Chapter 19
GARRETT
My phone pinged as I was merging onto the freeway.
Instantly, my pulse was thumping. It was Liam, wasn’t it? It had to be. After that look we’d shared, and all the texts and conversations and driving ourselves out of our minds?
Fuck. Yes. It had to be Liam.
The text pinged again.
“You want me to check that in case it’s important?” Jasmine, who was in the passenger seat, gestured at the phone.
Panic almost had me snatching my phone out of the cup holder with a “No! It’s fine!”
That would’ve been a dead giveaway. Instead, I casually said, “Nah, it’s probably just work. It can wait.”
“Your work texts you this late?” Chris asked from the backseat.
“Sometimes,” I muttered. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes. It can definitely wait.”
They didn’t press the issue, and we continued up the freeway toward Cranberry.
My phone remained silent, thank God—Liam wasn’t one to be pushy, and he knew I sometimes didn’t have my phone in front of my face.
I continued toward the kids’ townhouse, chatting with them about the game as I drove and pretending I wasn’t going out of my mind with the need to read that damn text.
Finally, though, I pulled into their parking lot and stopped in front of their stoop.
“Thanks for the lift,” Chris said.
“Any time.”
He came around to the passenger side to help Jasmine out. Poor girl; she was small to begin with, and she’d definitely entered the “off-balance and hard to get up” phase of pregnancy. Which was only going to get worse over the next eight weeks or so.
Chris made sure she was steady on her feet, though, and he took her purse so she could use the handrail on the way up the stoop. He paused to give me a smile and a wave, then continued inside with Jasmine.
I smiled as I watched them go. I’d made a lot of mistakes as a father, but my son had grown into a man who treated his partner like gold. Whether that was because of or despite my parenting, I was proud of him.
After they’d disappeared into the house, I headed out. I made sure I was out of sight before I pulled over, snatched my phone out of the cup holder, and read the message.
Liam
If you text me on your way up my driveway, I’ll open the garage door.
All the air rushed out of me. Oh, fuuuck. No, he wasn’t being explicit about it, and he wasn’t beating around the bush with “hey, if you’re not doing anything else” or “do you want to come over?”
Those were not difficult lines to read between, though, and he knew damn well I wouldn’t come back with “eh, not tonight.” The only answer was “Fuck yes.”
I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath and gather my thoughts, not that it helped.
I still didn’t know if it was right or wrong. I didn’t know if my son would ever understand if he found out or if he’d even care at all.
But God help me, I could not go another night without Liam.
Coming up the driveway.
I put the phone aside and continued up Liam’s winding driveway. The floodlights guided my way like runway lights, leading me straight to the garage’s fourth bay, which was already halfway open.
As the door continued to rise, Liam appeared and—oh God, I wanted him. All my concerns and doubts were still there, but they were hard to hear over how much I wanted the gorgeous man gazing back at me.
Then I realized he was waving my dumb ass into the garage.
I shook myself—then adjusted myself—and blood pounded in my ears as I pulled into the garage.
I barely even heard the opener start closing again over the thundering of my pulse.
All the way to Sewickley, some part of me had put up a half-assed fight about all the reasons I shouldn’t do this.
I’d sort of considered turning around at least half a dozen times, though even I couldn’t say for sure if I’d ever been in danger of actually doing it.
Not after losing my stupid mind over him ever since that night in his kitchen.
One look at Liam through my windshield, and any hesitation I’d had left was a distant memory. Whatever fire I’d seen in those eyes outside the locker room was a weakly glowing ember compared to what burned in them now.
Oh, fuck yes…
By the time I was out of the car, the garage door was mostly shut and there was nothing but space and clothes between us. We closed that space fast, and finally—
Oh, fuck. Finally.
His strong body felt even more solid than the car he was pressing me up against. His fingers dug into my hips and dragged through my hair as he parted my lips with his tongue.
As I was reaching for his face, though, the memory of the bruise on his cheekbone made me hesitate. I drew back. “You’re not—how’s your face? After the high—”
He kissed me again, and I forgot what I was even thinking.
I vaguely remembered I should be careful of his cheekbone, but he had plenty more real estate for my hands to explore.
His thick hair. His round ass. His powerful shoulders.
Every contour beneath his clothes brought back memories of that too-brief moment of making out with him, and heat flared beneath my skin at the thought of not holding back this time.
“Face is fine,” he mumbled breathlessly between kisses. “Just… God, I needed you tonight.”
My knees went weak. “Really?”
“Well, yeah.” He drew back a little and grinned up at me. “Why do you think I texted?”
No rational, logical answer came to mind. And if it did, it wouldn’t have lasted because Liam slid a hand over my lower back and pulled our hips together. The erection rubbing mine through our clothes made me whimper as all my thoughts went up in smoke.
“Keep this up,” I mumbled, “and you’re going to end up plowing me over the front of a car.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
My laugh vanished into the heat of another hard, demanding kiss.
“Fuck,” I murmured.
His lips curved into a grin a second before they softened.
His dick sure didn’t soften, though, and neither did mine, and the more we kissed, the more we rutted together.
I thought I was going to lose my balance, but right then, Liam pressed me back even harder against my car, the cold of the glass and metal through my clothes making me gasp.
He dipped his head and kissed my neck, and I was thankful for the car because I didn’t know how else I’d stay upright.
“I can’t guarantee anything acrobatic tonight,” he murmured against my throat. “Not… Not right after a game. But I—”
“I don’t care,” I panted, dragging my hand up his back. “We can just make out on your couch as long as you don’t let go.”
His little whimper was nearly inaudible, and it damn near knocked my legs out from under me even with the car for support. “We should take this inside. We need to get naked. Now.”
No argument from me. Unfortunately, teleportation hadn’t yet been invented. Rude. The only way we were getting to the bedroom was on our own power.
So, reluctantly, we let each other go, though he kept a firm grip on my hand as we started for the door.
He led me inside, and we paused just long enough for me to kick off my shoes before we continued across the kitchen.
But then he paused, his body suddenly tense.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. Oh God, was he having second thoughts? Should I be having second thoughts?
Liam took a deep breath and faced me. “Listen, um…” He shifted nervously, avoiding my gaze. “This is super awkward, and I hate doing it, but…”
I studied him.
Then his eyes flicked to the kitchen island again. No, not to the island—to the manila folder sitting on it. With a pen beside it.
He took a deep breath and fidgeted, eyes once again darting toward the folder. “My agent told me a long time ago that it’s a good idea, and I—”
“NDA?”
Liam’s gaze snapped toward me, his eyes wide.
I nodded at the folder. “You want me to sign an NDA?”
Color rose in his cheeks, and he cringed. “I don’t want you to, but—”
“But you’re a public figure.” I reached for the folder. “You have to protect your reputation.”
“It’s to protect the team, too,” he whispered, watching as I opened the folder. “I’m their captain, and…” He closed his eyes and pushed out a breath through his nose. “It’s such garbage that it’s even necessary, but I had an ex try to blackmail me, and…”
“What?” I scoffed as I took the papers out of the folder. “Someone actually did that to you?”
Scowling, he nodded. “Unfortunately. So my lawyer and my agent both said it was a good idea to have something like this before I got involved with someone.” With a humorless laugh, he added, “Real aphrodisiac, believe me.”
I shrugged and skimmed over the papers. It seemed like a pretty boilerplate non-disclosure agreement. If I told anyone—especially anyone tied to the media or the team—that I’d been intimate with Liam, I’d be on the hook for damages.
I shifted my gaze from the text to Liam. “What about Chris?”
His spine straightened. “What about him?”
“I mean, I’m not going to tell him we’re hooking up.” I grimaced. “That is… not a conversation I need to have with my son. But if…” I hesitated. “What if this doesn’t stop at hooking up?”
Liam swallowed like it took some actual work. “What if things get serious?”
I nodded slowly. “I’m not jumping the gun there. I’m totally fine if we just fuck and move on with our lives. But if we don’t…” I held up the papers and raised my eyebrows.
He glanced at the papers, then met my gaze. “I mean, if we get to that point, we’ll probably both tell him, won’t we? Together?”
“True.”
“This”—he gestured at the NDA—“is just so nobody goes running to the press or tells the front office.” He paused. “Do you want me to add something at the bottom?”
I considered it. This probably wasn’t the best time to be hammering out something like this; I was itching to get past the paperwork and get him out of those clothes.
It was easy to imagine we could be completely reasonable about things down the line, but didn’t I know how quickly two reasonable adults could turn petty and vindictive?