Eight Months Ago
Brackenridge Off-campus Apartments
"How was practice?" I pulled him inside my apartment. He turned his heavy-lidded gaze toward me in a way that made my stomach flip, flutter and bottom out. God, his eyes were such an amazing shade of blue…
"A beating."
"Yeah, seems like you’re a little worn out." I gave him a smile as I folded and refolded my hands together. My heart skipped. I took in a deep, calming breath.
He shrugged. "I promised to stop by."
"You didn't have to." I was hoping you wanted to.
His mouth pulled down on one side as a strange expression flickered across his features.
I swallowed the urge to ask him what was wrong. Like Kanami said, a guy who finds reasons to stop by, text, call. I couldn’t be reading his signals wrong…right?
"It’s become something of a habit."
I frowned as my heart tripped. A heavier beat sent a pang through my system. I pushed it aside. "I found Thai food."
He cocked his head and gave me that heart-stopping grin.
"I was hungry and figured you were ah, coming by." Words stumbled out of my mouth as I tried to ignore the warm rush of blood to my face. "I could, you know, share. It's kind of a lot of food."
"This is starting to feel like a special occasion." One eyebrow quirked up.
"No, not uh"—I tried to remember how to breathe— "not much of one?"
"Not much of one?"
"Life should have more special occasions in general. But that’s a story for another time. Do you want food or not?" I huffed and practically ran to the kitchen.
He followed. I felt him, his presence. Smelled the woodsy musk of his cologne with the faint note of leather. Part of me ached, hungered, down to the core of my being…to touch him, hold him. To feel his arms curled around me.
"I'm torn between asking what 'found Thai food' means, exactly? And just being grateful for small miracles." His voice rumbled; so familiar now. Warm, deep, throaty. It made my insides wobble and start to melt.
"If a food truck counts as a miracle," I laughed as I pulled the covered bowls from the microwave. Then turned to ask him to grab a few paper towels…Only to get caught in his gaze again. And I couldn’t help it.
I kissed him.
Awkward and on tiptoe, I just pressed my lips to his. He leaned down, his mouth slanted over mine, and kissed me back. I clutched his arm to keep upright. His hand behind my neck ignited a series of electric charges through my chest, urging my heart to beat faster.
The kiss broke. I watched his face, waiting to see any reaction, but the giddiness of him returning my kiss bubbled through my veins like a sugar-filled caffeinated soda.
He pulled away, a soft smile curved his lips. "Makes up for all the hell…" His face crumpled into a scowl.
"Maddox?"
He shook his head and picked up one of the bowls. "Just hungry."
The effervescent bubbling tapered off and then fell. I sat quietly beside him on the floor. Our bowls on the coffee table, we ate without a word—every passing silent moment gnawed at my certainty. But he’s here. We kissed. This is right.
An aching feeling bit into my stomach and scratched nails over the surface of my heart.
I stood and took the bowls back to the kitchen.
Paused to draw in a few deep breaths before returning to the small living area.
He’d moved to the couch, his keys and phone on the table.
I willed words to move from my brain to my tongue as I sat beside him.
"Your first preseason game is coming up. "
"Away game," he grumbled. Then, softer, "You don’t like football."
I rolled my eyes. "I want to work in sports. And I like football. There are just other sports I like better." Mostly because my father and brother are too obsessed with it. And are always too busy to come to my games.
"Same thing."
I huffed. "Maybe I’ll like it more watching you play."
His eyes practically glowed. "Mm. You’re probably hopeless."
I shoved his shoulder. He chuckled and didn't even pretend I could move him.
"Fine, I won’t watch you play. Is that what you want?"
His eyes narrowed as his mouth turned down. "I don't get to have"— he pushed hair behind my ear—"what I want."
I didn't understand what he meant, and I didn't want to. I took a rushed, heady breath as hot and cold flashed through my body. I wanted him, wanted to be with him. To be his. This is my chance.
Before he could pull away, I leaned into him, pressing a soft, slow kiss to his lips.
He folded his arm around me, pulling me closer as our mouths met.
Heat sunk through my skin, settling deep in my abdomen.
Simmering, bubbling, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pushing him back into the cushions of the sofa.
His hands moved up to my shoulders, holding me against him as his tongue slipped into my mouth. I slid over his lap and kissed him back with everything I had. My skin ignited, my body ached. It was almost a relief when his fingers grazed the curve of my breast.
My heart soared as the rest of my senses were overrun. The sweet and spicy flavor of him, the woodsy and green scent of his musk. I crushed myself to him, delighting in the feel of his embrace. Ice washed over my skin even as fire spread beneath it.
He’d been so protective, had done so much for me in the few months we’d known each other. He’d sent me flowers when my All-American selection had been announced. He'd been there when I confronted Ash.
I wanted him to know how I felt about him. That despite the circumstances—and our giant step back to "start over as friends"—I was falling for him. Hard. And I didn’t want to stop or think or be cautious.
I wanted to risk it all and be crazy in love with him.
His hand cupped the curve of my rear and squeezed. I took a chance and slid my hand down to the front of his jeans. Working the zipper apart, I traced his hard length through the fabric of his boxers. My body churned into a mix of cold and electric thrills.
Our kiss broke. He groaned as his forehead dipped to my shoulder. His teeth nipped at my collarbone. I worked my palm up and down, gently grasping his erection. "Ella," he panted.
His hand found my stomach, slipping under my shirt. His knuckles brushed teasing flutters up to my chest. He palmed the half-covered breast, one finger rubbing at the satin over my nipple.
Shivers thrilled through my skin and collected in my core. It throbbed. Wanting…
I reached for him, dipping my hand into his shorts. My fingers wrapping around the soft, fleshy tip of his arousal. I pushed my hand deeper, cupping his girth, stroking it in a slow, deliberate rhythm.
A low rumbling sound reverberated from his chest. Dangerous, wild. I wanted him to come undone.
"Maddox…"