Chapter 28
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
brUCE
After practice, I shower and change then drive as fast as I can over to Farrah’s apartment. Parking several blocks down the street from her place puts a twisted feeling in my gut. It feels dishonest and cold. All I want is to come clean, to tell everyone that Farrah and I are together. But one—she’s not ready. And two—I can’t risk upsetting our team dynamic in the middle of the freaking playoffs.
So, I’m walking a tightrope, and every time I see my team captain it feels like that tightrope’s about to snap, and send me tumbling to the ground.
I sneak around the side of the house, hoping Remy hasn’t installed any new security cameras I didn’t know about before and feeling ridiculous. I’m a grown man sneaking into a girl’s window—er, apartment.
As I’m creeping up the steps to her apartment, she opens her door and peers out. Her pretty face brightens as soon as she sees me, a wide grin appearing. If I could put that look on her face for the rest of my life, I could die a happy man. Stanley Cups or no. It’s her smile that has the guilt in my stomach withering away, replacing it with a warm sensation of contentment and happiness.
Her thin tank top and little pink pajama shorts are enough to drive a man wild, and I bound up the steps faster. When I reach her, she throws her arms around my neck. My hands slide around her waist, holding her steady as I kiss her and walk us back inside her apartment. I kick the door closed with a snap of my heel, making Farrah laugh against my lips.
We exchange a smile and chuckle in between kisses and roaming hands. Farrah’s fingers press against my chest, then glide slowly down my stomach. She takes her time, like she’s counting every muscle there. While she savors the planes of muscle on my body, I enjoy the softness of hers beneath my own hands. Her mouth moves from my lips to a spot right on the pulse point of my neck that until just now, I didn’t know was an area I like being kissed. But I like it. A lot. My blood feels like it’s thrumming throughout my body, every nerve ending coming alive with the desire to touch her.
She moves to my earlobe, the pierced one, and tugs gently with her teeth. I groan, using my hold on her waist to push against her and put some distance between us. She whines and tries to come closer again.
I bring my hands to her shoulders and hold her at arm’s length. Once I’m sure she’ll stay put, I move backward across the room until my butt hits the kitchen counter.
“Okay. Here’s the thing. We know we have incredible physical chemistry…like, out of this world, insanely hot chemistry. But…”
Her lips twist to the side in a sassy expression, waiting for me to finish the sentence. She crosses her arms over her ample chest, briefly drawing my attention there. I close my eyes and try to remember what I was talking about.
“But I want us to get to know each other. When we’re kissing, we’re not talking.”
She holds her hands out to her sides. “Haven’t we been getting to know each other for the last year and a half?”
I cross my arms this time, mirroring the sassy pose she did a moment ago. “Oh, is that what we were doing? Do you mean the year and a half that you were completely ignoring me and pretending I didn’t exist? I guess I didn’t get to know you very well, seeing as you would barely look at me.”
Her pout lifts into a hesitant smile, and she takes one small step toward me. My arms uncross and I brace my hands on the countertop behind me.
“When I looked at you, I remembered our kiss. And when I remembered our kiss… I wanted to repeat it.” Her eyes go from soft and sweet and innocent to dangerous and sultry.
I swallow as she prowls toward me. She’s the cheetah and I’m the…what do cheetahs eat? Don’t know and don’t care right now. But it’s amusing watching her move like she’s the one with all the power, considering how much bigger I am. But just this once I don’t mind being the hunted. As long as she’s the huntress. Who’d have thought this sweet little baker could be such a minx?
She continues her slow prowl toward me, not stopping until her chest brushes against mine. She’s close enough that she’s forced to tilt her chin to meet my gaze. I’m sure my eyes are as dark as hers currently are.
Farrah’s hands come up to rest on my waist, right above my hips and she leans against me. “What do you want to know about me, McBride?”
I look into her eyes, really trying to see her. Not just who she is on the outside, but her soul. I reluctantly remove one hand from where it’s braced for safety on the counter behind me and move it to her chin. My hand cups her gorgeous face.
“Everything,” I say, my voice deep and low.
I kiss her softly, then pull back. My hand moves down to hold hers, and I lead her to the couch. We sit down close to each other, our hands still linked.
“Let’s play a game.” I search the dark blue eyes I can’t stop thinking about. “Twenty questions.”
She laughs. “I’ll give you three.”
“Five.”
She glances upward, considering this. “Okay, fine. Five questions.”
“And you can ask me five in return.” I shrug. “Or twenty. I’m an open book.”
Farrah rolls her eyes. “I didn’t limit the amount because I’m closed off, I just wanted to get back to the kissing faster.”
I shoot her what I hope is a roguish look. “You ladies always have one thing on your minds.”
She sighs like she’s annoyed, but she can’t wipe the smile off her face. “Let me get us some drinks before we start this. What do you want? I have seltzers, wine, Coke Zero, water.”
“Nonalcoholic seltzer?”
“You got it. Pineapple?” Farrah arches a knowing eyebrow.
“You took note of my favorite, eh?”
She gets up and starts to walk away, but glances back at me over her shoulder. It’s hot. Very hot. “I wanted to be prepared.”
Goodness, I love this confident side of her personality.
Farrah smiles at me, then heads to the fridge and pulls out a seltzer and a Coke Zero and comes back to sit beside me.
“Not a seltzer girl?” I ask, watching as she snaps the top of her can and takes a sip.
“No, that stuff is disgusting. No offense.”
I shake my head. “More for me, I guess.”
“Okay, enough small talk, McBride. Ask the first question.” She leans forward to place her can on the coffee table, the motion causing the bottom of her tank top to pull up, exposing a sliver of the bronze skin on her back. I just know that area of her back must be smooth and soft, and I’d do just about anything to run my hands along it.
I blink a few times, reminding myself we’re getting to know each other. And I’m supposed to ask a question. I try to think of one to start us off that’s not too invasive.
“Did you play any sports growing up?”
She smiles, like she thought of a happy memory. “Volleyball. I loved it.”
I roll my lips with my teeth, trying not to whimper. Farrah in those little volleyball shorts? That’s my new fantasy.
“Really? Volleyball is what gets you going?” She asks, obviously seeing the desire written across my face.
“I think everything about you gets me going.”
“You’re the one who put a stop to the kissing.”
“Huge mistake,” I say, leaning toward her with a grin that I can’t hide.
She pushes me away with a hearty laugh. “Stay focused! I want to know what your other questions are.”
“All I really needed to know was that you own a pair of volleyball shorts.”
Farrah playfully slaps my shoulder. “Okay, it’s my turn. What’s your most embarrassing moment?”
Groaning, I slump back against the sofa cushions then smack a hand over my face. “I changed my mind! I want a dare!”
Farrah laughs. It’s loud and unreserved and the sound of it could pull me out of the darkest mood—if I was in a dark mood.
Uncovering my face, I watch her in fascination, loving all the different facets of her personality.
“This isn’t truth or dare. Just truth,” she finally says through her laughter.
I release a half-laugh, half-groan. “Fine. When I was ten, I was in net for a hockey tournament. I’d spent all summer going to goalie clinics and camps…then all fall doing extra ice time on top of practices. We were about to win the tourney, our team’s first ever championship. But I was nervous, it was my first big success playing goalie. I was so nervous; I drank a water bottle throughout each period. Whenever I was nervous, I took a sip.”
She gasps and her hands cover her mouth.
I run my tongue along my front teeth, remembering that day like it was hours ago. “And as you can probably guess, I pissed myself. All over the ice. It was a big puddle…enough for my teammates to notice when they rushed to congratulate me when we won. One of the kids slipped in the puddle.”
Farrah wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Okay, that’s pretty bad.”
“So, are you still attracted to me now that you know that?”
She smirks. “Is that one of your five questions? Choose wisely.”
I bite my bottom lip and place a hand on her thigh, then slowly slide that hand up higher and higher. Her breath hitches and goosebumps break out along her smooth, tanned legs.
I exhale a cocky laugh. “Nah, you’re definitely still attracted to me. So, my second question is?—”
“You’re the worst.” Farrah gasps and tries to scoot away from me, grabbing one of her colorful throw pillows and tossing it toward my face. It misses, and I lunge forward, gripping her around the waist and holding on tight then pulling her onto my lap like I did the last time I was here.
“Come back here.”
She shakes her head but doesn’t push me away. I keep my arms around her waist, and she lays her head down on my shoulder. I could sigh happily, but I refrain, not wanting to be too cheesy. But it feels so good to hold her like this.
“What’s your favorite childhood memory?” I ask, keeping my voice low as to not ruin the moment.
Farrah moves her head, getting more comfortable. I can feel her smiling against my shirt, like she instantly thought of a good memory, something that has stuck with her through the years.
“It might sound silly, but we used to go to a quiet beach in Michigan every summer. We stayed in the same beach house every year. It had white siding, and a wraparound front porch with a swing. The front gate opened to a private beach and us kids would run and laugh and build sandcastles while Mom and Dad rested in lawn chairs, always holding hands and grinning at each other. I always thought to myself that that’s exactly what I wanted someday. To have a family with my soul mate. I thought even the simplest things would feel lovely if I had the right person by my side.” As she trails off, her voice grows softer, a sadness burrowed within.
She pulls away from me, and I miss the heat of her body pressing against my chest. Farrah slowly scoots off my lap and sits beside me, her back resting against the couch, and her shoulder pressing into me. I’m thankful she left that tiny bit of connection.
“I’m sorry your ex wasn’t that person, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist.”
She tilts her head to look up at me, and her sad eyes break me apart. “You really think so?”
I nod. “I have a pretty good feeling your soul mate is still waiting for you.”
Her eyes become glassy, and the sight causes something to snap inside of me. The things that idiot ex of hers said and did…they still affect her. They might always.
But I’ll do everything I can to assure her she’s wonderful, beautiful, and worthy of love. And whatever else that man might have convinced her that wasn’t true.
I look into her eyes and the tears that were brimming there a moment ago, are gone. I breathe a sigh of relief. Not because I can’t handle seeing a woman cry…but because she’s crying over someone that doesn’t deserve her tears, her love, her anything.
“Your turn,” I say lightly, hoping to brighten the mood.
Farrah worries her plump bottom lip in a way that tortures me. “Who’s your favorite Disney princess?”
I chuckle but her expression stays serious, I grow somber.
“Take it seriously; your answer is very important.” Her face is so stoic it’s almost scary. And it makes me nervous because I would usually just say Ariel since she’s wearing the skimpiest outfit…but Farrah wants me to put some thought into this. So, I do. I take a few minutes to really mull it over, while she sips on her Coke.
“Tiana,” I answer finally, nervous it’s not the correct answer.
“Okay,” Farrah says, dragging out the y sound. “Why her?”
“That’s two questions, but okay.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Tiana is strong, kind, and hard working. And she’s a baker. Bakers are hot.”
Farrah laughs again and I join her. “I’m surprised you even know who Tiana is. Everyone forgets about her even though she’s arguably the best princess.”
“I watched The Princess and the Frog before a game last year. And I got a shutout that night, so I think Tiana might be another lucky charm.”
She shakes her head, causing her shiny dark hair to fall over her shoulder. I reach up and thread my hand through the silky strands. It’s so damn silky.
Farrah closes her eyes, savoring the moment. “You like to have your hair played with?” I ask.
She nods.
“Sit on the floor, between my legs.”
Farrah’s eyes widen but she obeys, taking a throw pillow with her and sitting on it. She rests her shoulders on the back of the couch and my legs surround her. Once her head is nestled between my thighs, I’m wondering how smart of a decision this was, but I push the thought away and grab the pink brush I see on the coffee table. I begin brushing her hair with smooth, long strokes. When it’s free of tangles, I replace the brush with my hands. First, I run them through the tresses, then I focus on her scalp, digging in gently with the pads of my fingers. She closes her eyes and allows her head to fall back with a contented sigh.
I continue the massage until she’s fully limp and relaxed. I slowly bring my hands to a stop and rest them on her shoulders. She doesn’t move. I lean forward so my face is hovering over hers and her eyes flutter open. They’re hazy like she just woke up from a deep sleep.
She doesn’t look away when her hands move up to my face, and she pulls me closer until my lips are on hers. It’s strange at first, kissing her upside down, but our lips seem to fit perfectly at any angle.
She parts her lips, and I take our kiss deeper, enjoying the soft sounds she’s making.
I realize then that I’m never going to get my other three questions in tonight. But I can’t bring myself to be mad about it.