports bra and spandex shorts.
It’s hard not to notice how natural this feels…how her being in my home, dancing around and putting on a one-man show feels right. And I’m already starting to forget why we weren’t going to hook up while this arrangement was going on in the first place.
I can’t get attached to her again. The one time I did…well that was around the time Nana started to struggle, and feeling like I was losing them both at the same time nearly destroyed me. I’ll never forget the cold glare in Ally’s eyes when she looked at me and broke my heart. “Quinn’s not interested; in fact, she’s out on a date with Kyle right now.”
My heart shattered, and I dropped the bouquet of flowers I was holding and turned around and walked away. It just hurt knowing that she never cared about me the way I thought she did.
But that is all in the past. We’re older, wiser…okay, maybe just older, but I’m wise enough to know that I need to protect myself.
I need to protect my heart so that it doesn’t get trampled on again.
It’s why I don’t date. I haven’t dated anyone since I split up with Ally, and even that didn’t feel like a full-blown relationship, even though we were engaged. It felt more like an arrangement, like I was trapped in some sort of horror show, forced to put on an act. It was all just pretense, and when we were at home and away from the eyes of everyone else, we were strangers.
Does it suck that she cheated on me instead of just breaking up with me? Fuck, yeah. But honestly, it hurt my pride more than anything, not because I was sad about losing Ally. I mean, I cared about her; I’m not a complete fucking dick. I just wasn’t in love with her.
“What are you looking at?” Martin, my neighbor across the street, shouts from his yard. He’s a really good guy, albeit a little nosy. I swear to God, that man knows about every single thing that goes on in this neighborhood.
Shaking my head, I laugh as I turn to him. “Just thinking about some ideas I have for the place,” I fib.
He gives me a weird expression, like he doesn’t quite believe me. I’m not sure why, but I don’t want to tell him about Quinn. I want to keep this little facade we have going on to ourselves, at least as much as possible. There’s no way I can keep this from the team, especially since the whole point of this is to get Coach to leave us both alone.
“But…you’re just staring? Did you get hit in the head at practice today, boy?” he shouts louder, like he’s worried I’m injured or hard of hearing. No, Martin, that’s you, my friend.
“Yeah, I’m heading in now. I just had to picture some things in my mind.”
Like what it would look like when I bend her over that couch and slam my dick inside her tight, wet cunt until she screams my name loud enough that my neighbors can hear her from here.
“Alright…you have a good night then,” he says before waving and turning back to walk to his mailbox.
Chuckling at his awkwardness, I turn and open my front door and get to experience Quinn belting out a Christina Aguilera song, doing the “Genie in a Bottle” dance…not that I even know what that is…
Fuck, she is hot.
“Working on your backup career?” I say as she finishes her performance. She jumps about thirty-five feet into the air and screams, throwing the remote directly at my face. “What the fuck, Quinn?” I shout, grabbing my eye that just got rocked.
“Don’t ‘what the fuck’ me, Levi. What the fuck are you doing?” she shouts right back at me.
“Me? Ma’am, I was just watching you put on your performance in my living room. Is that a crime now?” I say as I rub my eye.
“Shit. Did I hurt you? I’m sorry. I sort of freaked out and just threw whatever I had, and unfortunately, it was the remote.”
“Don’t you mean the microphone?” I deadpan, and she slaps my arm before looking at my eye. Her fingers graze over the tender skin, spreading warmth wherever she touches.
“I’m going to get you ice. Go sit down on the couch.”
Ignoring her, I stand there and watch as she moves to the freezer and pulls out an ice pack before grabbing my hand and dragging me to the living room.
“Sit,” she demands before sitting on the couch next to me, immediately pressing the ice on my eye while simultaneously trying to check the bump…with the ice covering it. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s cute that she’s concerned.
“What are you doing?” I grumble as I lean back on the couch.
“Checking your eye out. My uncle will have my ass if I hurt one of his stars.”
“Your uncle couldn’t give a rat’s ass if I’m injured or not,” I tell her before opening my eyes just a bit. Her face is now even closer to mine as she inspects me like I was just in a serious accident, not just getting pegged in the face with the remote. “You think I’m a star?”
“God, you’re so cocky,” Quinn says before scooting up on the couch, leaving me to hold the ice.
“You’ve never complained about my cock before,” I joke.
“You’re something else,” she says shaking her head, but I catch the corner of her lip tilting up a bit, her icy exterior defrosting just a smidge. “How was the rest of practice?”
“It was fine. We got our asses chewed out because Jax and Nash kept fucking off and couldn’t score a goal to save their lives.”
“They’ll be fine. The season hasn’t even started yet. It usually takes you guys a little time to get flowing, but once you do, you’re unstoppable,” Quinn says, the compliment rolling off her lips so easily that I’m not even sure she realized she said it.
It’s also not lost on me that she’s been following our team closely enough to recognize patterns in our play—something that even took us, the players, a while to realize. It’s impressive how aware she is of the game, but I’m internally celebrating the fact that she’s been keeping track of our team even after moving away.
“Yeah, but it’s still frustrating knowing how well we work together that we can’t just start the season that way. I hope that by opening night this weekend, we’ll have our shit together. Just what I need—piss Coach and myself off by not getting a win at home.”
“I understand that, and just like anything, it takes time…but you don’t need me telling you that. You’ve done this your entire life. You’ve lived it,” she says, and I can tell she’s nervous by the way she’s been biting her cheek. “I’d ignore my uncle, though. Usually, he’s more bark than bite.”
“Key word…usually. Regardless, don’t question yourself. You’ve grown up around hockey just as much as I have.”
“But you play the game; I’m just on the sidelines. It’s different,” she says with a shrug, and it annoys me the way she doesn’t believe in herself.
“On the sidelines, making sure we can play the game. It’s important. Plus, you need to know how our bodies work, what muscles we need to strengthen to play at our best, and how to help us when we get injured. That’s important stuff. Without trainers like you, who actually take the time to learn their craft so well to keep us at our best, we wouldn’t be as successful as we are. Don’t undervalue the hard work you’ve put into this, or the experience you have, just because you’re not physically playing the game.”
Her eyes soften as she watches me, almost like she needed the validation. Quinn works harder than anyone, always researching and trying to learn new things. We may not have hour-long conversations about our lives, but every time we’d get together over the years, we’d do the random life updates—superficial level only, but it was nice to get a little insight into her life, especially her schooling. I loved it because she was so passionate about it. It’s something that makes her happy, and I’ve always been proud that she chased her dreams.
“I mean, I guess. I just don’t want to come across like a snob, or like I know more than the people who actually play the game. By the way, I didn’t say this earlier because you scared the shit out of me, and then I freaked out when I realized I hurt you, but sorry about that. I don’t exactly have the best reflexes when I get startled.”
“Noted,” I tell her with a smirk. “It’s not a big deal. I get slammed into by two-hundred-pound grown men on the daily. I can handle a remote.”
“Fair,” she replies.
“I’m glad to see that you brought your stuff. Did you get settled into your room? I hope I gave enough information.”
“Sir, you left me a five-minute-long voice memo explaining everything. I was able to figure it out perfectly. Thank you again for letting me stay here. I refused to stay with Ally, and I just didn’t want to burden anyone until I could find my own place.”
“Asking for help doesn’t make you a burden.”
“No, but it also doesn’t show that I’m capable of being an adult,” she says, her eyes not meeting mine, and I hate how unsure she is. I hate how much she feels the need to constantly prove herself. She’s so successful already and she’s only twenty-four. That’s something she should celebrate, but it seems like she feels the people around her are never satisfied.
Coach and Ally are probably the worst perpetrators.
If I had any doubts about whether or not this was something I wanted to go through with, hearing her talk now only solidified it. I want to show them we are happy, that Quinn is incredible, and prove to them that she’s more than just capable—she’s amazing.
“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing you’re living with your boyfriend. That way, they won’t think you’re asking for help,” I tell her with a wink, and she actually blushes.
The girl who’s choked on my cock and who I’ve licked every inch of her body is still nervous around me. I like that more than I should.
“Yeah, yeah,” she says with a laugh. “I really should go look through my stuff. I have to figure out what to wear for the first game, but I’m just too lazy.”
“I get that,” I tell her, laughing. My eye is starting to hurt, but I don’t tell her that. After, we both sit in silence on the couch, shifting and avoiding eye contact like we aren’t exactly sure what we’re supposed to do. Neither of us entirely knows what to say, as we’ve honestly never really “hung out” before, at least not in years.
Not since we were younger. We used to hang out all the time, but that was before everything happened. After that, we lost touch for a while, only seeing each other when we were in the same place at the same time, mostly for family events, and never intentionally.
Until Ally and I split.
One night I was out with the team and ran into Quinn at a bar. She ended up coming over and hanging out with us and meeting the guys.
A lot of tequila later and a few rounds of truth or dare with the guys, with quite a few very pointed questions our way, I learned just how adventurous she was…in and out of the bedroom. It’s always been a challenge for me to find someone who I am sexually compatible with because my tastes can be a little too much for some people.
I’m not talking whips and chains or, like, a red room of fun or anything. I just like what I like, and what I like is being in control. I always have, both in and out of the bedroom. People used to joke and call me type A, but I think it was more than that. When I was a kid, I was put in therapy after I started asking questions about why my parents left. My therapist was great, asked a lot of questions, and I ended up seeing him for a couple of years.
I still remember one day he told me that I liked to control things around me, not because I was mean, but merely because I hated losing my parents and had no control over it. It felt hopeless, and I hated it.
In the bedroom, if I’m in charge, I call the shots. I make sure we both leave satisfied, and I never have to feel vulnerable. It’s safe. Plus, it turns me the fuck on to be fucking someone within an inch of her life. My hand wrapped around her throat with only a safe word between us.
It takes a lot of trust…something I’ve only ever had with Quinn.
She starts to stand up, and I realize we’ve just been sitting in silence for a while. Even though I don’t know what to say, I’m not ready for her to walk away.
“Want to play some video games? I know you used to hate them, but it could be fun,” I say quietly, almost nervous that she’ll turn me down.
She freezes then turns around with a smirk.
“You’re getting me confused with the wrong sister, buddy. I love video games,” Quinn says, surprising the absolute fuck out of me.
“Zombies or NCAA?”
“Is that even a question? Zombies is my favorite. Let’s go,” she says with a little happy clap and a dance before pulling me up from the couch. “Let’s go play. I wanna shoot shit.”
And with that, Quinn somehow got even more perfect.