Chapter Twelve Gavin
Chapter Twelve
Gavin
Ben was at my parents’ for the night, which gave me the option to either go out or sit in a quiet house with thoughts dominating my mind.
Thoughts that somehow constantly traced back to Emily.
Since there was no way in hell I was going to spend my evening doing the latter, I reached out to Jordan, and he told me to come over.
When Denis dropped me off and I walked into my brother’s pad, never did I think Emily would be sitting on his couch.
She was a woman I simply couldn’t escape, no matter how hard I tried.
Her expression, when her eyes locked with mine, confirmed she was just as surprised to see me.
But was her cunt throbbing like my dick was now doing in my jeans? Was her skin on fucking fire, desperate for me to touch it?
And if I did, something I ached to do, I wondered what the temperature of her flesh would be. If my fingers went to her pussy, would it be wet?
Would she buck her hips forward, forcing that finger to slip in? Would she continue to dive her pussy down my finger until it was fully inside her?
Those were the questions I wanted answered as I took her in.
Fuck me, she was sexy in anything she wore.
Tonight happened to be workout clothes: black leggings that clung to her gorgeous legs, a Bears T-shirt that she’d tied and knotted at her waist, showing off the flatness of her stomach and the curves of her hips.
Her long blond hair was in a ponytail on top of her head, her bright-blue eyes wide, aware, and on me.
And while I stared at her best friend, Maya spoke about me, the sound of my name causing my attention to shift to her.
“Gavin, my girl here needs a happily ever after. In other words, she needs a Jordan. So I asked Jordan if he had any single friends we could hook her up with, and you, being single yourself, just so happened to walk in.” Maya smiled.
I got the sense she still didn’t know about Emily and me. I assumed that meant Jordan didn’t either, or he would have mentioned it. Therefore, Maya’s statement was completely innocent.
But I didn’t know how to respond, so I dropped my head, shaking it a few times before I gripped the back of my neck.
“Please . . . you guys seriously need to stop.” As I looked at Emily, she was putting her hand over her eyes, like a visor. “I don’t need you to set me up with anyone.”
“Hold on a second. Jordan, we’re being so rude.” Maya pointed at Emily and me. “Do you guys even know each other?” She paused, and neither of us responded. “Em, this is Gavin, Jordan’s brother—”
“We’ve met.” Emily removed her hand from her eyes and slowly glanced up at me.
“I didn’t realize that.” Maya pulled her legs off Jordan’s lap and positioned herself directly next to him, cuddling into his side. “When did you meet?”
“She was in Grandma’s room when I came to visit her the other day.” While holding my neck, my other hand slipped into my pocket. “She told me who she was and connected all the dots.”
I could tell Emily was waiting for me to say more. Perhaps that she had come over to treat Ben, but I wasn’t going there. The second I said anything about her coming to my place, my brother would take that story and fucking run with it and fill in every blank.
“Ah, perfect,” Maya said. “Glad we’re all acquainted.”
Jordan grabbed Maya’s glass of wine and took a drink. “Since you guys know each other, who do you think would be good for her? We must know someone.” His brow furrowed, telling me he was really thinking about this. “How about Mitch Childers?”
Jesus Christ.
Out of all conversations, why did I have to walk into this one?
“Mitch Childers?” I chuckled as I walked over to his bar to pour several fingers of scotch into a tumbler. I refused to picture Emily with the quarterback’s coach of the Deers. “That motherfucker doesn’t know his ass from his elbow.”
“But he’s a nice guy,” Jordan countered.
I filled the glass higher than I’d planned and returned the bottle to the shelf before I took a seat at the end of the sectional, putting at least five spots between Emily and me.
“Who the fuck cares if he’s nice or not.
The dude speaks football, nothing else. She’d be asleep within five minutes of their conversation. ”
“You’re being a little rough on the guy, aren’t you?”
I stared at my brother like he had six fucking heads. “He’s not right for her. Move on.”
“I just want to make sure . . . you do want a nice guy, don’t you, Emily?” Jordan inquired.
Emily tucked her legs to her chest. “As opposed to an asshole? For sure.” She was rubbing her hand over the front of her head, then stilled. “But remember, we’re not setting me up.”
“She doesn’t mean that—the not-setting-up part, I’m talking about.” Maya winked at her friend. “Keep brainstorming, Jordan.”
“Oh shit, I know.” My brother nodded toward me. “Mike Wilson. He’s perfect for her.”
“Why does that name sound familiar?” Maya asked.
Jordan pointed at Emily’s shirt. “She’s already a fan.” He laughed, even though not a single word of this was fucking funny. “He’s the head coach of the Bears.”
I drained a third of my glass. “And someone who wouldn’t be perfect for her.”
“I beg to differ.” Jordan put his arm around Maya’s shoulders and turned toward Emily. “Mike’s in his mid-thirties. Divorced. He has an adorable little girl. And he’s a nice guy, not the playboy type or someone who’s going to treat you like shit.”
But he was too nice.
He wasn’t going to hold her against a wall and pound her pussy just the way she liked. He wasn’t going to show up at her work and have her straddle his face until her cum was on the whiskers of his beard.
Maya gave Jordan’s cheek a kiss. “Why is he divorced?”
“His wife cheated on him.” Jordan gave Maya her wine back. “He came home from a stint of away games and found her with another guy. He was fucking wrecked—I know because I went to the arena and talked to him about it.”
“That type of traveling schedule has to be tough on a family. Poor Mike.” Maya’s tone had softened. “But Em, with how much you work, that schedule would totally jibe with you. You wouldn’t feel guilty for being so busy all the time. And you love kids—the single-dad thing is so your jam.”
Why the hell were they encouraging this?
Because they didn’t know I’d tasted Emily, or that she’d been on my mind every waking second since I’d met her.
My jaws clenched, my teeth now grinding together.
“Do you have a picture of him?” Emily asked.
I looked up from the floor, not realizing I’d been staring at it, and squeezed the thick glass between my fingers.
Did she just say what I think she did?
She’s fucking interested in Mike?
“I’m sure I can find one.” Jordan pulled out his phone, his thumb swiping the screen. “Here you go.”
The phone didn’t make it past Maya’s hands. As she studied the photo, her expression was full of too much goddamn excitement. “Oh yes, we need to make this happen. You’re right, he’s perfect for her.”
“Why do you say that?” Emily was now hugging her legs.
“Because I’m literally staring at your type.”
Emily laughed.
“Tall. Athletic. Extra handsome. Facial hair galore.” She handed Emily the phone. “Meet your future husband.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” She finally glanced at the screen. “But you’re right, he’s definitely my type.”
I was surprised I hadn’t cracked a tooth yet.
“Do you want me to make this happen?” Jordan questioned.
Emily’s chest rose. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
Maybe?
There was more conversation between the three of them, but I didn’t listen. I’d heard more than enough. I left my drink on the floor and returned to the bar, grabbing the bottle this time and bringing it to the couch.
“Thirsty, brother?”
I hadn’t noticed they were watching me as I refilled my glass, the last bit drained when Emily admitted Mike was her type. “It’s been a long day.”
“You want something to eat? There’s a shit-ton of leftovers.” He pointed at the ottoman, where multiple to-go boxes were sitting. “I can get you a plate—”
“I’m good.” I wiggled the full glass in the air. “This is my dinner.”
“Gavin, you can’t have that for dinner.” Maya slid to the end of the couch as if she were on the verge of getting up. “Please let me get you a plate.”
“No, really, I’m fine.” When the scotch hit my tongue, it no longer burned. And the more I drank, which I planned to do, the less I would taste it.
I hoped to hell that meant the less I would think about her too.
“If you’re not going to have any, I’m going to clean up the rest of this and pack it into the fridge.” Jordan got up and collected some of the boxes.
“I’ll help.” Maya picked up what Jordan hadn’t, and the two of them disappeared into the kitchen.
Once their backs were facing us, Emily’s gaze slid over to me. She rubbed her lips together, her body staying folded. The only thing moving was her hand, bringing the wine to her mouth. “I didn’t know you were coming here tonight.”
“I didn’t either. But Ben’s at his grandparents’, and when I called Jordan, he told me to come over.” I swirled the scotch inside the tumbler. “My plan was to drag him out with me.”
“Didn’t you think Maya would be here?”
“That wouldn’t stop me from trying to convince him.”
She smiled but didn’t show any teeth. “Of course. The asshole type.” She winked.
God, why was she so fucking hot?
“How well do you know Mike?”
My brows rose, staying high as I replied, “Wilson?”
She nodded.
I huffed out the air in my mouth. “Well enough. Why?”
“Jordan and Maya are Team Mike. I’d like to know what you think since you know both of us.”
For some reason, sitting here was nagging the shit out of me. I was too still. Too confined. That was one of my favorite parts about my old job—I was always moving on that field. “Didn’t you tell me you don’t want to date?”
She shrugged. “I also told you I want to date. I’ve just stopped putting myself out there, and I let things happen on their own. Clearly, I’m a bunch of mixed signals.”
When I looked up her Instagram account last night, what I saw wasn’t a mixed signal at all.
There wasn’t a dude in any of her photos.
Emily came across very single. But she wasn’t one of those girls who posted half-naked shots of herself or only selfies.
What she shared instead was a collage of her life.
Her friends, places she went, things she found beautiful.
One of my favorites was a picture of her and Maya at the Bears game, the first night she’d seen me, which I knew because I cross-referenced the date.
Right by the glass, in Bettie’s seats, and wearing the same T-shirt she was in now.
But now I knew what was underneath that cotton.
I knew the scent of her skin.
I knew just how she tasted.
“So are you going to give me your opinion?” She stretched her legs across the couch in my direction, but she wasn’t tall enough to reach me. Still, what that did was send me the faintest hint of her perfume.
Coffee and vanilla.
I wasn’t going to survive this fucking night.
There was suddenly nothing left in my glass, and I immediately took care of that. “Why does it matter what I think? Why don’t you just take my brother’s word?”
“Because you know me better than he does.”
More air came through my lips, and just as I was about to respond—words I hadn’t prepared at all—Maya and Jordan returned to the living room. Maya was holding a bottle of tequila, and my brother was carrying four small glasses.
“Shots?” Maya inquired.
“Oh, it’s that kinda night?” Emily laughed.
Maya sat next to her best friend and rubbed their shoulders together. “Why not. We don’t have anywhere to be.”
Emily set her wine down. “I just wasn’t planning on getting that drunk.”
“Well, I am.” I finally pushed back against the cushion, making myself comfortable. A few shots of tequila mixed with this scotch was exactly what I needed. “I’ll take two.”