27. Sean
It’s the weekend. Finally. Which means that there is no practice today. And to celebrate, I treat myself by sleeping in. I must have needed it too because I slept for ten hours. I yawn as I stretch my arms above my head. It’s not often that I get to sleep so much. I feel good. So good.
Until I walk into the kitchen. I stop dead in my tracks as my eyes sweep the room. Sitting at the island, with tears streaked down her face, is Astrid, who is also nursing her wrist, which she tries to wrap in a bandage.
Oh no.
“What did you do?” I ask, my panic rising. My voice comes out harsher than I intend, and I regret it when she winces. Shit. I run a hand over my face, rushing to her side.
“I went running,” she says. Her bottom lip quivers slightly and I want to die. The unspoken words hit me hard.
I went running without you.
She went running and because I have been too busy for her, she hurt herself.
This is all my fault. God, she looks so sad. “Let me help,” I say. I stand beside her, carefully touching her arm.
I don’t know why, but I’m afraid that my presence will upset her more. I watch her face to gauge if that is true, but it’s hard to tell with the tears streaking down her face.
Convinced I’ll upset her more, I take a step back to give her space. If I were her, I would be mad at me. Because I might as well have been the thing to make her fall. We always run together. And I let her down. She must hate me. I would hate me.
I do hate me.
Guilt tears through my chest until it strangles the breath from my lungs. This is my fault. I should have never left her to run all by herself.
“I think I sprained it,” she says, eventually. Her green eyes are big and wide and sad. She doesn’t look at me.
How could I have let her run alone?
“Can I take a look?” I ask this time before approaching. I watch nervously as she holds out her arm to me, which is already bruising pretty badly. “I think you’re right.” The rest of what I want to say I have to swallow down like knives.
This is my fault. This is all my fault.
I wait for her accusations to start. I wouldn’t blame her if she were angry, or if she wanted to push me away. In fact, I’m prepared for it. But this is Astrid, so of course she doesn’t. She doesn’t even look mad. I don’t deserve her kindness. Especially not today.
It almost makes it worse.
I know what I need to do.
I sit down next to her and lead her by the elbow towards me. I wrap her wrist for her, securing it with the little metal clasp. “I’ll take you to the ER if you want.”
“I’m alright.” She wipes the tears with her uninjured hand. “I’ve sprained it before. It’ll be fine.” She sighs, wincing when she accidentally bumps against something.
“That’s a six week heal time, at least.” I feel my heart thump. I should have been there. I should have gone with her.
“Six weeks isn’t bad,” she says, her voice small.
“Isn’t bad?” Does she not understand how unacceptable this is? That I did this to her? She should be shouting or screaming at me. It’s what I deserve for abandoning her.
“I doubt it will even take half that long, Sean,” she says turning away from me and back to the coffee maker. “I’ll be fine.”
I can only watch her try and fail to make herself a coffee for so long before I feel as if I might snap in two with self-loathing.
“Astrid, let me help.”
There are tears in her eyes now.
I can feel my left eye twitch. I’m so mad at myself that I could scream. But self-loathing won’t help to make her feel better. I rub the tension from my face before confronting her. I don’t want her to see my worry. She clearly has too much going on already.
“Here,” I say, taking the cup from her hand. “Go sit down. I’ll bring it to you, okay.”
“But you don’t know how I?—”
“Ice all the way to the top and just a splash of almond milk.”
She blinks at me. Her mouth opens and closes but no words come out, as if she’s surprised. How could she think so little of me? Of course I know how she drinks her coffee. I pay attention. I know everything about her. I’ve been watching her nonstop for months now, trying to learn everything that I can.
And yet I’ve still found a way to let her down.
“Go sit down,” I say again. I decide that if she doesn’t listen this time, I’m going to carry her to that couch and tuck her in with a blanket so that she can’t move.
“W-what are you doing?”
“I’m taking care of you.” Something I should be doing a better job at.
My plan is to make it up to her by caring for her the rest of the day. I can start by getting her coffee, and then create a comfortable spot for her in the living room. But I’ll need to do more. This is a small price to pay for my mistake. My chest tightens. I know I might deserve it, but I hope that she doesn’t hold this against me.
“I’m going to do everything for you, okay? Do not move. If you need something, you ask me, okay?”
She rolls her eyes but snuggles into the couch.
I take the time to tuck the blanket beneath her body. I don’t allow myself to enjoy the feel of her soft skin as I secure the blanket.
“Do you mind if I stay with you?” I ask, hesitantly. I’m not sure if I’m asking more for her or myself if I’m honest.
“I’d like that.”
I smile, sitting beside her, determined to give her company and comfort, but nothing more. But she snuggles into my side, and I wrap my arm around her, and before I can stop myself, I find myself leaning over to kiss her forehead.
“Sean,” she says, her eyes fluttering from my gaze to my lips and back again. “I’ve missed that.” She gives me a smile, and my chest tightens.
“I’ve missed it too.” I press one more kiss against her forehead, then her nose, then over her lips, beginning to pull back as she leans closer.
It’s like I can’t help myself. The way she feels against me, the way her floral perfume smells sweet, drawing me closer, even after her morning run.
I kiss her again, tentatively, then with more confidence. The soft touch of my lips becoming hungrier as my tongue slips over hers, gently, caressing, urging her mouth to open and allow me in deeper. I’m careful, though, making sure to only touch her face.
“Sean,” she moans. Her gaze flickers from my lips to my eyes when I pull away.
“I know,” I say. “Kissing you makes me never want to stop.”
“So… you’re not mad at me?” she asks.
“Why would I be mad at you?” I stroke her face.
“I don’t know.” She starts to pull away again but I’m not ready to lose her. Not today. Not after everything that’s happened between us.
She sighs. “I just thought… I just thought that maybe you were bored with me?”
“I could never, ever be bored of you, Astrid.”
She gives me a tentative but warm smile. It’s all she can do before I press my mouth to hers, desperate to feel her tongue against mine. The kissing starts out slow, our lips moving with care, soaking in every second of bliss, and turns more passionate as her teeth nip against my lip. She grabs for me, and I pull away before she can.
“No,” I say, smiling. “Bad girl. Today is about you.” I have to say the words to remember, otherwise I’ll get carried away.
She pouts, which makes me laugh. How can someone be so sexy and so adorable at the same time? It doesn’t even seem real.
“All about me?” She wiggles her eyebrows.
Before she can take it back, I drop to my knees before her.
There is a sharp intake of air. “Sean.” Her eyes go wide as I reach up and slide down her pants, pulling them free of her legs and following that with her underwear.
“Sean,” she gasps, her body already shaking.
I keep my stare on hers as I put a hand on either knee, loving how she starts to tremble before we’ve even begun.
“Sean… what are you doing?” her voice is tinged with fear, but also excitement.
“I told you.” I lick my lips. “I’m going to take care of you.”
I spread apart her thighs, watching her face as I do. Her eyes are wide, barely blinking as I position myself between her legs to keep them in place.
She can’t escape me now.
I sip my hands beneath her knees, gripping them to pull her closer to my face. God, I need to feel her, to taste her. She’s so fucking beautiful I don’t think that I’ll be able to draw this out like I wanted to.
She tries to prop herself up further on the pillows on the couch, but her wrist brace doesn’t allow her. She lets her head fall back against the cushions.
“Stay still,” I admonish.
“Oh,” she moans. Her thighs try to close but I grip her thighs and push them further apart as I place kisses along the inside of her leg, over the crease of her hip. She shudders beneath me.
I love how responsive she is already. Goosebumps spread across her skin as I tease her.
I inch my kisses closer, nipping and sucking over her folds, slowly, teasingly, waiting for the telltale sign of her hips attempting to grind against my face before I continue. I draw out every lick and lap of my tongue against her. She’s perfect. Desperate for the relief that will come soon enough.
“Please,” she whimpers. Her good hand snakes into my hair and pushes my face closer. Her nails grazing my scalp as she clutches me.
I run my tongue slowly over the length of her slit.
“Oh. Oh, God,” she moans, her body already tensing.
Under other circumstances, I might draw this out, make her beg for it. I love how desperate she is already. It is tempting to edge her to the point of tears. I know she would come so good for me. But I’ve been just as excited for this as she is. I won’t be able to hold back much longer. I’ve wanted this for too long to savor the moment.
“Sean, please.” It is her strangled moan that breaks the last of my restraint.
I press my tongue flat against her clit, and circle her slowly, letting her adjust to the sensation. She shakes with every pass. Her thighs press against my face, and I feel myself growing harder as her body writhes from my touch.
I circle her clit faster, alternative swirls of my tongue with light sucking against her skin. She’s so wet. So fucking wet. And tight. God, she feels good. I ease one finger inside of her, stretching her as she shudders with pleasure.
“Oh,” she cries. “Oh my god.” Her hips buck.
I want to drag my mouth over every inch of her pussy until my face is buried and I’m lost inside of her. I latch my lips on her clit, sucking it, biting it gently as I slip a second finger inside and her pussy throbs around me. I thrust my fingers, curling upward to find that spot against her inner wall as I increase my tongue’s pressure on her clit.
I know she’s close as her pussy clenches around me and her body trembles.
“You like seeing me on my knees, baby?” I look up to see her eyes. Fuck. My dick twitches in my pants. I watch as she starts to convulse with pleasure, her muscles tightening as her body arches into me.
“Sean.” She pants, breathless, barely able to say my name. “Don’t. Stop.”
I press my tongue hard and flat against her clit, sucking and lapping as my fingers fill her and her orgasm crashes through her body. I keep going until I feel every last shake of pleasure leave her limbs, only stopping when her legs fall limp around me.
I lick my lips. “Such a good girl.” Our eyes lock as I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck them clean. “You taste good too.”
Her lips quiver and her head falls back. “Sean.” Her chest heaves still as she comes down from her orgasm. “Sean.”
The sound of my name on her lips is the sweetest sound.
“Sean. That was. That was perfect.”
“You are perfect.” I mean it.
In the back of my mind that doubt creeps back in. But Coach was wrong. I can make both a priority. I can make both parts of my life work.