Chapter 10 #2
“You okay?” I ask softly, because I’m not so sure she is.
She startles at my question, then nods, but there’s no mistaking the weariness in her eyes.
“Yeah, sorry. Just got a bit of a headache.”
“Want me to find you something for it?” I ask, already halfway out of my seat.
She grabs my arm, stopping me. “No, stay.”
I drop back into the chair as her fingers burn their way into my skin, and fuck if I haven’t missed her touch. She yanks her hand away when she notices she’s been holding on to me longer than necessary, flitting her eyes away and looking anywhere but at me.
“Sorry,” she mutters again.
I shake my head. “Nothing to be sorry for. Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Not even a water?”
“No, I’m good. I’m just tired.”
My brows pull together. “Not sleeping well at Hutch’s?”
She wiggles her hand back and forth. “So-so. Late hours at the bar, too. And early mornings, trying to find an apartment.”
“No luck?”
“Some luck, but not enough. It doesn’t help that I don’t really know what I’m looking for, you know? Or that I don’t know my way around the city just yet. Making a decision is hard when you’re unfamiliar with the area. People will tell you whatever you want to hear to make a quick buck.”
I want to offer to help her, but I have a feeling she’s going to say no anyway. This is something Nessa needs to do on her own, something she needs to prove to herself. I respect that about her. I know she’s been through a lot in the last year or so, and seeing her try to be so strong is admirable.
The same silence as before settles between us, and I have no idea how long we sit here.
I don’t bother checking the clock. I’m too busy watching her.
Even when she slips down farther into the chair, closing her eyes, I still watch.
Her breathing changes quickly, telling me she’s already fast asleep.
Guess she wasn’t kidding about that lack of sleep.
It worries me, seeing as we could still have a long night ahead of us until the baby comes.
“Locke.” I jump at my name, finally dragging my eyes away from Nessa to see Hutch staring at me with surprise. “I didn’t realize you were still here.”
“Didn’t know if you needed anything,” I explain, rising to my feet as Nessa begins to stir beside me. “Everything okay?”
Hutch nods. “Good so far. She’s dilated to a four, so it’s going to take some time still. Her heart rate is a bit low right now, so they’re monitoring it.”
“So, no baby yet?” Nessa asks, her voice groggy, and I hate how adorable I find it.
“Not yet. The nurse said we could be here for several more hours.”
“Do you want me to stay?” I ask.
“While I appreciate that so much, I’m okay.” He looks at Nessa. “That goes for you, too. No need for you to stay. I appreciate you bringing her in.”
“Oh my gosh, of course. But are you sure you don’t want us here?”
“I’m sure. I promise. Besides, I know you haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately, so there’s no reason for you to lose even more just sitting around here.”
Nessa stares at her brother like she’s shocked he’s even noticed.
“What?” Hutch shrugs. “I notice things.”
She smiles softly. “Well, if you’re sure…”
“I’m sure.” My captain looks at me. “Think you could give Nessa a lift home? Figured I’d keep the car for whenever it’s time to get out of here.”
“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. I can grab an Uber,” she says, pulling her phone from her purse.
Like hell she will.
But I can’t say that. That would be a huge red flag. It would raise so many questions, ones I don’t exactly have answers for right now.
“Uh, no. Locke will take you.”
“Reed, no, I?—”
“It’s not a big deal.” I cut her off, not just because I don’t want her in the back of some stranger’s car, but because I’m not ready to say goodbye to her yet.
She stares at me, mouth agape, and I have to look away before I do something stupid like reach over and touch her.
“See?” Hutch says pointedly to his sister, then turns to me. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it more than you know. You’re a good friend, Whitlocke.”
A good friend.
It’s three simple words, but they still sit so heavy in my gut.
A good friend wouldn’t have thought about making out with his friend’s sister just twenty minutes ago.
A good friend wouldn’t want to kiss a friend’s sister in a darkened hallway.
And a good friend certainly wouldn’t sleep with the sister and lie about it.
A good friend would be honest, even if it meant risking the friendship. I am not a good friend. Not by a long damn shot.
But I don’t say that to him. I can’t. Not today. Not when he’s about to get everything he’s ever wanted. Everything he deserves. I’ll come clean to him later, after more time has passed. Or maybe when I’m not still wanting to kiss his sister so damn badly.
“Yeah, sure. Any time,” I mutter, not really looking him in the eye.
I wait as they say goodbye and pretend I don’t overhear Nessa hissing at Hutch about offering her up to some stranger. I cringe when Hutch laughs and says, “Locke would never lay a finger on you.” If he only knew that not only did I already have my fingers all over her, but my mouth too.
Hutch gives me one last nod before he disappears back down the hall.
“I appreciate the offer, but I really can just grab an Uber,” Nessa insists as we step into the elevator.
I don’t even dignify that with a response.
“Hello?” she says, waving her hand in front of my face. “Did you hear me?”
“Oh, I heard you all right, love. I’m just ignoring you.”
She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine. Whatever.”
I grin at her petulance as the car stops on the next floor.
The doors open, and several more people file in, forcing Nessa closer to me.
I’m instantly overwhelmed with that familiar scent of lavender and wildflowers, and it takes everything I have not to reach over and nuzzle my nose against her neck just like I did all those months ago.
I clench my teeth when the elevator stops for a second time and even more people cram inside.
At this point, Nessa is so close against me that I feel like I’m at a middle school dance with her ass pressed against my crotch.
I will my body not to react, thinking of anything and everything else that I can to distract me from this torture.
I’m not the only one being tortured if the sudden hitch in her breath is any indication.
When the car stops for a third time, it’s rough, sending Nessa tumbling into me. I grip her waist to steady her, and I’m transported right back to our night in New York. Right back to tangled sheets, soft sighs, and whispered words. I inhale shakily, then exhale just the same.
It’s a fucking miracle I’m not hard as a rock right now. I don’t know how, especially since all I want to do in this moment is pull Nessa’s leggings down and bury my cock inside her, all these people be damned.
We finally reach ground level, and everyone starts to file out one by one. I’ve never been so damn grateful and annoyed all at once. Nessa steps away from me, and it’s all I can do to force myself to let her go, my hand sliding from her waist in a slow free fall.
We walk silently to my car, and I grab the door for her before she can get it. She’s careful to avoid my gaze as she hops into the SUV. When I slide behind the wheel, she already has her eyes closed, head resting against the window. Damn. She’s more tired than she let on.
I let her rest, navigating out of the lot.
I flick my blinker on to go right, but at the last minute, I decide to go left.
We barely make it to the first stoplight before she’s snoring softly beside me.
We drive like that for a while, me navigating the city while Nessa sleeps peacefully beside me.
It’s a miracle I don’t wreck with the number of times I’ve looked over at her.
I certainly get honked at for taking too long at green lights.
Twenty minutes later, I put the car into park, and Nessa finally stirs, her eyes blinking open softly.
She looks around, brow furrowed. “Where are we?”
“My place,” I answer, hopping out of the car before she can protest.
When I open her door, she’s already primed and ready to go, glaring over at me. “What the hell, Locke? Why are we here? I?—”
“Because you’re tired, Nessa. You fell asleep in the waiting room and in my car. You need to sleep and you’re not sleeping well where you currently are, so why not try somewhere else, eh?”
Her glare wavers for only a second, then it’s back again and she shakes her head. “No.”
“Why not? Do you have to work tomorrow?”
“Well, no. But?—”
“Then you’ll stay here. You’ll sleep as long as you like and you’ll leave whenever you want.”
“Gavin. No.”
“ Nessa. Yes.” I hold my hand out to her. “Come on. Out you go.”
She sighs but puts her hand in mine anyway. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re obstinate?”
“Only my mother,” I say with a grin, pulling her from the SUV.
She allows me to steer her into the building, and I wave to the security guy sitting near the elevator.
She whistles lowly. “Damn, this place must be fancy if you have security.”
“Fancy, no, but I’m not the only athlete that lives here.”
“Do other guys on the team live here?” she asks, panic lacing each word as we step into the elevator.
“Just one, but we don’t have to worry about him.”
She tilts her head to the side.
“Keller,” I explain.
“Oh.” She nods a few times. “I see. Has he, uh, said anything about…us?”
I shake my head, and she seems relieved by that. Truthfully, I am, too. I trust Keller though. Even though he’s still giving me the knowing looks, I know he’s not going to say anything to Hutch. That’s just not the kind of guy he is.
We’re quiet as the floors pass us by, but a new sense of awareness hangs between us.
I wasn’t even thinking about our past when I brought her here, or about anyone else seeing us together, for that matter.
All I could think of was finding her a place to sleep because I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone in Hutch’s big-ass house that she’s already struggling to be comfortable in.
I’m sure it’s nothing against him or Auden, but it has to be weird to be suddenly shacking up with the stepbrother you already have a strained relationship with. It’s clear Nessa didn’t think that part through when she came out here looking for a place to stay.
We reach my floor, and I guide us toward the door at the end of the hall. I punch my code in, then push the door open, moving aside to let her pass.
“After you,” I say.
She slips by me, making sure to slink as close to the other side of the doorway as she can so we don’t touch. There’s already been enough of that today.
“It’s not much,” I tell her as I slide my shoes off at the tray in the entryway. She sees me and does the same, and I pretend not to like the way her shoes look sitting there next to mine. I head for the kitchen, feeling her behind me, and open the fridge. “Are you hungry?”
“No, but I’d love something to drink.”
“Water, beer, wine, juice,” I offer. “I’m all out of amaretto sours.”
I wink at her, and she fights a smile as she settles onto one of the stools. “Water is fine.”
I slide her drink her way and grab a beer for myself, popping the top and taking a hearty swig.
“Ahh,” I say, smacking my lips as I settle against the counter.
“Good?” she asks.
“Nothing beats a cold beer after a game.”
“Oh, gosh. That’s right. I completely forgot you played tonight with the whole baby thing. How was it? Did you win?”
“We did. Sent Edmonton home crying into their helmets, which is a great confidence booster to start the season because they’re damn good at what they do.”
She takes a small drink. “Are you ready for the regular season?”
“Yes and no. You’d think after doing this for as many years as I have been, I’d be ready or have things down to a science.
But the game is always changing, you know?
There’s new talent. Guys get faster and stronger and come up with new ways to score goals.
So while I’m ready in the physical sense, I’m not quite there mentally.
Usually happens that way until we’re a few games into the season, then I’m locked in and nothing can distract me from the game I love. ”
She smiles softly. “I used to feel that way about painting.”
“Still feeling blank?”
“Maybe more than ever,” she mutters. “Which is just sad. What twenty-seven-year-old feels blank?”
Twenty-seven. Fuck, I almost forgot how young she is compared to me. There’s an eleven-year difference between us. That feels like a fucking lifetime…and another reason why nothing can happen.
I swallow down that dose of reality and say, “There’s nothing wrong with a blank canvas. It just means you’ve got plenty of room to work.”
She opens her mouth as if she’s about to argue, then thinks better of it. Instead, she yawns.
“Sorry,” she says, her voice dropping an octave.
I finish off my beer, drop the bottle into the recycling bin, and push off the counter. “Let’s get you to bed, huh?”
We both pause, and a wave of awkwardness crashes through the room.
I wince. “I just meant…” But I don’t finish the sentence.
Nessa chuckles. “It’s fine. I knew what you meant. Just give me a pillow and blanket and point me to the couch.”
I snort. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”
“Oh, do you have a spare bed, then?”
“No, you’re sleeping in my room.”