Chapter 29
Sam
IT’S ANOTHER WEEK before I can stop inwardly cringing when I see Kari. Not because I’m embarrassed, but because I’m furious with her. And myself, for not standing up to her sooner.
And, fine, I might be a little embarrassed. But that doesn’t give her the right to act all high and mighty with me. None of this is easy, and all I want is for someone to tell me it’s going to be okay. Even if it’s not.
My phone dings with a text from Elodie.
I miss you. Come over after work?
I consider for the briefest of seconds.
Absolutely. Can I bring anything?
Just yourself. Should I ask Ansel to bring you home?
If he doesn’t mind, sure!
See you soon!
After an endless pile of paperwork that I’ve been avoiding, I make my way up to the pitch to see how practice is going.
Colin spies me instantly, and my gaze snags on him.
He’s in his standard khakis and light jacket, seemingly unbothered by the late February weather that has me bundled in a scarf and winter coat.
He’s wearing a hat and sunglasses, whistle dangling lazily from his mouth.
It drops the second I wink at him, having already confirmed that no one is looking my way.
I swear his cheeks redden, but it could just be the weather. He turns away, bringing the whistle back to his lips and blowing it in one sharp, clear chirp. “Bring it in!”
The players jog across the pitch, some with a bit more enthusiasm than others, most of them giving me a wave as they circle around Colin.
I smile and wave at all of them, grateful for the weak winter sun’s bit of warmth.
I’m still not quite used to these months being cold.
If I were back home in Melbourne, I’d be in the thick of summer, lounging in the sun every chance I got.
Instead, I’m struggling not to shiver in the thick jacket I’m wearing.
Colin and the other coaches finish up and the players stream by me. When Ansel approaches, I fall into place beside him as he glances over.
“Have I been assigned to something I’m not yet aware of?” he asks, a grin on his bearded face.
I smile back. “You’re giving me a ride to your house.”
His grin widens. “Yeah? That’s good. Elodie’s been wanting to get you girls together.”
My breath catches. “Girls?”
“You, Kari, Allyson,” he answers, utterly oblivious to my rising…well, I don’t even know.
“Let me grab my stuff and we’ll head home. Unless you want me to shower?”
I force a smile. “Nah. I’m used to sweaty ruggers.”
He laughs. “I’m sure you are.”
We’re at his and Elodie’s place in half an hour. As he turns the engine off, I look over. “You know, you’re the first person in this country who I haven’t felt like I’m going to die riding with.”
His eyebrows rise. “Um, thank you?”
I nod. “It’s a compliment. I assure you.”
“C’mon,” he says as he slides out of his SUV. “I’m sure your nose would rather not be stuck in this vehicle with me.”
I half expect Allyson and Kari to pop up from behind the island when I find Elodie in her cozy kitchen, but it’s just her. I breathe a sigh of relief as I say hello.
Elodie rounds the island and wraps me in a hug, her soft curves a balm against my frazzled state. When she pulls away, she keeps my hands in hers as she studies me thoughtfully. “I thought so.”
I bite my lip. “Thought what, exactly?”
She gives me a sad smile. “That Kari was probably doing a number on you.”
I swallow hard and squeeze her hands, blinking rapidly at the unexpected kindness.
“Oh, honey,” she coos. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
“No.” But my bravado fails miserably and my voice wavers. “It’s fine. Really.”
She gathers me back into another hug and keeps me there. I sink into it, needing the comfort and missing my mum so badly it takes my breath away. In any other situation, Kari would be the one I turn to. But now?
“What can I do?” Elodie asks. “Want me to punch her?”
I sniffle and laugh, giving Elodie one last squeeze before releasing her and sliding onto the stool. “No. But a hard shake wouldn’t be unwelcome.”
She laughs in solidarity. “Listen. We all know she’s a hard ass.”
I snort at Elodie’s choice of words. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“But she means well,” Elodie finishes. “She’s looking out for you, even if it may not exactly feel like it.”
I blow the tendrils out of my face. “Maybe. But all it really feels like is she’s forgotten she’s my best friend in this country.
” Best friend, full stop. Not that it’s felt like it lately, and truthfully, that’s what’s made this whole fight with her so much worse.
I miss her. I miss her snark, her bite, and the way she pulls absolutely zero punches.
I just never realized how much it’d hurt to be on the opposite side of her.
Elodie pulls out two soda waters, one lime-flavored and another grapefruit-flavored. “Which one do you want?”
I point to the grapefruit and she slides it my way.
“Tell me everything,” she commands.
An hour and two grapefruit soda waters later, I’m an emotional wreck. Elodie sent Ansel and his daughter out to grab pizza, then banished them to the kitchen while she dragged me and slices for us out to the patio, where she turned on the gas fire pit.
I’m every bit as raw as the air is cold, and I know I shouldn’t want to, but even after spilling my secrets to Elodie, all I want to do is go to Colin.
“You want to see him, don’t you?” she asks, her eyes bright with understanding in the firelight.
I nod, not at all surprised that she caught that. “I shouldn’t. I’m nothing but a dirty secret.”
She reaches her hand toward mine. “You’re no such thing.”
I scoff. “I am. He wants me, but only at his house. Never mine, because my brother might see his car.”
Elodie frowns. “I don’t believe that’s all you are to him, Sam.”
I look away, focusing on the barren trees in the backyard. The darkening sky is covered with gray clouds, the already-weak daylight fading fast. “I’m pretty sure I am.”
She sighs. “Well, I am aggressively optimistic, according to Allyson.”
A laugh bubbles out of me as I stand. “That you are. I should go. Thank you for…everything.”
Elodie pushes the blanket off and stands, pulling me into another hug and wrapping her arms tight around me.
I melt immediately. “You could charge for these,” I murmur into her shoulder.
She giggles. “My hugs? Pretty sure Ansel would not be a fan of that. Want me to drive you home?”
I shake my head and pull my phone out to hail a rideshare. “Nah. I’ll call a ride.”
And it’s stupid, but instead of putting in my apartment, I type in Colin’s.
Because despite everything, I want him. And when I knock, he’s there in seconds.
He opens the door and scoops me into his arms without a word, kicking the door closed and carrying me to the bedroom.
As we move through the house, something within me settles.
As though my body refuses to accept what my head already knows: Colin isn’t mine.
He might be my husband, but it’s not for long, and it’s certainly not forever.
The bedside lamp is on as he lays me down on the mattress, illuminating him in a dim, golden glow. He looks at me as though I’ve hung the moon, tender and loving.
“You came,” he whispers.
Without a word, I kick my shoes off and arch up to pull my shirt over my head. When I meet his eyes again, his expression hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s grown hungry, but the adoration remains front and center.
He stands before me, waiting to be commanded.
He always knows what I need without asking; always knows when to dominate, when to let me take the lead.
We move together like we’ve done it for years instead of months, so in tune to each other that entire conversations are had in a one-second look.
One hitch of a breath, and whole worlds of experience and love move between us.
And yet we never say it. Won’t dare broach it.
How, then, is this the same man who wants to keep me hidden?
And why am I okay with getting only these small scraps of him?
“Get undressed,” I say softly.
He obeys immediately, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing the chest I see in my dreams. It’s solid and thick, dusted with dark hair that angles down to a trail leading straight into the pants he shucks off as I watch.
His muscles tighten and release as he moves, pushing his boxers down and kneeling on the bed beside me.
I take him in shamelessly. His muscular thighs, the thickness of him, the way his hands curl into fists and clench and unclench before one of them moves to his cock and gives it a leisurely pump.
“Like what you see?” His voice is gruff, but tender.
“Always,” I answer.
He puts a knee on the mattress and leans down, his body blocking the light as he angles over me. I wrap my legs around his and push my hips up, relishing the hardness of him pressing and sliding against my aching center.
His mouth meets mine, sweet and searching at first but turning hot and scorching as our tongues meet in a groan.
His hand slides along my bare waist, gliding up to my sports bra and pushing a finger beneath the band.
Wordlessly, we break apart and he pulls it over my head, the move as practiced as if we’ve done it for years.
He nuzzles my neck, kissing his way down my chest until his lips close over a hyper-sensitive nipple. I gasp and arch into him, threading my hands through his silky strands and holding him against me.
He lavishes attention on the other breast before moving along my stomach, angling up on his knees to pull my leggings off.
“Lace,” he murmurs, meeting my eyes with an appreciative glance.
“Wanted to feel pretty.” The admission comes out without thought, and I wonder if maybe I shouldn’t have said it.
His eye darken. “You’re flawless, Sam. It doesn’t matter what you wear.” There’s a pause as he readjusts himself, leaning down so his mouth hovers over the lace. “But this?” He drags his tongue over the fabric, his eyes never leaving mine.
I shiver.
“I love you in this,” he murmurs, his tongue exploring the lace as I arch toward him. The sensation is maddening. It’s delicious but nowhere near enough, and squirming beneath him is of no use. He’s bigger than me.
He rises up and sits back on bent legs. “Lean against the headboard,” he commands. “Keep those on.”
I scoot up and position myself against the pillows, knowing exactly what he wants.
The white lace is almost too much against my overheated skin, and I feel every inch of the strings that bite into the flesh of my hips.
Even still, I spread my legs, giving him a full view of the way the triangle of fabric barely covers me.
“Beautiful,” he whispers, still kneeling at the other end of the bed.
I trace my hand down my stomach and pause over the lace.
“Yes,” he croaks. “Please.”
I run a finger over the seam of the panties. They’re soaked. A moan escapes me, and he groans in response. I push the fabric to the side.
“Fuck.” He draws the word out in a whisper.
I wait, holding the fabric and doing everything I can to be still.
“Touch yourself,” he says after a moment.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I press my middle finger to my flesh, dipping inside and then back out to swirl around my clit.
His gaze is pinned to the show, and it empowers me to do more, touching myself the same way I would if it were just me and no one was watching. My breathing hitches.
“Can you come like that?”
“With me,” I whisper, looking to his straining cock as he wraps a hand around it.
But he shakes his head. “I want to see you come. Please.”
My fingers speed up, swirling and pressing, my whole body flushing at the idea of what’s happening.
“Good,” he says, his voice deep and scratchy. “Just like that. Does it feel good, Sam? Do you want my fingers there instead? My cock?”
But the words are enough, and I come, waves of pleasure coursing through me as Colin watches, his hungry eyes missing nothing. The sight of him watching me seems to draw the orgasm out, wringing every bit of ecstasy out of me. Finally, I hiss out a curse and go limp on the mattress.
He studies me as he grabs my ankles to slide me down the mattress. He looks undone, wild and feral. When he speaks again, his voice is strained. “I need to taste you now. Please let me. Please.”
I can’t understand why he asks, because of course he can, but I nod anyway. Instantly his mouth, hot and wet, meets the lace of my panties. A finger pulls the fabric aside and he groans as his tongue flicks out.
I gasp, my sensitive flesh already primed for whatever he does next. “Oh my god,” I moan.
He yanks the panties down and I lift as he pulls them off, then settles back down, one arm wrapping around my leg as his mouth finds my clit. He worships me, bringing me to the edge. As my legs begin to shake, he stops, lifting his mouth off me.
I squirm and whimper, needing something, anything to soothe the ache. “Colin.”
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Sunshine,” he says, rising over me. His voice cracks.
I pull him to me, craving his weight on me and moaning as our mouths meet, tongues clashing. I taste myself on him. He grinds into me, his cock sliding against my slick pussy as he groans. “Fuck, Sam.”
“Please,” I murmur against his mouth, reaching between us to put him at my entrance. “I need you.”
He pushes in, my body taking him willingly, eagerly, the thickness of his cock inside me as familiar as my own body. It’s tight, it always is. “Baby,” he grits out, lowering his head and gasping.
My heart. “Colin,” I whisper.
He swirls his hips as we set a slow pace, and when he rises onto his elbow and uses his other hand to lift my knee higher, our eyes meet.
I see everything there. Words he can’t – or won’t – say. The same emotions that are mirrored in my own heart. The same fears and hopes. The same what-ifs.
I lick my lips and his eyes follow them, then meet mine once more. He swallows, and I think he’s going to speak, but then he lowers his head and kisses me. I’m transported back to that night on the dance floor, the memory crystal clear, the way I thought I’d never have a kiss like that again.
He thrusts in hard, and I lose my breath. “Colin,” I murmur. “Colin, Colin, Colin.”
“Fuck.” The word is strangled, tortured even. He squeezes his eyes shut and shudders, goosebumps erupting beneath my palms on his back.
He doesn’t stop. I study his face as I thread my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, taking his weight as he pushes into me over and over.
My head hits the headboard as it crashes against the wall, and my heart breaks when he moves his hand to cradle the crown of my head as he keeps fucking me.
His eyes stay shut.
And I don’t tell him to open them, because if I do, I’ll fall even harder than I already am.