Chapter 13 Hollis #2
Jack taps on the side of his glass, drawing our attention his way.
“Your name is familiar to me,” he says, looking at me. “Are you from around here?”
“No, sir,” I say. “I’m from Indiana, but I do go to college at Braxton. It’s not that far from here.”
His eyes narrow. “You play football, don’t you?”
I grin. I love it when this happens. In the right audience and in the right year—which this is generally not—it’s pretty cool to be me. I hope, for Larissa’s sake, this is that audience.
“I do. Or, I did. I was the tight end,” I say, talking over the snort from Larissa. “This was my senior year.”
“I didn’t get to follow college football much this year. You had a hell of a season last year, though, didn’t you?”
Thank fuck he didn’t follow this year. He may not be quite as warm if he had.
Not that it really matters.
“Yeah. We won the National Championship. We had a great team and great coaches. It all worked out really well.”
He nods, still thinking. “Did you ever play any baseball?”
“No. No, I didn’t.” I laugh. “There are too many games a year and not enough opportunities to … express myself.”
He laughs, reading between the lines and understanding that I like to hit and get hit.
“I played football and baseball back in my day,” he says. “To be honest with you, I preferred football, but my body just wasn’t cut out to take the abuse, so I ended up focusing on baseball.”
“Well, by the looks of everything tonight, that choice has served you well.”
He smiles broadly. “I like this guy. Good job.” He tosses me a wink before excusing himself to get another drink.
Larissa gives my hand a gentle squeeze. I squeeze it back.
So far, so good.
Trista watches me over the rim of her wineglass. I wonder how many drinks she’s had because her eyes are just a touch glassy.
“Getting Jack’s endorsement is quite a feat,” she tells me. “I’m not sure he’s ever particularly liked someone who Larissa has been involved with.”
The idea of Larissa being involved with anyone sends a ripple of jealousy through me, which is crazy. I’ve never felt jealous over a girl before. Women are easy come, easy go.
Maybe I just ate too many cookies from Judy’s box this morning.
“Well,” I say, forcing a swallow. “I guess he has good taste. He chose you, didn’t he?”
She appreciates this. “That’s very true.”
“I’m sure he just wants what’s best for Larissa,” I say, upping the charm factor. “You have an amazing daughter, Mrs. Cunningham. I’m honored to be here with her tonight.”
Larissa lays her head against my arm. This doesn’t go unnoticed by her mother.
“Well, Hollis,” Trista says, impressed. “I’m delighted to know that you are here. Larissa looks positively smitten with you.”
“And I am with her, as well. But how could you not be? Just look at her.”
“That’s what I think too. She’s an incredible girl and I’m just …” She touches her chest. “Just thank you for coming tonight. I hope we can have dinner soon.”
“I would love that,” I lie. “But I’ll be going back to school soon. I need to finish my education so I can be worthy of your daughter.”
Larissa pinches my hip and I try not to laugh.
Trista beams. She looks over our head and waves at someone. “If you two will excuse me, I need to say hello to Petra. But we will have a dance later, Hollis. Mark my words.”
“Absolutely,” I tell her. “I can’t wait.”
“I’ll find you soon,” she tells me before disappearing into the throng of people.
Once she’s gone, I spin Larissa around to face me. She’s beaming as she gazes up at me, and I feel a hint of pride that maybe she’s proud to have me here.
“I think that went well,” I say, feeling her out.
She tilts her head back and laughs. “You think?”
“I think so. I just hope it went well enough that your mom bought it hook, line, and sinker and doesn’t try to set you up with someone else. Because, unlike Jacky boy, I can take a hit, and I can deliver one even better.”
She rests a hand on my chest again. “You did great with my mom. Nailed it.”
I shrug. “Did you doubt me?”
She laughs. “No. Not really.”
“I can charm anyone.”
She raises her chin. “Do you think you’ve charmed me?”
“Maybe.”
I hope so.
She looks around the room. I can tell she’s considering her answer because lines appear between her eyes. I think they’re adorable but know from experience never to mention shit like that. Women don’t think it’s as cute.
“What would I have to do to charm you more?” I ask.
She grins. “You’ve done just fine. Don’t lose any sleep over it.”
A man dressed in a gray suit with a lavender shirt stops at Larissa’s side. They speak easily. By the time she introduces me, white noise screams in my ears, and I miss his name.
It’s not like it matters. He was wholly unimpressive.
“Did your mom send him over here?” I ask.
“Hollis Hudson, are you jealous?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Nope. Don’t lose any sleep over it.”
She laughs loudly and freely.
“Is it wrong that I don’t like some pudfucker coming by and hitting on my girl?” I ask.
I use the term without thinking.
She doesn’t miss it.
“Your girl?” she asks, raising a brow.
“For tonight, anyway.”
We watch each other closely. Somehow, using that term shifts the energy between us.
She turns her body to face me. “You know what I told Bells before I came here?”
“No.”
“I told her I’d trust my gut.”
I nod. “Sounds like a solid plan.”
She presses her lips together. “Well, my gut tells me we should put a stamp on our fake relationship, so everyone here knows I’m taken.” She looks up at me through those damn lashes again. “Because I would hate for you to get in a fight over me.”
Instantly, my cock strains against my pants.
I wrap an arm around her back and pull her into me. She doesn’t fight it, doesn’t resist at all. In fact, she leans against me and brings one arm lazily over my shoulder.
I’m fairly certain that it would always feel like a level of heaven to have her—a woman so beautiful and funny and smart and classy—up against me.
But we aren’t in a frat house or a bar or even at a place that I invited her to like last night.
We are here—with her people. People with money and class.
People I don’t associate with much because I’m the poor college kid who barely scrapes by.
To have her in my arms is amazing. But to have her willingly in my arms in this situation? It’s another fucking level.
I grin. “Sweetheart, you're going to need to define what put a stamp on it means to you because the definition going through my head might get the police called for public indecency.”
She sways back and forth just enough so that her body rubs against my groin. I think it's by accident, but the twist of her lips tells me it wasn't.
“I’m warning you,” I tell her.
“Warnings are for chumps.”
I chuckle. “Is that so?”
“People only issue warnings if they don't want to have to follow through.” She shrugs cockily. “I don't know what you're warning me about, Hollis, but I hope it doesn't mean that you're taking options off the table.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“Are you goading me?” I ask her, surprised. “Because you don't know who you're fucking with, and you just might be out of your league, little lady.”
She runs her fingers against my lapel again. “You know what I think about you?”
“No, but I'd love to.”
“I think you're all talk and no action.”
I stare at her dumbfounded. “Aren't you the girl who was telling me how you have this problem with guys like me?”
She nods. “I do have a problem with guys like you. I like you,” she says, annunciating each syllable clearly. “But you, specifically, I have a definite problem with.”
I lock my other hand at the small of her back and pull her into me even closer. The half an inch that was between us a moment ago is gone.
“Please, tell me. What is your definite problem with me?” I tease.
“I always end up in terrible relationships with guys like you,” she says slowly.
“I don't know if it's the athlete part of it that's the problem or if it's the way that I interact with them, but me getting involved with guys that play sports—or work in the sports field, for that matter—is a no-go. Flat-out. But you, Mr. Hudson, are a special kind of trouble.”
I'm not sure if we're still playing here. Is someone watching, and we're supposed to be making a show of being an item so they leave her alone? I don’t know, but I'm going to roll with this to see.
If she wants me to act like I’ll fuck her, I will.
And if she wants me to actually fuck her, I'll do that too.
She’s sexy as fuck, and I’m horny as hell. And have been since the first time she looked up and into my eyes.
“I've been called troubled before,” I admit, playing along. “By lots and lots of people.”
“I can see why,” she says, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck.
The contact makes me crazy. The weight of her hand on the sensitive skin of the back of my neck heats my blood and makes me shiver at the same time.
My pulse kicks into overdrive. My body almost trembles as I stare into her hooded eyes.
“You pose a different sort of problem for me,” she says.
I'm trying to stay calm and let her work out whatever this is. But with every brush of her fingertip and every sway of her hip, I find it harder and harder to be patient.
“What kind of problem?” I ask.
“Well, I had sworn off guys,” she says, “but really, I swore off relationships with guys.”
“So, a relationship with girls is okay?”
She silences me with a look.
“Sorry. Continue,” I tell her, enjoying the feeling of having her in my arms.
“I can't really have a relationship with you, now can I?” she asks. “Because you’re going home in a few days. Our relationship pact expires tonight. I'm not going to run into you or find myself in precarious situations with you all winter, now am I?”
“Nope.”
“So …” She brushes against me again. This time, there is absolutely no possibility that it was anything but intentional. “What could it hurt if we... indulged in this little charade we have going on and ended it on a high note?”
She stills. Her bottom lip goes between her teeth as she gazes up at me like a little vixen that I thought she wasn't.
I can feel every beat of my heart pound against my rib cage. I'm aware of every shallow breath she takes as she awaits my reaction.
I'm also acutely aware of how bad I want to be inside her little body right fucking now.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other to get rid of some of the energy building inside me.
“You're playing a dangerous game,” I tell her.
“And why is that?”
I run my nose down the side of her cheek. She holds her breath as I smile against her skin. It’s pure torture for me, but she deserves a little payback since her touches have been driving me insane for a while now.
“Because if you don't stop,” I say, lowering my voice, “I will find a place, and I will fuck you. Hard.”
She tries to stay composed, but her eyes give her away. Her pupils dilate as my words sink into her brain.
Finally, her head tilts to the side, and she grins.
“What are you waiting for?” she asks, the words coming out in a rasp.
Game on.