Chapter 9 #3
I’m not good at this part. The casual talk about traumatic pasts, or sad things. It’s not an easy conversation to have even with someone you’re incredibly close with already, but I’m just learning to be close with Bellamy. I’m just starting this journey of being more than an occasional friend.
“We got a call when they were away. I remember not believing it at first. I forgot every day and would wait for them to come home from their work trip, but they couldn’t.
It was really… It was really hard. It’s not something anyone ever should have to go through.
I just knew I had to be there for my sister, and that’s what I did. ”
His face changes when he talks about his sister.
“You two are close?” I ask, knowing he’s told me small things about her before now, but nothing crazy.
“She’s my best friend, and I’m hers. I went to therapy with her.
We went to sessions together, and I did sessions on my own as well.
She’s still in therapy to this day, I don’t know if she’ll ever stop.
I got more time with my parents than she did though so I…
I don’t get it but I do at the same time,” He explains, and I nod.
I don’t know what I would do if something happened to my parents. My heart hurts for both of them.
“At least the two of you had each other,” I add.
“I was about to quit football. The season was going to start, and I couldn’t imagine playing without my parents being there.
I remember getting sick to my stomach at the thought of playing the sport, and still loving it when the people who made me love it weren’t there anymore.
Bri was the only reason I kept going. She asked who she was supposed to cheer for if not for me, and we helped each other through that.
It’s been a long time, and we’ll never get over it, but we’re stronger because of it I think.
We’re as close as we are because of it too.
I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if anything happened to Bri,” He explains, and I fight the urge to let my lip pout at how sweet, and heart filled his words are.
“I’d love to meet her one day…” I don’t know why I say it.
Mostly because that’s only a thing real couples do, and we are anything but a real couple. I have no reason to meet his sister. Not in the slightest.
“She’d jump for joy if I brought a friend over that wasn’t a guy,” He laughs, defusing the situation for me, and I could kiss him just for that.
He’s good at doing that. Easing things, and relieving tension. I, on the other hand, am the one who creates that tension.
“Your parents would be proud of you. Proud of all the stuff you’ve accomplished in college,” I know my words probably don’t have weight considering how new all of this is between us, but I hope it’s decently good to hear.
I hope it lifts something inside of him because he’s too kind to feel this kind of hurt. I wish he didn’t have to.
“I always imagine how happy they’d be to see how… Not to sound full of myself, but how good I am on the field now compared to how I was back then.”
I shake my head at his words and instantly jump into the conversation.
“You don’t sound full of yourself. Your stats this year were absolutely insane Bell, and besides that.
You threw a perfect touchdown pass every single game.
Your year to year stability within the team is what keeps the group together I think.
Since your freshman year, you’ve outshined every… ” I trail off when my eyes catch his.
They are lit up, bright like a Christmas tree.
“Sorry,” I stop myself, feeling my cheeks heat up.
So I’m a football fangirl. I like to know my shit when it comes to the team I’ve looked up to since I was a sophomore in high school.
“You’re so adorable when you talk football stats to me. You know more about my stats than I do, don’t you?”
I shrug in response to his question, “I just like to keep up with it. I kept up with you guys, all the important players, watching for injuries, or tendencies so when I hopefully work with you guys I’ll already be ahead.”
I tell him the truth, knowing I’ve been to every game since freshman year, and watched the ones on TV that were away games.
“You’ve always wanted to come here? To Seattle Pike?” He asks, and I shrug.
“Since my dad and I bonded over football so much growing up, and my mom was a fan too, they got my tickets to see a game back when I was in high school. I fell in love with the campus, and the energy within our stadium. It was all I could think about for weeks, and I knew I wanted to come here. I got a scholarship, and it paid for almost everything so here I am. Younger me would be proud,” I smile to myself, and Bellamy is smiling as well.
“Your love for the sport makes you so much hotter,” He ruins the cute moment between us, and I roll my eyes, my smile not leaving my face.
“You’re gross,” I laugh, finishing off my food, and pushing it in front of me.
I like his so called gross banter though, it makes my stomach heat up. I’ll never tell him that though.
“I’m charming, not gross… Now we move on to dessert,” He tells me, stealing my plate from in front of me the second I’m finished.
“Hey! I can clean off my plate myself,” I tell him, hating the thought of someone cleaning up after me.
“How do you feel about brownies?” He asks me, ignoring my protests with my plate in his hand.
“Brownies sound delightful. Why don’t you get the stuff to make them while I clean off our plates?” I ask him, and surprisingly, he doesn’t argue.
He passes by me, his skin brushing mine, making every hair on my body stand up. I wish I had control of myself. I obviously have enough considering I haven’t started taking his clothes off yet, but still. My body doesn’t know what’s going on. Neither do I if I’m honest.
There’s so much desire built up, and I have no idea what’s going on inside his head. Does he have the same reaction? Does he want me, or does he just want to complete the list?
“Why did you want to do this with me?” I ask, moving the sponge over the plates, hand cleaning them instead of putting them in the dishwasher right away, distracting myself, but also being thorough.
“The list?” He asks from behind me.
“Yeah,” My eyes are on the dish, not him.
“I don’t know. You’re fun to be around, and it gives me good ideas for the future I guess... And you’ve tutored me all semester, and I never got to repay you for helping me pass.”
I smirk to myself, knowing he can’t see my face right now.
“You know the student center pays me to tutor you, right?”
“That’s them, not me.”
“Well, I would’ve taken payment in cash, check, Venmo, or Paypal,” I joke.
“Payment in orgasms is better, don’t you think?”
I choke on quite literally nothing. The air in my lungs ceases to exist at the statement I didn’t expect to come from him.
“That’s a pretty confident statement,” I finally turn around to face him.
He’s standing there, his back turned to me. He’s in the process of getting everything situated to make brownies.
“I’m fully aware of that... And my capabilities.”
I feel my cheeks heat.
“Are you going to help me, or keep staring at my ass?”
My jaw drops, “Your ass doesn’t even look good in sweatpants, don’t get a big head,” I invade his space now, coming close to him.
“I already have a big head Ryn. I’m the star quarterback… Remember?” My eyes roll at his not so subtle narcissism.
I steal the bag of brownie mix from him, ripping it open with my teeth. I pour the bag into a big mixing bowl, a puff of brownie dust coming up around my face. Bellamy stands incredibly close to me, cracking eggs, and pouring ingredients into the bowl.
“Do you have a whisk?”
He opens the drawer, passing me what I asked for.
“Of course I have a whisk,” He leans back on the counter, and I hold the bowl in my hands, and start whisking the contents. “You’re not doing it right,” He pushes himself from the counter.
“I’m mixing brownie batter, how could I be doing it wrong?”
He’s got a boyish grin on his pretty face as he moves forward toward me. He puts his hands over mine and starts moving my hands, whisking the contents harder, and faster.
“You have to put a little elbow grease in there.”
Brownie batter starts going everywhere but the bowl, the splatter hitting not only the counter but me too.
“Bellamy!” I yell, unable to take my hands from his, or stop the movements he’s creating. “You’re making a mess!” I laugh now, watching the smirk on his lips turn into a smile.
I move back, and turn away from him, realizing that he had no intentions of actually making brownies. I think back to the list. Cute kitchen food fight where we cook together. This was on the list. And although I made it, I seem to forget that’s what we’re doing.
I put my hand in the bowl, and turn, reaching up to his face.
I smear batter on his cheek, and down to his jaw.
He just stares at me, his pretty bright eyes completely amused right now as he stares.
I wait for him to make a move, knowing he has a full advantage over me.
He moves quickly, taking an egg from the open carton and smashing it right on top of my head.
My jaw drops. My glare burns through him.
“You asked for this,” He tells me, and the war starts, both of us slinging batter and whatever else we can get our hands on.
The kitchen turns into a mess quickly, and so do Bellamy and I. I can’t hear anything over our laughter, but it all goes still the second he pulls me to him by my lower back. I’m once again pressed to his hard chest, he’s got brownie batter coating his cheeks as he stares down at me.
“You’ve got a little something... There,” I motion to his whole face and watch a slow smile hit his features.
He’s the most attractive when he smiles.
Because his smiles are always genuine. When he smiles it makes me feel like I’m getting punched in the stomach because I don’t think I’ve seen anything more purely perfect than his smile.
I’ve got a thing for boys with pretty smiles, and Bellamy’s is the prettiest.
“You too...” He takes his pointer finger and swipes my cheek, collecting batter.
He brings his finger down to my lips and I take the batter, my lips curling around his finger. I watch his face change instantly, and I internally groan at the way he grips my jaw, just the same as before. He kisses me quick, not the same as last time, but still just as hard, and full.
He pulls away, and runs his tongue over his lips, “You taste like chocolate.”
“I wonder why.”
He releases me. I look down at myself, my white shorts ruined, his clothes stained too.
“Dear god if anyone passes me while I walk home I’m going to get so many stares,” I laugh to myself.
“Yeah, you’re not walking home this late.
.. You can shower here. I’ll drive you home,” He tells me, nodding his head behind me.
“Come on,” He starts walking, and normally I would protest, but my clothes are covered in brownie mix, there’s a cracked egg in my hair, and I don’t want to be like this any longer than I have to.
That was a cute idea for the list, but I never intended to do it. They never show the cleanup in the movies. At least it wasn’t my kitchen.
“I’ll help you clean up and then-”
“Don’t worry about it... Here,” He opens a door that’s right past the living room, and I realize now it’s his bedroom.
He has a nice bed, a giant bed that probably feels like the softest cloud in the world.
Everything is simple, dark gray sheets, and a white comforter.
His bed is made, and his room is decently clean, football jerseys framed on the walls, and photos on his nightstand I can’t quite see from where I am.
He has a giant mirror in the corner of his room that reaches the floor, and a TV mounted on the wall across from his bed.
Under that is a dresser, and a pile of shoes next to that. It’s lived in, but still clean.
“I want to help you clean up,” I tell him, and he turns to the left, going to the dresser.
“How about you stop worrying and take a shower?” He asks and hands me a shirt and sweatpants. “Change into this. There are clean towels under the sink and on the rack.”
He walks around me and to the bathroom. He opens the door, and flips on the light, revealing a pretty big bathroom for an apartment.
It’s the same color scheme as his bedroom, gray white and blue and it’s just as clean.
I don’t know why cleanliness is such a shock to me.
.. I guess I’ve been in far too many frat houses.
“Thank you,” I walk in, and turn over my shoulder to look at him. He’s leaning against the doorway now, his eyes set on me.
“If you need anything you can just yell. I’m going to change too,” He tells me, nodding his head. He doesn’t close the door, he just narrows the view a bit.
I leave it open, knowing just what I’m doing.
I lean into the shower, turning the water all the way up to the hottest setting it can go.
I look in the mirror, a perfect view of his bedroom, and him now.
He’s removing his shirt, and I’m doing the same.
I remove my shorts too, and he’s looking back now, his eyes set on the bathroom, looking into the mirror at my reflection.
His eyes are bright and lit up. I smirk as I reach around, removing my bra too, not showing him anything but my naked back.
He knows I know he’s watching me, he’s looking into my eyes now.
“Enjoying the show?” I ask.
“I’m enjoying the fact that you're comfortable enough with me to have a show at all,” He calls out to me.
I get a good look at his carved chest, the perfect muscles, his tattoo that I could look at for hours, and the sculpture of his body that I know he’s spent a lot of time perfecting.
I slide my underwear down my bare legs and pull the shower curtain back, a smirk on my lips.
I don’t have him in my sight right now, but I am imagining him, every muscle of his in my mind as I step into his shower.
Tonight has been… Interesting, and very eye opening to just how attractive Bellamy Archer is…
I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a deep want for someone physically but right now I can feel it burning through my stomach.