Chapter Seven Gavin
Chapter Seven
Gavin
I am playing with fire. Temptation. Whatever you want to call it, I shouldn’t be inviting Sienna to my apartment. I live by myself, meaning we’ll be all alone, and that’s dangerous. The last time I was alone with Sienna, I basically mauled her and had my hands all over her juicy ass—and other places.
My gaze drops to said juicy ass, and I stare at it for a moment too long. Meaning she catches me, and when I look up, there’s a satisfied glow in her eyes that wasn’t there before.
She is feeling it too. That makes this even more dangerous.
“I’ll come check out your apartment, Gavin.” The moment the light turns green, she’s walking across the street, and I keep up with her, startled she agreed so easily. “Can’t lie—I’ve been curious about your domain.”
“My domain?”
“Your private space. You’ve always lived alone, you know. And you rarely invite anyone over.”
“I lived in the dorms my freshman year, and I had a roommate.” It’s required that all incoming freshmen are in the dorms their first year of school at UC Santa Mira.
“Oh, right. I wasn’t here then.” She smiles up at me, and if I was a more dramatic person, I’d clutch my chest and stagger backward because, damn, that’s a beautiful smile. “You’ve been living alone since I arrived in Santa Mira, and I never hear about anyone hanging out with you.”
“That’s not true.” I have the occasional girl over, but I always give them the boot before the sun starts rising. Not that I’ll mention that to Sienna. “Your brother comes over sometimes.”
“He does?” She’s surprised.
“And Nico. Some of the other guys.” It’s boring at my place because it’s just me. I use it for what it is—somewhere to eat, sleep, and shower. I don’t like being by myself for too long, and I’m rarely there.
“You’ve never invited me over.”
“Because you avoided me like I had a contagious disease.”
She laughs, tilting her head back, and her auburn hair catches the light. The temptation to sink my fingers into the silky strands and give them a tug is strong, but I restrain myself. “True. Don’t forget you avoided me too.”
“And look at us now. Spending time together.” I give in and reach out, tugging on the end of a strand of her hair. “We’re making progress.”
“I guess we are.” She dodges away from me like she wants me to stop, and maybe she does. Why do I lose all sense of boundaries when I’m around her?
We make small talk until we arrive at my apartment complex, and I lead her down the walkway toward my building. She takes everything in, her eyes wide. “This is really nice. Is it brand new?”
“They remodeled the entire complex a few years ago. I guess it was in bad shape. They opened back up my freshman year, and my father got in on the wait list.” He’s all about appearances, and he wanted his son to stay in the best apartment complex near campus. Considering most of the complexes are old and not in the best condition, he got lucky. Even though he grumbles over how much everything costs in this town.
The only reason they can command these sorts of prices is because of their location on the coast.
The old man loves to complain, even if he has more money than God.
She turns to face me fully. “Are you close with your father?”
I want to laugh. I want to blurt out Fuck no , but that would be rude. Instead, I say, “Not really.”
And I leave it at that.
“Oh.” She waits, like I might say more, but when I remain silent, she falls into step beside me as I keep walking, heading for my building. It’s in the back, on the far right, and my patio butts up against the police station. Meaning it stays relatively quiet around here because no crime is happening that close to the cops.
I walk past her and go to the front door, opening it for her and letting her walk inside first. She stops in the middle of the living area and does a slow circle, taking everything in, which isn’t much.
“You don’t have a lot of furniture,” she observes.
“It’s enough.” I shrug. There’s a couch and a coffee table and an end table with a lamp on it. A big-screen TV hangs on the wall, with a gaming console on the floor, the controllers sitting neatly on top of it and the cords wrapped around them. I don’t have a dining table, even though there’s space for it, but I do have a couple of barstools tucked under the kitchen counter.
“One bedroom or two?” she asks as she glances toward the hallway.
“One. I don’t need two.” She looks back at me. “You can go check out my bedroom if you want.”
Her curiosity is practically vibrating off her body, and I’ve got nothing to hide.
Sienna doesn’t even hesitate—she heads for my bedroom, then pushes the door open and peeks inside before she fully enters the room. I give her a moment, let her look her fill, and then I walk in, looming behind her as she examines the giant poster on the wall that hangs above my dresser.
It’s a photo of the three of us—me, Nico, and Coop—after our team won the national championship our sophomore year. It was an epic season, an epic moment, and the campus store actually sold this poster at the beginning of our junior year. I bought one immediately and had it framed.
“This is a great photo,” she murmurs as she studies it.
“It’s my favorite. I’m grateful the photographer captured the moment.”
“You all look so happy.”
“We were.”
“Especially you.” She aims that potent smile straight at me, and I feel it all the way down to my soul. “I don’t think you’ve ever looked this happy.”
“Oh yeah?” I stand next to her and examine the photo closely, trying to see what she sees. I do look happy. That was the most triumphant I’d ever felt. Like I hit the pinnacle of my college football career, and I was only a sophomore. I haven’t felt that high since. “There are no posters of us this year.”
“You can’t beat yourself up over the loss, Gavin. You’ll get it this year.” Her voice is confident, and I wish I felt as positive as she sounds.
“You think so?” The doubt creeps in, which is rare. I’m a confident person. In my position, I have to be. I’ve been at this long enough that I believe in myself and my abilities. I am a solid quarterback who is only made better by the team that surrounds me. Together, we feel unstoppable.
But last year a couple of our key players were taken out during the season with major injuries that required lots of recovery time. The other teams got serious and studied our film, figuring out what we were doing. And just like that, we were taken down a peg or ten.
Outwardly I chalked it up to bad luck, but deep inside, I was devastated. Humiliated. I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide for the rest of the school year, but my friends and teammates wouldn’t let me, especially Coop.
“My brother thinks you’re going all the way this season, and when he says stuff like that, I tend to believe him.” She glances up at me at the same time I look down at her. She’s tall, but I’ve still got her beat. “You’ve got this.”
“From your lips to the football gods’ ears,” I joke, realizing my mistake when I say the word lips out loud. It’s all I can do. Stare at them. Her lips.
They’re the perfect shape, her upper lip as full as the bottom, and this close to her, I can see she has an actual freckle on her bottom lip. That’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, but I know if I bring it up, she’ll get defensive because her freckles seem to be her greatest insecurity.
“I should probably go.” Her voice breaks the spell, and she takes a step back, creating some distance between us, but I take a step closer, addicted to her scent. The warmth emanating from her body. She goes completely still, lifting her head to meet my gaze, and I realize we’re closer than I thought.
Running on pure instinct, I reach for her, and she doesn’t flinch or push me away. She lets me touch her cheek. Streak my fingers along her soft skin as I shift even closer, our chests brushing. I slip my other arm around her waist, tugging her into me, and again, she doesn’t protest or struggle to get out of my hold. I’d stop if she asked me to.
But I don’t stop. And she doesn’t ask me to.
Dipping my head, I brush my mouth against hers. Her lips are soft and plump and perfect, and when I kiss her again, I hear her sigh. I shouldn’t do this. Coop would kill me. I’m not ready for a relationship, and Sienna is a relationship-type woman. It’s what she deserves, and trust me when I say this woman deserves the entire world.
Am I the one who can give it to her? Doubtful. I’ve been on this planet for nearly twenty-three years, and I haven’t figured out how to be selfless yet. At least when it comes to a woman.
I tip my head to the side, eager to deepen the kiss, when I feel her hands rest on my chest and gently push me away. I stumble backward, my eyes flying open to find her watching me with such a sad expression on her face, my heart actually hurts.
“Sienna ... ,” I start, but I don’t know what else to say.
She slowly shakes her head, and I know I’ve disappointed her. Typical.
“I should go,” she murmurs. I hear a stomach growl, and at first, I think it’s mine, but then I realize from Sienna’s suddenly pink cheeks that it must’ve been hers. “Apparently I need lunch.”
I’m tempted to offer to take her somewhere, but I don’t. She’d probably tell me no, anyway. I never should’ve kissed her, though I can’t deny that I don’t regret it.
Not at all.
Instead, I walk her to the door and tell her goodbye, thanking her for stopping by my place. “You’re the first girl who’s been here in a while,” I admit, and just from the faintly disgusted look on her face, I know I’ve blown it.
“Gee. What an honor,” she mutters as she walks away. I half expect her to flip me off, but she doesn’t. I breathe a sigh of relief.
And berate myself for the rest of the afternoon for inserting my foot into my mouth around Sienna yet again.
“Okay, fuckers.” Nico rubs his gloved hands together, the noise they make grating on my already tired nerves. “We need to kick our asses into gear. No more lagging on the field. We have our first game in a week. Shit’s turning serious real fast.”
Me, Nico, and Coop are standing in front of the team, supposedly giving them an inspirational speech. Our coaching staff is having an unexpected meeting, and they left us in charge.
Dangerous.
“Are you trying to scare the hell out of them or what?” Coop shakes his head. “Coach said to motivate, not terrorize them.”
“You speak then.” Nico waves his hands at Coop, knowing full well that won’t happen.
“He’s not the speech type and you know it.” I stand in front of the both of them, cutting them off as I start speaking, giving the most rousing speech I can come up with. Talking about the season and how much this year means to me and my closest friends since we’re seniors. Our futures are on the line, and every single game counts.
“Every single one,” I tell them, my hands on my hips and my voice heated. Even Nico and Coop appear enthralled with what I’m saying. “But we can’t do this alone. We need to rely on each other. Not make stupid mistakes, especially during practice. If we make one wrong move and one of us ends up injured? We’re done for.” I pause for effect. “The season is over.”
The entire team is quiet. I can even hear the water crashing against the surf on the other side of the stadium and the shrill call of the seagulls as they fly overhead. And this is exactly what I want. Driving in my feelings, my worry, my need for this season to be the best that it’s ever been. I want this.
Fuck, I need it.
“Let’s go out there and make shit happen. We need to practice today like we’re playing an actual game. No fuckups. No mistakes. Just pure, clean game play while we get everything dialed in. What do you say?”
A collective “Yes!” sounds, their deep voices rising.
“Then, let’s do this!” I clap my hands together, Nico and Coop seeming to know exactly when to join in and clap along with me. “Get into position!”
Everyone scrambles out onto the field, and I’m about to jog out there and join them when Nico calls my name. I stop and wait for him.
“Bro, you do that way better than I do,” he says.
“Do what?”
“Inspire people. The team.” He slaps me on the shoulder. “You got them all rowdy. Even me.”
We jog out onto the field together, and I think about what he said. Being the quarterback is always a leadership role with the team. It’s something I’ve done for years, and I guess it just comes naturally. I’m sure as shit I didn’t get any inspiration from my father. That guy may lead a multimillion-dollar company, but he’s never shown me any type of leadership while I was growing up. Unless when you refer to leadership you mean your dad is constantly yelling in your face how you’re not good enough, you need to toughen up. Do you really want to give your position up to some other asshole? Do you want to end up a loser?
That’s what my father would say to me. I remember him yelling at me like that after a youth-league game. I was ten. And I wasn’t allowed to cry.
No, I owe any leadership skills I’ve acquired to the coaches who’ve taught me and my teammates. That’s it. Dear old Dad gets zero credit.
None.
I’m about to get into position when my gaze snags on a figure sitting in the bleachers. I stand taller, squinting in the sun, and yep, that’s Sienna. I’d recognize that beautiful red hair anywhere.
She raises her hand to shade her eyes, staring back at me, and even from this distance, I feel a jolt. Her lips curve into a small smile, and I smile back like a goof, knowing she isn’t here to watch me but pretending she is anyway. And I proceed to play my fucking heart out, showing off for her. Hoping that she’s impressed because, deep down, that’s all I want.
To impress Sienna.