Chapter 15
Nadia
Everything is fine.
That’s what I tell myself as I sit across from Will Holt at the dinner table on Thanksgiving afternoon. After avoiding him and the backyard, until my mother sprang the invitation on the family two hours ago.
“Beth, this is so lovely,” Mrs. Holt says, gingerly setting a roll on her plate, “we can’t tell you how appreciative we are.”
Mr. Holt agrees, piling turkey on his plate. Apparently their trip to Gainesville was canceled last minute when his sister tested positive for the flu.
“Any time,” my father says. “We’re always happy to have extra. Beth and Nadia made enough for the whole neighborhood.”
At my name, the visitors shift their focus to me. “Your football team is doing well this year,” Mr. Holt says, as he wrinkles his nose at the green bean casserole and passes it on without taking any. “That quarterback, what’s his name?” He thinks for a moment. “Reynolds. He’s the real deal.”
“The hockey team is undefeated, too,” I blurt in the world’s worst attempt to change the subject. Next to me, Jason’s eyebrow rises and I toss in, “And basketball team is in contention to go to the final four. Wittmore is, uh, competitive athletically.”
“Well, I still wish Will had continued playing football.” Mrs. Holt gives her son a sad smile. “You were so good.”
Will Holt has been good at two things in his life; smoking too much weed and drawing naive girls into his pool house. If he’d ever really been good at anything else, like football, the other two took priority. He’d quit the team by senior year.
Thankfully, conversation shifts to Jason and Kendall’s upcoming wedding, and I pretend to focus on my food. Pretend, because I have no appetite. I barely have since seeing Will. I lie awake at night, replaying our relationship, delving into all those feelings I’d thought I’d left behind when I moved to Wittmore.
I also have to stop myself from texting Axel.
He’s just another man I’ve been using as a crutch. Another man that likes me better as a secret.
Clammy heat rises on my skin and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. The second dinner is over and it’s appropriate to leave the table, I hop up, grabbing a stack of plates.
“Are you okay?” Kendall asks, following me into the kitchen. “You look pale.”
“Just feeling a little hot. I guess my body hasn’t adjusted to the heat.”
“Nah, it’s not just you, it’s roasting in here,” she agrees. “Jason and I were talking about taking a swim? Got a suit?”
The pool sounds good.
Even better is when the parents decide to head over to the beach with a bottle of wine to watch the sunset. Will, thankfully, goes home, and I quickly change into a green two-piece stuffed in the back of my drawer.
“I’ll get in the pool,” I tell my brother and Kendall as I toss my towel and phone on the edge of a chair, “but no PDA from you two, got it?”
Kendall laughs, but my brother raises his hands from under the water, proving he’s not feeling her up below the surface. Dipping my toes in the water, I’m happy to see the heat is turned on. My mother swims laps every morning, and although it isn’t quite warm, it doesn’t have the chill of late fall. Taking a deep breath, I submerge myself, pushing off the wall with my toes and swim underwater.
The quiet is familiar. Comforting. We’d spent our childhood in the water, hours every day, and I feel more comfortable here than anywhere else. I stay under for as long as I can, until my chest tightens with the need for air, and I break through the surface.
I’ve barely inhaled when my breath is knocked from me again. Will sits on the edge of the pool by the stairs, legs dangling in the water. Smoke unfurls from the tip of his cigarette. “I think the first time I saw you, you were pretending to be a mermaid.”
“Yeah, well I was eight and I was pretty sure if I stayed in the water long enough, I’d grow a tail.” I adjust my top, making sure I’m covered, but it only draws his eyes to the movement.
“Nad,” Kendall calls. “Can you grab your phone? I told my mom I’d take some pictures today and totally forgot.”
“Sure.”
I lean over the pool deck and grab my phone that I’d left on my towel. Instinctively, I check for messages and see that Twyler texted a picture of her and Reese, along with her sister Ruby and her mom. A few others come by, but the one I’m hoping to see isn’t there.
Well, it’s not just a message I’m looking for. It’s an apology. Clearly, that’s not going to happen.
“Hoping to hear from your boyfriend?” Will asks.
“No,” I say absently, shooting off a reply to Twyler. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Good to know.”
I shoot him a look.
“What’s that for?” he asks. “You’ve been a little cold to me all week. What’s got those tiny bikini bottoms in a twist?”
“Nothing,” I reply, wading back into the water. “Ken, you ready?”
“Yep.”
She and I set up a few selfies, adding in a few with my brother. I make no real effort to include Will, ignoring him as he sits in the background, smoking cigarette after cigarette. Jason never had a clue what went on between us. He would have lost his shit back then, knowing I was sneaking across the property line to go hook up with his much older friend.
I snap one last picture where the light looks amazing on my hair and post it to my own account, with a wistful statement about family. Being home has been okay, but over the last few months, since Twyler and Reese started dating, it kind of feels like we’ve built a whole other family up in Wittmore. I miss them more than I expected.
A splash behind me sends a wave of water up the side of the pool, but it’s the low voice right behind me that sends a chill along my spine. “I thought you had big tits before, Nad, but damn.”
I spin and see Will in the water, walking over to me. He’s stripped off his shirt and his upper body has lost the tone it had from years of regular workouts. The bloat of a beer gut hovers at the surface of the water. “Don’t be gross.”
“By speaking the truth?” He shrugs. “Come on, you and I always had a good thing and now we don’t have to sneak around.” His eyes dart over toward Jason. “Unless you want to.”
“Not interested.” I start to move, but his hands meet the edge of the pool, one on each side, caging me in. I search over his shoulder for Jason and Kendall but they’ve gone back on their promise of no PDA and are making out on the other end. “Please move.”
“Why? Are you too good for me now? Because you weren’t back then, when you came sniffing around non-stop, begging for my dick.”
“I was fifteen, Will, I wasn’t begging for anything other than a little attention.”
“Cut the good girl act. You were a whore then just like you are now.” He smirks. “Yeah, I’ve seen the videos. How much do you make from those? I should probably get a cut for teaching you all of that in the first place. A finder’s fee for breaking you in.”
I don’t know if it’s the way he’s talking to me, so dismissive and rude, or the mention of the video that makes me snap, but the anger rising inside of me unleashes.
“You’re a fucking pig,” I seethe. “I wasn’t a whore. I was a naive little kid that you took advantage of. You didn’t break me in–you fucking raped me.” Hot tears blur my vision. “Not just once, but every fucking time you lured me into your shitty, filthy, little bedroom, and in every fucking way you wanted.”
“Rape? Jesus Christ. You showed up to my house day after day with those little bikinis on, or one of those short little skirts, and you think that wasn’t an invitation?” He snorts. “You’re fucking crazy. No wonder you’re selling yourself online. What else are you worth?”
The slap shocks me as much as it does him. Almost as much as me saying the word rape after all this time.
“You fucking bitch!” He lunges for me, but I swim out of the way.
“What the hell is going on?” Jason is already halfway across the pool, Kendall behind him, her expression a mixture of fear and worry. “Did he touch you?”
“Nothing.” Will is already on his way out of the water, the skin on his face already turning red. “I thought maybe she wanted to hang out. Apparently not.”
Jason and Will start to argue, and I use the opportunity to get out of the water, leaving my phone and towel behind. Dripping water and leaving a trail of wet footprints, I enter the kitchen, stopping at the counter, when I break down.
“Hey.” Kendall follows me in, drapes a towel over my shoulders, and wraps her arms around my shivering body. “What the hell happened?”
“He…” I start, but that old fear forces me to swallow it back down.
“Whatever you say he did, I’ll believe you.” She pushes the wet bangs out of my eyes.
“You will?”
“Absolutely. And if you want to tell me about it, I’m here to listen.”
With the bandage finally ripped off this year’s old wound, I do what I should have a long time ago, let it all out.
Kendall stayed for hours,waiting while I showered and got my emotions under control. Once I was in my pajamas and under the covers, I told her what happened. Not just tonight, but all those years ago, that first time. It was scary as hell to admit it all, to brace myself for her judgment, but it also felt good. Like the heaviest weight, one built out of fear and shame, had finally been released.
“You know it’s not your fault,” she tells me, once it’s all out.
“My brain does, but my heart doesn’t,” I admit. “Taking that blame was the only way I could survive at the time. Pretending like it was a choice seemed easier.”
“That’s what fuckers like Will Holt do to the people they hurt. They commit the crime, and then put the blame on the victim.”
The story of my fucking life. Or it has been. I don’t want it to be any more.
There’s a tap on the door, then Jason’s voice, “Ken, Nad, you guys okay?”
Kendall looks at me and I nod.
“Yeah,” she says, rising to open the door. When he sees me, I see the line of concern across his forehead and a split in his lip.
“He hit you?” I ask, sitting up.
“Not as hard as I hit him.” He hands me my phone and I see his scuffed knuckles. “You left this downstairs.”
I take the phone from him and pull the blankets back up to my chest.
“Thank you, for the phone and having my back.” I look to Kendall. “Both of you.”
“Always, Nadia,” she says. “Don’t forget it.”
I’ve given her permission to tell my brother everything. I don’t mind him knowing, I’m just not sure I can face him. I did ask her not to tell my parents. Maybe one day, but not yet.
I exhale when they shut the door behind them. I turn off the light and reach for my phone. There’s a few messages, but one makes my heart skip a beat.
GoalieGod: Happy Thanksgiving, T. Hope you made it through the day fuck-up free. I know I barely did. My biggest fuck-up yet was leaving things the way I did the other day. I’m sorry. There’s no excuse. I only hope you’ll forgive me.
Nadia:Can we talk when we get back?
Not even a heartbeat goes by before he responds.
GoalieGod: Absolutely.
I make the decision then to head back to Wittmore sooner than later. I know he has a game tomorrow night. What I have to say can’t wait.
After the stressof telling my parents I was leaving early and then navigating the crowded airports at the holiday, I arrive at the Teal House, worn out and exhausted. It was a long day, after an even longer Thanksgiving, but I’m ecstatic to be back at our tiny, cozy house hundreds of miles away from Florida.
Shotgun and the Teal house are quiet. When I get inside, I see Twyler’s open suitcase on the bed. She’s on the road with the basketball team and won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. The men’s hockey team just finished playing Amsterdam U over at the arena. I checked the score in the Uber, and we were up by two.
I dump my bag in my room and head to the kitchen, filling up a pot with water and turning on the stove to make some ramen. I’m not upset everyone is busy. I think I need a minute to get myself together, especially with Twyler. She has a way of seeing right through me, and right now I feel fucking transparent.
When I told my parents I’d changed my flight they hadn’t been happy. I told them I had a project due–which isn’t completely false. Eric and I need to get our presentation finalized. Mom’s spidey-senses could tell something was wrong, but Jason must have smoothed it over. I owe him one. Him and Kendall, both.
I drop the brick of noodles into the pot and add in the packet of spices. Once it’s cooked, I fill my bowl and head back to my room. I’ve just set the bowl on the bedside table when I hear a tap at the window.
Axel.
Just seeing him creates a reaction in my body. I rush over and unlock the window.
“Hi.” His eyes sweep over me.
“How did you know I was home early?”
“Reese may have mentioned you were getting back while Twyler is gone.”
I frown. “If you know she’s gone then why are you coming to the window?”
He shrugs and gives me a lopsided grin. “This just kind of seems like our thing, but if you want me to go around–or leave–I will.”
“No,” I say, stepping back to give him room. “Stay.”
He steps through the window and shuts it behind him. Standing in the middle of the room, I take him in. He’s dressed in his post game suit, which means he didn’t even stop off at the Manor to change. The tie is already loosened, and he looks sexy as hell–smells it too–all clean and soapy after his shower. His damp, blond hair a shade darker than usual.
“I need to–”
“I’m sorry,” he says, cutting me off. “That shit I said last time? That was me just dumping my baggage on you and it wasn’t fair.”
“It’s okay, I know a lot about baggage.”
He shifts and I realize he’s nervous. I get it, I’m nervous too.
“I was way out of bounds. You’d just done something amazing for me–so sweet and kind–and instead of thanking you like I wanted to I got stupid paranoid and shit all over it like an absolute dumbass. I won’t even bother with excuses, because there are none.” He swallows. “I just hope you can forgive me.”
“I forgive you,” I say, with zero hesitation. “I shouldn’t have accused you of using me. We made an agreement and you were just doing what I asked.”
“So are we good?” His eyebrow arches. “You’re important to me, Nadia, and I’m not willing to leave until we get this straight, not until you’re willing to talk about where this can go.”
“We’re good,” I tell him, my pulse beating stronger, “and I want that too, but…”
“But what?”
“Something happened on Thanksgiving. Something I want to share with you and may change the way you think about me.” I know I’ve changed in the last twenty-four hours. Knowing I need to get comfortable for this, I climb onto the bed and I pat the spot next to me. He may need to get comfortable too. “If you have the time to listen.”
“I’ve got all the time you need, darlin’.”
He kicks off his shoes and takes off his coat. My ramen sits uneaten on the bedside table–my appetite lost in a jumble of nerves.
“What’s this about?” he asks, taking my hand. I trace the ‘Y’ on his knuckle.
“Me.”
“You?”
I nod. “This week I ran into someone from my past. Someone that hurt me, although it took me until just now to realize how bad.” I tell him about running into Will–and how things escalated in the pool.
“That fucker called you a whore?” He looks ready to crawl out of his skin.
“It wasn’t the first time,” I admit.
“Well, damn, T, that just makes it worse.”
“I know. And I allowed it,” I confess, “in a way I kind of encouraged it. I thought that’s how older kids talked to one another. I thought that was what I had to do to get his attention. I let him say and do a lot of things to me that I didn’t want or like.”
Our eyes meet and he knows. I know he understands. “Fuck.”
“I was so in over my head. He was this cool older guy. My brother’s friend. I trusted him. I wanted his attention. His validation. So when he,” I swallow, “when he made me do things to him, I didn’t fight back. I didn’t really know how to or if I could.”
Axel’s arms wrap around me, the stiff collar of his shirt grazing my cheek. He holds me tight and I sink into it, breathing him in. Safe space.
“He–”
“You don’t have to tell me.” He turns to face me. “Not unless you want to.”
“I want to.”
I tell him about all of it. The way he flirted with me around other friends, getting me to drop my guard, then inviting me over to the pool house by myself. “He was my first kiss,” I tell him. “The first penis I saw and touched. The first one to go inside of me.” I give him a pointed look. “Nothing was off limits, because I didn’t know how to say no.”
“Jesus, T. He was older and more experienced, preying on his friend’s kid sister. A fucking predator.”
“I knew it was off. All of it. There was the pain I felt, physically and emotionally. The shame I experienced during the act and when I snuck back home, crossing our yards, pretending to be the same girl I was when I went over. I just didn’t know what to do. How to get out of it. Who to tell. So I just took it, until he got distracted by other girls and I grew up and ran as far away as I could.” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Unfortunately, I didn’t leave it behind me. I brought all of that toxic behavior with me.”
“You’re not toxic.” He brushes the back of his fingers down my cheek. “You’re kind and beautiful and smart.”
“Maybe not,” I give him an appreciative grin, “but there’s something in me that seeks this kind of validation–even if it’s from terrible people.” I inhale. “I’m ready for it to stop.”
“You already have. You stood up to that asshole neighbor and to Mr. America, Brent Reynolds. You’re not the same person you were when I first met you.” He tightens his grip on me. “I mean, you were hot as fuck then and hot as fuck now, but you’re different. More self-aware. More confident.”
“I don’t feel confident.”
“It takes time.” He shifts so that he can see me better. “When I started playing goalie I was fucking terrified. Of the puck. Of the stick. Of the aggressive guys holding and hitting both. And just when I’d get comfortable, I’d move up a level and it would start again, this time with a bigger, faster, better player.” He chuckles. “The first time Reese took a shot on me I almost wet myself.”
“You were scared of him?”
“Not of him, but looking like a fool going up against one of the top power forwards in the league. I was afraid he’d prove to Coach Bryant I didn’t deserve my spot and I’d get sent back to Texas.”
“What happened?”
He rolls his eyes. “We both made fools of ourselves. He was nervous too and whiffed the shot but I was so jacked up I went for it and tripped over the ice, busting my chin.” He points to the thin white scar. “Blood got everywhere.”
I laugh, imagining the two of them embarrassed and pissed. “I get it, but I don’t think it’s the same.”
“What’s the same is that confidence isn’t something that’s given to you, T. It’s earned. Practiced. And the past few weeks you’ve been practicing how to be a woman that doesn’t need to chase jerseys and looking for validation from the wrong kind of people.”
Huh. There may be some truth to that.
“And even when you tried to screw up,” he says, a slow grin quirking his lip, “I was there to keep you from any epic fuck-ups.”
“You helped me?” I bark a laugh. “Please. I’m the one that had to keep helping you! You’re weak, Rakestraw. Weak!”
“I’ll show you weak,” he mutters, and in a move I never saw coming, attacks me with his fingers, tickling my sides. I yelp and squirm, trying to roll off the bed and escape, but he catches me with those strong, quick hands. Dragging me to the middle of the bed, he flips me on my back. Hovering over me, he’s all muscle and strength, and sexy masculinity. “Do I look weak, T?”
Chest heaving, I shake my head, unable to lie. “No.”
His jaw tightens and his pupils darken. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“I want to kiss you right now.”
“Why aren’t you?”
“Because you and I just had a pretty serious, unsexy talk and I don’t want to trivialize it by getting a boner right after you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with me.”
“You always have a boner.” I feel it between us right now and my skin grows hot with want. “Kiss me.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t want to be another man that hurts you.”
I reach out and cup his face, running my thumb down the scar he just showed me. I know my truth in this moment more than I ever have before. “You’re the only man that’s ever given me a choice, Axel. That’s provided a place of safety, while making me feel wanted.” I push up and kiss the hard line of his jaw. “This is what I want. You’re what I want.”
“I’m not fucking this up,” he tells me. I want to ask what he means, but there’s no need. He shows me in the first kiss–gentle, his fingers barely lifting my chin so he can slowly lick my lips.
“You taste like salt.”
“It’s the ramen.”
“Well, it’s fucking delicious,” he says, with absolute sincerity. His thumb strokes down my jaw, an ask for me to open. I part for him and the next kiss is deeper, unrelenting with intent, our tongues meeting in a desperate rush. “Jesus,” he breathes, “you always taste so good.”
My response is a hum, then I suck his piercing between my teeth, a distraction as my fingers move between us, unfastening the buttons of his dress shirt. His body always shocks me; lean, hard, muscle, decorated with ink. He shrugs off the shirt, tossing it on the floor. In a surge, I rise up and lick his nipple.
Sucking in a breath, his hands thrust under my shirt, muttering as he cups my breasts, “Fucking hell, these tits.”
His nipple peaks, a hard pebble against my tongue. Mine do the same when he yanks down my bra, flattening his palms over the top. We both shift to our knees, the rest of our clothing coming off in a rush, until we’re just in cotton and lace.
I gape at him.
“What?” he says, hand gripping his cotton covered shaft and giving it a long stroke. The movement tugs down the waistband, revealing the ‘T’ tattoo. My heart flips.
“You look like an underwear model, that’s what.”
A grin tugs at his lips. “Yeah?”
I roll my eyes, but it’s just a diversion. I can’t decide where to focus. On the hard cut abs? Or the tattoo of my initial? Or gah, the outline of his cock threatening to escape his boxers? I’ve seen a lot of men’s dicks, but none make my stomach twist with excitement the way Axel’s does.
“Admit it,” he says, looping his arm around my waist and pulling me close, making me feel every hard inch of his body. “You like me, which is good, because I’m crazy about you.”
His words are light, but his gaze is intense. It’s weird. Good. Strange. I start to turn my face overwhelmed by it all, by him. He holds me in place, asking, “What’s going on in that pretty little head?” His green eyes hold mine. “Too fast? Too much? Too naked? Talk to me, T.”
“No man has ever been like this to me before.”
His eyebrow rises, wanting more.
“You’re sweet. Silly. You say dirty things but it’s not…”
“Demeaning?” he asks, the smile gone. “Because if you ever feel that with me–”
“I don’t,” I say quickly. “Ever.”
“Good,” he says, running his hands over my hips, “because all I want is to make you feel good. Safe. But I’m not gonna lie, I’ve wanted to get back inside of you for weeks now, wanted to feel you clench around me.” He licks under my ear, sending a ripple of goosebumps across my skin. “I want to see your sexy body over me, or under me, or maybe both if we’re not too tired.”
I laugh. “We both work out, we should be good.”
“Trust me?” he asks, fingers toying with the bottom edge of my panties until they dip underneath, brushing along the seam between my cheeks. A rush of heat pools between my legs.
I nod.
“Then say it, darlin’, tell me what you want.”
What do I want? One thing. “Fuck me, Ax. Hard. Like you mean it.”
A switch flips: gone is the man tip-toeing around my feelings, around my fears. The following kiss is rough and his body commanding as he nudges me to my back. Splayed before him, he stares at me for a long moment, before he works his way down my body. His mouth is blistering–taunting–as he works those quick hands to remove the last scraps of my clothing.
He’s worshipful. Reverent. Kissing my belly and between my thighs. Roughly, he spreads my legs and his tongue swipes over my clit, that mustache tickling. I cry out, pulling him back up. “No?” he asks, lips shiny.
“Not now.” I want him near me, on me, in me. I like the weight of his body over mine; strong, safe, protective. Using my feet, I push his boxers down his hips, removing the last barrier between us. His erection is thick, and I reach for it, running my hand down the length. “I want you in me when I come.”
He shudders, growling at my touch.
“It’s been a while,” he tells me, thrusting into my hand. “If we’re doing this, it’s gotta be soon.”
“I’m ready,” I say, kissing him again.
“Please tell me you have condoms.” His jaw tightens. “Because your roommate”s boyfriend took mine.”
I wrinkle my nose, not wanting to know, and reach for the drawer of the bedside table. The soup sloshes, cold now, coating my hand. Axel’s hand closes over mine, bringing it to his mouth to lick off the juice before tearing into the package.
He never stops kissing or touching me, even as he preps himself. The other guys I’ve been with only focused on themselves. There was never any tenderness. I was just an object to use. A plaything to get them off. With Axel, it’s the opposite. This moment is about the two of us, every touch a give and take.
“You ready?” he asks, running his fingers over the wet heat between my legs. He presses one into me, then another, pumping in slowly, stretching me out. My hips rise to meet him. It’s not enough. I want more. “Yeah, fuck, your pussy is soaked.”
With his arms on either side of me, he looks down at me, holding my eyes. He presses against my entrance, but hesitates.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my body feeling so brittle, like it’s going to break if he doesn’t get inside me and hold me together.
He pushes the hair off my forehead. “You’re beautiful, Nadia.”
The first time we were together it was just another fuck-up. A way to get lost, to run from my problems by creating bigger ones. This time, when he enters me, sheathing himself deep, I feel it in my bones. My blood. My heart.
“Good?” he asks, the muscles in his throat tense as he holds himself back.
“Perfect.” I lift my hips, urging him to move, wanting him as deep as he can go. He gives me what I want, thrusting hard, letting loose. I cry out and his forehead drops to mine, sweaty and warm. The tight band inside of me coils tighter and tighter, our bodies in sync, until I snap first, the orgasm unfurling inside, spreading a pulsating warmth across my nerves.
My body tightens around him and he groans, fingers digging into the meat of my hip as he stutters to a halt, spilling inside. I take him, the hard thrust of his hips, the way he buries his cock between my legs and his face in my neck. I feel him–every slick inch of skin, every heavy breath as he empties himself into me.
My nails dig into his back. I can’t get him close enough.
Intertwined, our chests rise and fall, as our bodies float back to earth. His fingers link with mine, the YOLO face up.
For the first time in my life, I know one thing for certain: doing this with Axel, letting him in, allowing him to love me? It definitely wasn’t a fuck-up.