Chapter 44 Brighton
“Did you see the girls won their game?” Boone chucks the ball at me, and I pocket it without looking as I stretch my thighs in the grass.
“Yeah, they’re top of the league now.” I lean forward and roll the ball out in front of me. “They have a real shot of taking it all this year.”
“Maybe then people will start paying attention to them,” he says, and joins me to stretch. When he comes eye level, his head angles to the side, and his eyes narrow on me.
“What?” I snap.
“Something's different.” He stares at me, rolling over in the turf so he’s on his knees, and he can stretch out his groin.
“Nothing’s different.” I move into the grass on my back and start to warm up my hips. Boone doesn’t take that answer, though; he keeps inspecting me like he’s going to find something physically wrong with me. “Can you fuck off?” I groan as my hip pops.
“Lovey,” he calls, “come here.”
Judd jogs over toward us, his hair cut shorter now that he’s back on duty full-time. He looks between the two of us with a brow raised. “What?”
“Tell me you see it?” Boone points to me as Judd sinks into a squat.
They look like idiots, heads tilted, eyes narrowed.
“You’re not going to find anything,” I grumble.
“He got laid,” Judd says, a wicked smile forming on his face, and Boone lights up like a Christmas tree.
“I did not.” I shake my head. Not yet. But damn does she make it hard to take things slow. All I can think about is how good it felt to have her in my lap.
“You did!” Boone snaps his fingers at me. “It was Reaper, wasn’t it? Took you long enough.”
“I didn’t sleep with Rhea, shut up.” I stare him down, but he’s riled up today and looking for buttons to push.
“Oh, now it’s Rhea…” Boone sings her name, and Judd whistles. “So what did happen then?” They’re both watching me like I’m about to reveal some massive secret.
“There’s been… kissing,” I admit, and both of them start laughing at me.
“That’s it? That’s what you’re hiding from us? Kissing!” Judd’s accent is thick and breathy as he doubles over on his side. “Mate, you could have lied. We’d be none the wiser.”
“Why would I lie?” I say, completely unimpressed.
“Was it good?” Boone asks next.
“It’s none of your business, is what it was.
” I push off the ground as the ref blows the whistle to get the game started.
Boone continues to broach the subject at every chance he gets, between whistles, at half, all through us getting our asses kicked in the second.
I skipped my shower to avoid him, but he was waiting outside for me, ready for more fighting that carried on into the parking lot. I told him Judd could drive him home.
I had somewhere to be.
The Hollow is busy tonight, and after the rough game, I’m looking forward to a long shower and an even longer sleep.
I adjust my bag as I push through the crowd toward the stairs.
Sunday waves to me from behind the bar before turning back to customers with a smile on her face.
Everything is alright. For once. Try not to ruin it.
I push open the door and drop my bag on the floor with an echoing thud before raising my eyes to see Rhea sitting on the counter in one of her silly wrestling shirts, eating ice cream out of my container of vanilla.
“That’s mine.” I cross my arms, and she looks up at me with the spoon between her lips.
“You’re going to have to be more specific, Brighton,” she teases as I stride forward, kicking off my shoes as I go.
“Uh oh, he didn’t put his sneakers away properly, I’m in trouble now,” she giggles, watching the clumsy execution.
My adrenaline is still pumping from the game, and there’s something about a good workout that goes straight to my head.
“You’re not going to do three loads of laundry before bed? ”
“Nope.” I shake my head and slot myself between her legs. “I’m starving.”
She digs out a spoonful of ice cream and holds it out to me. It melts on my tongue, and I don’t take my eyes off her perfect face for a second. My chest squeezes at her soft smile as the spoon retreats, and she digs more out of the carton.
Is this what it feels like to be friends who kiss?
“How was your game?” she asks quietly.
“We got our asses kicked by the Cubs,” I tell her, and she pouts.
“They’re a tough team. You know if you switch up—”
“Coach me on rugby in the morning,” I stop her and tap her wrist to get more ice cream.
“Oh, did you have other plans I wasn’t aware of?” Rhea looks around with a phony confused look on her face. The ice cream on her spoon melts between us, and before I can get my mouth around the spoon, it drops onto her thigh, making her flinch from the sudden cold.
“Yeah,” I slide her forward on the island, and my hands find her ass. She goes completely still as I dip down, running my tongue up her inner thigh to catch the drip, then I close my mouth around the rest of the spill. She inhales deeply and slowly as I pull back. “I did.”
Her face changes when she realizes what I’m suggesting, her surprise evident.
“Put the ice cream down, please,” I say. I can be a thousand things for Rhea Drake, but a man who allows melting dairy products in his bed is not one of them.
“Okay.” She sets it down beside her on the counter, the spoon dangling from her lips as I pull her off the island and over my shoulder in one swift movement. She yelps from the contact, and I turn her toward the sink.
“Leave the spoon.” A second later, it clatters into the sink. “Thank you.”
“You don’t want to wash it twice?” She teases, and I dig my fingers into her thigh. “I just don’t want you thinking about that dirty spoon all—”
The teasing is cut short when I drop her on the bathroom counter and back away to run the shower. She leans back on the palms of her hands, and the hem of the shirt she’s wearing rides up around her thighs as she watches me grab a clean towel.
I hear the tiny groan from her lips as I pull the sweaty shirt off and she leans over the counter to pop the lid of the basket for me, knowing that tossing it on the floor isn’t an option, but it gives me a full view of the tiny boyshorts she’s wearing. Fuck me.
“Do friends watch each other shower?” She asks me as I strip from my sweat pants and throw them in the same place.
“I don’t know, you’re the one whose friends have no boundaries,” I smile at her, giving her full control of the situation. Her focus is elsewhere, and if I were a more modest man, I’d be blushing, but her eyes inspecting every dirty inch of skin only fuels the fire in the pit of my stomach.
“I—” she opens her mouth and closes it.
“Cat got your tongue?” I tease and step forward, my fingers ghosting the bottom of her shirt.
“Bear,” she chokes out with a smile.
“How about we make an exception?” I ask her.
“Yeah, just this one time…” Her words trail off again as my lips find the base of her neck.
“Friends can totally help friends shower,” she mumbles as I lift the hem over her stomach.
“I can…I can wash those stubborn spots on your back—” Every word is muffled or stuttered from her lips, but she lifts her arms and lets me remove her shirt.
“Does this hurt?” She asks me, and I angle my face down to look at the bruise forming on my shoulder that she’s focused on.
“No.” I shake my head and go back to kissing her skin. Her fingers find my skin as my lips find her collarbone. The shower long forgotten, the bathroom fills with steam as my hands dig into her back and pull her against my chest.
“The water's going to get cold,” she teases breathlessly.
I let out a low chuckle against her neck, “whose fault is that?” My hand trails down her sides as I continue to find places void of kisses. “You keep your hands to yourself, Hellcat,” I warn as I step back and push down my boxers.
“Follow your own rules.” She sticks her tongue out at me and follows suit, climbing into the shower after me.
I turn around and pull her into me, pressing her back against the cold tiles as the lukewarm water beats down on my shoulders. “I’m trying to be a good friend.” My hands cup her jaw, and I tilt her face up to meet mine in a deep kiss. “But you’re making it really hard.”
Rhea giggles against my lips, and my whole body goes stiff from the sound.
“See what you’re doing to me?” I whisper against her ear, my hands sliding down over her curves. “I pride myself on my control, Rhea.” I turn her around gently, pressing against her back so she’s under the water.
“Self-control is lame,” she scoffs, leaning back against me as my hands rake over the soft skin on her stomach.
“It’s necessary around you.” My hands slip down to her hips as my teeth gently graze her shoulder.
“Not tonight.” She presses back against me, melting our bodies together under the water. My breath catches as I wrap my arms around her, hands sliding up to her chest.
“You’re distracting me from getting clean.
” My fingers play with one of her hardened nipples, and she turns to a dead weight in my arms as her body relaxes.
“Turn around.” I softly demand. I take my time with the soap, first Rhea and then myself.
Making sure that I cover every inch of her skin and her patience kills me.
“Lift your arms,” I command, trying to maintain my composure despite the hardened pain between my legs.
“Thank you,” she says, clearly trying to behave until I’m finished.
I pull back from her because everything is suddenly very real and very warm.
The adrenaline from the game is wearing off, and I realize how idiotic I’m being with her.
Rushing around and thinking with your dick got you in too much trouble the first time.