Clipped by Love (Bellevue Bullies #2) (46 page)

“That you fucked,” I add, and he shrugs.

“Yeah, but that’s it. It was only sex. She’s a friend, that’s all,” he states before letting my hands go to cup my face. Running his thumb down my jaw, he smiles the smile I love before he says, “I don’t look at her and see what I see when I look at you. She isn’t you. You’re my kind of special.”

Of course, I try to ignore all the mushy stuff because it makes me feel weird things, but his words do leave me breathless. My main concern is the first thing he said, so I ask, “What do you see?”

“All of that, and you’re hung up on that?”

“Yes! What do you see?”

He shakes his head before looking away, a grin on his face. “Don’t ask things you aren’t ready for, Baylor,” he says, and before I can demand he tell me, he goes on. “Just know that you’re it. You’re the only girl I see, ever. It’s been like that since the beach. I promise you.”

Looking deep into his eyes, I can see that he isn’t going to tell me. Not until I’m ready, which who knows when the hell that will be. Watching him, I ask, “And I’ll be ready when?”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

I smile. “Yeah, but from what you’re telling me, I’m your ridiculous.”

He nods before pressing his nose to mine. “True, but to answer your question, you’ll be ready when I know you won’t run from what I’m feeling.”

“Which is?”

“A fucking lot,” he answers, his eyes boring into mine. Each syllable of those words slams into my chest and scares me to the core. He holds my gaze, and I can’t breathe because I’m pretty sure “a fucking lot” is way more than I could ever fathom. And also something I have no control over. “I don’t want anyone but you. I mean, come on, Baylor, I’ve been begging you to admit you like me for months. I’ve been challenging you just to get you to keep talking to me. I think it’s safe to say, you’re the only one I’m looking at.”

Closing my eyes, I nuzzle my nose against his and whisper, “I don’t like this feeling.”

“Jealousy? Something you can’t control, eh?”

Grinning, I nod. He gets me on so many levels. “Truly.”

“But it’s a feeling that I really like because it means you actually feel for me.”

“Well, duh,” I say, opening my eyes to meet his. “If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be with you.”

Brushing his lips against mine, he nods. “Yeah, but you could be in it for the sex. I am the only one who can make you come.”

“True,” I say lightly as he grins against my lips. Closing my eyes again, because it’s easier when I don’t look at him to admit things, I say, “But this is more than sex. I know it’s only been a few days, but you know that, right?”

His nose moves against mine as he nods. “Yeah, Bay, I know.”

“That’s why I got so mad.”

“I know.”

Holding his gaze, I say something I hardly ever say to anyone and truly mean. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he says softly, and for some reason my heart soars, but then fear brings it back down in a crashing heap. What the hell is going on here? How does he know me so well, so quickly? And why aren’t I trying harder to keep myself from him? Above all, why do I feel like I am completely losing control of everything? Why is it when I look in his eyes, I’m lost, and, to be honest, I don’t want to be found? I love that feeling. The completely unrestrained feeling of not having to feel anything but him, it’s beautiful. I don’t have to worry about what I’m doing, where I’m at, or how I think. He gets me and it’s mind-boggling, and I never want to feel anything again but that feeling. As his hand tangles in my hair and his mouth devours mine, I think I know the answer to all my questions.

I just don’t want to admit it.

“J
ust leave me behind!”

Running backward, I laugh as Baylor trudges up the hill. Watching her, I smile even though I’m a little upset that it’s gotten so cool so quickly because she traded in her short, naughty running shorts for a pair of very tight black leggings. But I guess I’m not all that upset. She’s hot as hell in anything she wears. With her hair in a braid down her shoulder, she’s sweating profusely, but her lipstick hasn’t moved an inch. She looks pitiful though, huffing and puffing, and I want to throw her over my shoulder and run her up the hill, but I know she’ll deck me one.

“Babe, it’s cool, you’re not slowing me down.”

“I am,” she huffs. “I hate running.”

I nod. “I’ve noticed. Come on, we’ll go at your pace,” I say, trotting beside her.

“Ugh, just go.”

“No, come on, let’s talk,” I suggest, but she glares.

“Don’t talk to me, I can’t breathe,” she says, shaking her head, and I hold in my laughter. For someone who is fast as hell on ice, she sure sucks at running. We’ve been doing this every morning for the last week, and she still hates it. She’s so determined though, she won’t give up, and she wakes up at the butt-crack of dawn to go with me. I’ve been doing this for the last year and I love it, but it’s obvious she’d rather take a puck to the mouth. She’s still here though, running her little heart out, and I can’t help but admire her.

“You’re doing great,” I urge her, but I don’t think she believes me. She waves me off, and I decide that I’m gonna stay quiet as we make it up the hill. When we reach the top, I check my watch and grin. “You shaved two minutes off your time. Great job.”

When I look over at her, she’s lying face first in the dirt. “Yay.”

Laughing, I drop down next to her, moving her hair out of her face. “You’re adorable, Bay.”

“I beg to differ,” she moans as she rolls over, gasping for air. “I feel like I really pushed myself, and all I got was two minutes?”

“That’s a lot,” I remind her. “You’re doing awesome.”

“I’m dying.”

Leaning over, I kiss her dirty nose and smile down at her. “I’m proud of you.”

That has her lips pulling up at the sides before she brings me down for a quick kiss. “Thanks, babe.”

Gasping in mock horror, I tease, “Holy shit, you called me
babe
.”

Shaking her head, she sucks in a deep breath. “All the endorphins that are rushing to my head have made me stupid,” she informs me, but I see the sneaky grin on her face. Slowly but surely, she is relaxing around me, opening up more, and it’s such a lovely thing to see. I was sure when the shit with Skylar happened, she was going to dump me, but she didn’t. She opened up to me instead, told me how she felt, and now I feel like we are getting somewhere. She still wants to keep us a secret, even though Markus almost walked in on her giving me a blow job the other day. But hey, we’ll keep up with the charade if it makes her happy. I think it’s dumb, but she needs that control. She needs to know that everyone will respect her and not bring what happens off the ice onto it, and I can respect that.

Sucking in a deep breath, she looks over at me and says, “Big game tonight.”

“Yup,” I say with a nod. “Jude might try to stop in. He’s got a game in St Louis.”

“Aw, that’s cool,” she says, looking over at me. “Is your mom coming?”

“Yeah and Lucy and baby Angie.”

“That’s awesome,” she says, letting out a long breath.

Looking over at her, I ask, “Do you want to meet my mom?”

She grins. “How would that go?”

I shrug. “I’d tell her that your name is Baylor, I know that,” I say with a wink.

“Well, duh, but like would you tell her we are dating?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I don’t know,” she says, sucking in another breath. “Maybe.”

“Okay, we’ll think about it. We can decide after the game.”

“Okay,” she agrees, and then she looks away. “Is your dad coming?”

I shrug. “I don’t talk to him, so I doubt he’ll come.”

“When was the last time you spoke to him?”

Leaning against my knees, I look over at her. “The day he almost hit my mom, Jude almost killed him, and I lost all respect for him. I want nothing from him.”

“Wow,” she says, sitting up and leaning into me. “You’re better off without him.”

“Yeah,” I agree as I wrap an arm around her. Kissing her sweaty forehead, I wipe my mouth right away since I basically kissed dirt, but I really don’t care too much. Leaning against each other, we watch as the sun slowly peeks out from behind the hills, and I can’t think of a better thing to do at five in the morning. Sleep doesn’t even come close to this. But I hope what I’m about to ask doesn’t ruin our morning.

“Can I ask you something about your mom?”

I feel her tense next to me as she takes in a breath. I know it’s hard for her to say it, but she says, “Sure.”

“Did you ever meet her?”

Shaking her head, she leans against her legs before wrapping her arms around them. “Nope, never.”

“Have you tried?”

Meeting my gaze, she answers, “Nope, didn’t think it was fair to my dad. He’s always loved me, she didn’t, so why bring her back into our lives?”

“Fair enough,” I say with a nod. “But do you want to meet her?”

She shrugs, looking out at the picturesque view. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m like her, but my dad says she was really weak. Needy, and I’m not like that. But then I wonder if he says that because he hates her for leaving us. He really loved her, and when she left, he was devastated. But he says that I made it all better.”

I don’t say anything as I watch her. I can see that this is difficult, and I almost want to stop her, but she goes on, “I don’t know what it’s like to have a mom, but I do sometimes miss having that person to talk to. That’s probably why I’m so shut off to everyone. When I had a problem, I had my dad, and he’s emotionally inept about girlie things, so I was on my own. I guessed about a lot of things, and others, I just pushed away and didn’t deal with.”

“I’m sorry, Baylor,” is the only thing I can think to say, and when she looks back at me, she shrugs.

“It made me stronger; no need to apologize. I don’t feel sorry for myself, and you shouldn’t either. We are stronger for the people who leave us, you know? Being able to live without them just shows how much better we are. No one can hold us back but ourselves, and I, for one, am proud of the person I am. Yeah, I’m a little obsessed with winning and I’m a control freak, but I don’t need someone to love me.”

Reaching out, I cup her face and I feel horrible for the little girl who didn’t have a mother to love her, but I admire the gorgeous woman that is before me. Yeah, she’s socially inept like her dad, and she may have her issues, but she has quickly become everything to me.

“But you want to be loved,” I supply, and she looks away, her face heating with color.

“I’ve never been loved by anyone but my daddy, so I don’t know what it feels like. But yeah, I want to be loved by someone who deserves me. Who can deal with me,” she adds with a laugh before looking back at me, her eyes full of the need to be loved, but she just doesn’t know it. She doesn’t know how.

It’s the perfect time to say that I love her, but she pops up and stretches her hands up above her head. “Okay, enough feeling-sharing, that took a lot.”

Laughing, I nod my head as I stand. “You did good.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, sure, okay. Can you stop looking at me like that?”

I chuckle. “Like what?” I ask innocently.

“Like you want to wrap your arms around me and kiss the stuffing out of me,” she says, her face and neck turning red.