Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
CHELSEA
I can honestly say that I have never in my life had sex like this.
It’s definitely not the ideal location in terms of comfort, but, holy shit, it was hot.
My heart rate is finally slowing down, and I lift my head from Bo’s shoulder.
He pulls out and releases my legs, then moves his hands to my face, kissing me reverently.
The kiss starts to deepen again, but the timer on the oven buzzes, startling us.
He rests his forehead against mine. “We’d better get that before we burn the complex down, huh?” he says with a deep chuckle.
“Yeah, that would be bad, considering what we had to deal with last week. Can you pull that out of the oven while I go … clean up?” I run my hands over his shoulders and down his arms.
“I can do that.” He lifts me by the waist and sets me on my feet.
My shorts, thong, and tank top are somewhere around here, but I don’t bother looking for them because I can feel Bo’s cum slipping out, which is equal parts hot and, well, sticky.
I close the door to the bathroom, take care of business because no one likes a UTI, and wash my hands.
When I look at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but smile.
My hair is coming out of my lose ponytail, my cheeks and chest are flush, and there’s a faint bite mark on my neck.
I can hear him in the kitchen, so I dry my hands, then redo my ponytail quickly.
When I open the door, the smell of our dinner permeates through the room.
I’m not trying to brag or anything, but I’m a decent cook.
I tried to pick something healthy this time since I know Bo has to watch what he eats.
The pan with our dinner on it is sitting on top of the oven, foil still covering it. Bo has his sweats back on, but no shirt, standing at the counter, where we just had sex, and he’s cleaning it. I mean … how cute is he?
He looks up and sees me walking toward him, still naked. “Goddamn you are gorgeous.”
He put my clothes on one of the stools at the bar, so I dress quickly. As I walk by him, I stop and lean up to kiss him. “You’re gorgeous too.” I nod to the counter. “Thanks for doing that.”
“Of course.” He tosses the paper towel in the garbage and washes his hands. The towel is hanging on the oven door that I’m standing in front of, so I scoot to the side so he can reach it. “It smells awesome.” His stomach grumbles.
“Hungry?” I say with a giggle.
“Yeah, between practice and”—he wraps his arms around my waist from behind and rests his chin on my shoulder—“you, I’m starving.”
I like being in his arms. He makes me feel safe, calm, and not at all anxious.
“I’m a little hungry myself.” I reach into the cabinet in front of me and pull two plates from it.
“Can I do anything to help?” He kisses my shoulder and backs up so I can move to get the spatula from the cylinder.
“I think we’re good. Just tell me how much you want, and then we can sit at the table to eat.” I nod toward the table.
“You can load up my plate. I can eat all of this. Do you want something to drink?” He moves to the fridge and pulls it open. Like he’s comfortable being here. And I like it.
“Sure, a bottle of water is good.” I place two chicken breasts on his plate, then scoop some of the couscous and veggies onto the plate. I walk over to the table and set his plate down on a place mat in front of him. Then I plate my food and stop to grab us forks and knives before I sit down.
“Thank you, Chelsea. This looks amazing.” He reaches for my hand, and I take it.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re here. Now let’s eat before you faint from starvation.” I wink at him.
“I think I’ll be fine, but I want to eat so I can get back to kissing on you.” He releases my hand, picks up his fork and knife, then stabs into his chicken and cuts it up into neat squares, but looks up at me and smiles.
That smile of his does things to me. I feel a flutter in my belly when I think about what we just did, and I can’t wait to do it again. “Yes, let’s do more of that.”
I cut into my own chicken and take a bite. He’s watching me eat while he eats.
“So, Chelsea, tell. me about that tattoo I saw on your arm.” He points his fork in my direction.
I turn my arm to the side to give him a better look.
“This is Lady Justice.” It’s not huge, but it’s big enough to cover my shoulder and halfway down my arm.
“As soon as I turned eighteen, I went and got this tattoo. My aunt nearly killed me herself when she saw it. Not really because of it, but more so because of how big it was.”
“Aha. That makes sense with you wanting to be a lawyer.” He nods.
That’s only a slice of why I got it, but I’m not ready to dive into my whole story. However, I can’t help but hear my aunt’s words in my head, telling me to be open to having someone to share things with. And I think Bo could be that person. Still, I don’t think I can tell him everything right now.
“Yep. Plus, the sword looked badass, so it was a win all around.” I smile at him.
We make small talk as we finish eating. He tells me more about the upcoming season and games he’s looking forward to. I tell him a little about the classes I’m taking. We clean up the kitchen together, and then he leads me over to the couch.
I sit down, and he sits down close to me, stretching his arm along the back of the couch.
“Want to watch a movie or something?” I ask him as I pick up the remote. “Or are you gonna head home soon?”
He shifts and angles his body to look at me. “I would love to stay if you’ll let me. I’m definitely not ready to go home yet.” His fingers play with a few loose strands of my hair.
I set my hand closest to him on his thigh. “I would like that. So, should we watch something?”
“Would you be annoyed if I said I wanted to catch SportsCenter? I just like to see what they’re saying.” He lifts a shoulder.
“Yeah, totally fine with me.” I hand him the remote. “Here, you can find it.”
“Thanks. I still want to talk to you though. I want to know more about you and things you like.” He finds the channel he wants, then sets the remote down on the coffee table in front of us.
“Okay, but you have to answer my questions too then.” I hold out my hand. “Deal?”
Bo takes my hand in his. “Deal.” He raises them and places a kiss on the back of my hand. “Let’s start with the basics. What’s your favorite color?”
“Umm … probably orange.” I tilt my head. “Yeah, orange.”
“Orange? Really? I would not have guessed that. Why orange?” His thumb traces circles over the top of my hand.
I shrug. “I think because it reminds me of a sunset at home. I love when the yellows, pinks, blues, and the oranges of the sun all blend together when the sun goes down. It just feels magical, you know? Like you’ve made it through the day and it’s time to just chill and get ready for a new one.”
“I like that. We have some pretty great sunsets in California too. The Oklahoma sky isn’t so bad either. But it’s not the daylight or dusk I love. It’s the dead of night. Did you ever notice how big the sky seems here?”
“Yeah, it’s crazy, right? I thought it was just me.
That was one of the first things I noticed when I moved here for school.
I would sit outside my dorm room and just look up at the sky at night.
It seems like the stars are never-ending.
And so bright.” I smile, thinking about how free I felt the first time I lay on the grass outside my dorm. The peace it brought me.
“I sit outside sometimes at night, looking at the stars. It almost feels like we’re in a planetarium or something,” he says, laughing.
I nod exaggeratedly. “It really does. That’s a perfect comparison.”
There’s a flutter in my stomach—a deep, swoopy feeling that’s somehow grounding and dizzying at the same time.
It’s ridiculous really. One minute, he’s making me laugh, and the next, he says something about stars, and I swear my heart just …
flips. Like my body knows I’m falling before my brain’s even caught up.
“Okay, so Chelsea from Florida has a tattoo and likes the color orange and the Oklahoma sky. What’s your favorite candy?” He reaches over and pulls my legs over the top of his.
“I’m a chocolate girl. I can eat candy, but I prefer chocolate if I’m going to have sweets.”
“What’s your favorite chocolate then?” He rubs his hands up and down my legs.
“Probably Snickers or Twix. Snickers was my mom’s favorite too.” The words come out before I even process them. I never talk about my mom.
Aunt Laura’s words play through my mind again about being open to sharing with other people. It’s just that no one really knows my story here and why I was raised by my aunt, and I like that. The anonymity from my old life.
“Was? Did she pass?” I can feel him searching my face. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I just want to get to know you better, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable either.”
I pull a deep breath in and decide to give him some partial truths. “Yes, she died when I was twelve.”
“I’m sorry, Chelsea. Did your dad pass away too?” The hand that’s on the back of the couch moves to my shoulder, stroking it in a comforting way.
As much as I want to be able to talk about this with him, I just … can’t. “He’s just not in the picture.” Which is true. “My aunt raised my sister and me, but you already know that.”
He’s looking at me like he can tell there is more to the story, but after a minute, he just smiles. “Right, yeah.”
Time to switch directions before I say more than I want to. “So, Bo Callaway, what is your favorite color and candy?”
“Easy. Blue, although it’s quickly changing to green. And Twizzlers are my favorite candy. I can eat an entire bag in one sitting, and I have no shame in that.”
He places his hand on his chest. I put my hand over his and laugh.
“I’m not shaming you. I don’t mind Twizzlers. But why is your favorite color changing?”
He moves his hand from his chest and slides it into my hair. “Because every time I see you and look into your eyes, I get lost in them.”
“You get lost, huh?” I start to laugh. “That’s a little extra.”
“Yeah, I guess that sounds cheesy, but it’s true. They’re almost like a soft teal green or something. I’ve never seen anything like it. They’re stunning.”
I can feel my cheeks heat. “Thank you. I do like my eyes.” I grab my ponytail. “But this, on the other hand, I could do without.”
“Why don’t you like your hair?” He pulls my hand away from the ponytail, laughing.
I shrug. “It’s just thick and hard to manage sometimes. Although it’s better here in Oklahoma than in Florida.”
He looks like he’s trying to hold in a laugh.
“Are you laughing at me?” I poke him in the side.
“No! I would never. I was just trying not to be a child and say, That’s what she said.”
“What?” Then it dawns on me. “Oh … thick and hard?” I laugh.
“Bingo! Sorry. I couldn’t help it. I think I’ve been around my friends for too long.”
I scoot into him closer so our bodies are touching. “You do have a good group of friends. Like, seriously, they’re all good guys. I won’t lie and say when I met y’all, I didn’t think you were just a bunch of jocks. But I really like all of you.”
“Ouch. But also, valid. That’s why I love my friends. They’re not full of themselves, and they’re just honest and kind people, genuinely. You know?” He tilts his head to the side.
“For sure. They’re good guys.” I turn to look at the TV and see Bo on the screen. “Look! You’re on TV!”
He nods, already watching. “Yeah, they’re probably just talking about the game this weekend.”
“It’s an away game, right?”
He glances over at me. “Yep, we’re going to Texas A I not only know what position you play, but I have your number too.”
“You do, do you?” He lifts his eyebrows.
I nod dramatically, then hold an imaginary microphone in my hand. “Number six. Starting quarterback for the Walker University Stallions, Bo Callaway!” I drop my hands from my mouth. “Wait, or do they call you Columbus?” I know they don’t, but I will never not bring this up.
“Very funny. You want to be tickled again?” He lifts me up and sets me on his lap, then places a kiss on my neck.
“Nah, I’m good.” I wrap my arms around his shoulders. “Did you see everything you needed to see on the TV?”
He trails more kisses up my neck, nips my earlobe, then moves toward my lips. “I did.” One of his hands is holding me around my waist, and the other starts making its way into my tank top. When he reaches my breast, he pinches my nipple between his thumb and index finger, making me gasp.
“Good. You should probably get to bed. You have a very busy day tomorrow. School, practice …” I drop my head to the side to give him more access to my neck.
“Don’t forget; I have my test tomorrow too.” He reminds me between kisses.
I turn my face toward his. “That’s right; you do. So, we should definitely get you to bed.” I kiss him on the lips slowly.
In one swift motion, he stands with me in his arms. “I agree. We should go to bed.” He walks into the hallway. “Which one is yours?”
I point to my room. “That one.” I can’t help the smile spreading on my face.
When we reach my room, he strides toward the bed and lays me gently on top. “But first, I need to study a little more. My tutor likes to be thorough.” He pulls my shorts off my body first, then strips off my tank top.
“You probably should. One more recap.”
I scoot back further onto the bed and watch as he sets his phone on my nightstand and removes his sweatpants. He’s hard again, and it’s stirring heat low in my belly.
“Practice makes perfect and all that, right?” He climbs onto the bed, then trails kisses up my thigh as his hands hold my hips in place. “In fact, I think I’ll start right here.” He places a kiss right on top of my pussy.
When his tongue slides through my center, I let out a moan. “That seems like a good idea.”
He hums in agreement and then continues to study. Every. Inch. Of. My. Body.