Chapter 50
CECILIA
Imake it four days before I’m no longer able to avoid Wyatt.
I’m honestly surprised I made it that long.
Willow casually asks me about the date at practice, and while the question is innocent enough, it feels like she’s phishing. Oh well. At least now I can put a face to her name.
I tell her it went fine but that I’m still dealing with some stuff in my past and am not really ready to see anyone in any sort of ongoing capacity. I gloss over my mini freak out in case her brother didn’t give her all the gory details. Fingers crossed there.
But I assure her that Wyatt was really nice and that we had a good time. I’m not harboring any bad feelings toward him, regardless of how the night ended. None of it was really his fault.
Willow seems to accept my response, not digging any further than what I willingly offer. I figure she’ll probably pass my responses on to her brother and that will be that.
I was wrong.
Wyatt shows up at our practices just like before, but he’s always gone by the time I get out of the locker room. I might linger for an extra couple of minutes while gathering my things, but it’s not specifically to avoid him.
Gabriel’s practice usually ends around the same time as mine, and lately, we’ve been indulging in ... extracurricular activities together.
My cheeks heat just thinking about the things we did this morning. It might be getting out of hand. But damn, I can’t help it. This friends with benefits thing is almost a week in and I’m not finding any downside. Not yet, at least.
“You ready for our meet this weekend?” Adriana asks as we head out the door.
“Definitely,” I tell her. It’ll be my first competition, and the anticipation is killing me. We’re traveling to Sun Valley to compete against Suncrest U, and I couldn’t be more excited. “You?”
The question has barely left my mouth when my feet come to a sudden stop.
“Wyatt?”
Pushing off of his truck, his long strides eat up the space between us until he’s standing right in front of me. My eyes flick to the truck again, spotting Willow in the front.
She gives me an apologetic shrug before turning around in her seat.
“Damn,” Adriana murmurs, “We took our sweet ass time. He must really want to talk to you.” She rocks back on her feet.
“You’re not helping,” I hiss, feeling my cheeks heat up.
Swallowing hard, I turn back to Wyatt. Pretty sure he caught all of that.
“Um, hi.”
“Hey,” he says, raising his hand in a small wave.
We stand there in the parking lot, neither one of us saying anything else.
“Well, this isn’t awkward,” Adriana adds.
I glare at her. “Not helping,” I repeat.
Her lips twitch, and her eyes look out toward the field. “Incoming,” she offers, and I follow her gaze.
Gabriel spots us and starts cutting across the field. Panic grips me. “Shit,” I mutter under my breath. My stomach jumps into my throat.
“So, um, what’s up?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
Wyatt offers me a small grin, oblivious to my rising anxiety. “I just thought we should talk. I feel kinda shitty about how things ended on our date.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him, needing him to say his piece and go fast and far away. “I had a good time.”
“Yeah?” His expression brightens with hope.
Uh oh. That isn’t my intention, but I’m also not trying to be a bitch.
“Yeah,” I confirm. “I think it’s just too soon for me to do the whole dating thing, obviously.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
His expression softens, and I see a look of pity on his face. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t know about that. If I did, I never—”
“Time’s up,” Adriana interjects.
“Is there a problem?” The sound of Gabriel’s gravelly voice sends shivers racing down my spine.
Wyatt’s head snaps toward him, and I don’t need to look over my shoulder to know Gabriel is standing right behind me. I can feel the heat radiating from him, seeping into my back.
“Hey man, can we have a minute?” Wyatt asks, unaware of the situation he’s stumbled into.
With a grimace, I wait for Gabriel's reaction. He doesn’t disappoint.
“No, man. You can’t. So why don’t you—” He steps forward but I reach out, my fingers latching onto his hand.
“Gabriel,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Just a minute?”
His jaw clenches. “No.”
So much for that. Pursing my lips, I try not to get angry. Gabriel’s just looking out for me. He’s being overprotective right now, but I know it comes from a good place.
Unsure of what to do, I look at Adriana, but she shrugs. “Don’t look at me. I’ve never been able to get Gabe to listen.”
Wonderful.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing heavily.
“I appreciate you coming to talk to me,” I tell Wyatt, giving him my full attention. “But we’re good. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Is he—” Wyatt’s eyes dart between us.
“A friend,” I assure him, answering his unspoken question. “A very protective, sometimes hot-headed friend.” I emphasize the last word, and Gabriel growls behind me.
Lovely.
“Okay, I guess I’ll ...” Wyatt gestures toward his truck.
“Yeah. I’ll see you around.”
“No, she will not,” Gabriel snaps, pulling me away.
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
Looking over my shoulder, I spot Adriana smiling as she goes to her own car.
“You’re not going to help a girl out?” I call out to her.
She shakes her head as I stumble forward, Gabriel’s hand on my hip steadying me.
“You’re in good hands,” she chuckles.
“Are you good?” Gabriel gives me all of a second to catch my bearings before tugging me over to the bleachers.
“Fine, thanks for asking,” I mutter. “Where are you taking me?”
We don’t climb the bleachers like I expect. Instead, Gabriel tugs me behind them, shielding us both from the bright sun.
Dropping my hand, he moves aside, his steps harsh and angry.
“Are you upset with me?” I ask, unsure of where his anger is coming from. I search his face for any hint of what can possibly be bothering him, but I find nothing.
He remains silent, staring ahead.
“Gabriel?”
His jaw ticks.
I approach him cautiously, as if dealing with a wild animal. “What is it?”
He grabs my wrist and spins me around, pressing my front against the cold steel of the bleachers.
“I told you I don’t share,” he snarls, his lips brushing against my ear.
I twist in his arms, but he refuses to allow me to face him. “You’re being ridiculous,” I tell him. “Wyatt just wanted to talk. You know, clear the air.”
His hands grip my waist, pressing me forward. With my hands braced on the metal frame, I crane my neck to look over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” My heart races in my chest. Is he—
His eyes don’t look at my face, instead they’re trained somewhere on the small of my back, his gaze unfocused.
“I’m not sharing you,” he repeats.
“I’m not asking you to,” I stammer, trying to get through to him. If he would just let me turn around.
Coming to some sort of decision, Gabriel grits his teeth. His index fingers hook onto both sides of my leggings and he starts to pull down.
“Don’t you dare,” I warn him.
His eyes snap to mine, a challenge burning in their depths.
“Or what?”
Shit. I don’t know what to say to that, not that he gives me much time to formulate a response.
He drags my leggings over my hips, his fingers hooking into the material of my panties and tugging them to my knees at the same time.
The cool autumn air kisses my backside, and heat burns through my chest.
“Gabriel Herrera, you are not screwing me outside behind the bleachers of our freaking university!”
His hands squeeze my bare ass, his hooded eyes never leaving mine. “Watch me.”
Panic courses through me, and I struggle in his arms. “Absolutely not,” I hiss, twisting free, but with my leggings still around my legs, I stumble forward onto my knees.
“This works too,” Gabriel chuckles darkly as he follows me to the ground.
“Gabe,” I blow my hair out of my face.
I hear the sound of his zipper and look back to see him pulling the hard length of his cock free.
“We are not doing this,” I tell him, my thighs clenching at the sight of him.
“Is this a hard line for you?” he asks, pressing the swollen head against my folds.
My brain short circuits, my breaths coming shorter and faster now.
Gabriel pushes an inch inside of me.
My mouth falls open. “Gabe—” My fingers curl into the soft grass, nails digging into the dirt.
“Is this a hard line for you, Cecilia? Tell me now.”
“I—” Fuck. I don’t know. It’s wrong, yet some part of me wants this. “We shouldn’t—”
“I don’t give a shit about what we should or shouldn’t do,” he interrupts, his voice laced with anger. “I care about the fact that some asshole you went on a date with is trying to get back into something with you.”
“That’s not—”
He doesn’t let me finish.
“And because you don’t seem to understand the seriousness of it, I plan on burying my dick so far up inside of you that the next time some asshole tries hitting on you, you’ll remember exactly who this pussy belongs to. Am I making myself clear?”
This is a volatile side of Gabriel that I should be wary of.
A possessive, division-one athlete side of him that refuses to lose no matter the game.
“Yes,” I force out, my voice breathless.
“Good. Now answer my fucking question. Is this a hard line for you?”
He’s mad. I can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. My core clenches, heat pooling between my thighs. And I don’t know what to make of it. I’m embarrassed by the desire I feel in this compromising position.
Without any real thought to what I’m doing, I press my hips back into him.
“No,” I admit, uncertain if any hard lines exist where Gabriel is concerned.
Anyone could stumble across us. All they’d have to do is walk over to this side of the field and they’d get an eyeful. But despite knowing that, it doesn’t stop me from giving in to him.
“Good,” he grunts.