Second Down (Moving the Chains Book 2) (25 page)

              “Well, uh...I didn’t wanna pressure you. Didn’t want you to think it was a setup or anything. I just figured you’d come when you were ready.”

              Even though I know, I damn well know it shouldn’t, his words piss me off. “Uh, I was ready. For bed. I was told to leave. I had to endure them making out with me present for what felt like a goddamned eternity. It was nauseating.”

              Rob steps forward and wraps his big arms around me, nuzzling his face into the top of my head. “I’m sorry. I wish you would’ve come sooner.”

              “I would have if I’d have been let in on the end game, but I didn’t realize it was expected of me.”

              Rob lifts his head and pulls back, arching a brow at me in silent question.

              “Well, apparently, I’m supposed to be servicing you now. You know, taking the edge off before States tomorrow.”

              “Did he fucking say that to you?” The anger in his eyes turns them a stormy shade of blue.

              “Oh, he’s not the only one.” I’m still kind of weirded out by it.

              Rob blinks at me for a few minutes, clearly still trying to clear the fog from his half-asleep brain. “What?”

              “I ran into Coach on my way over here. He said not to keep you up too late because he needs you for tomorrow, then sent me on my way with a wink.”

              “Aww, Jesus. Evie, I’m so sorry. You know I don’t expect anything like that.” He moves to pull me back into him, but his words spark the same suspicion and anxiety that’s been plaguing me for weeks. I push him away.

              “Yeah, I’m well aware.” I storm toward the made bed on the far side of the room, clutching my book with it’s perfectly imperfect characters and happily ever after to my chest.

              “Wait. You’re mad at me because I don’t expect you to come in here and give me a blowjob? Help me out here, Evie. What’s the problem?”

              The night before the State Championships is not the time to go into this. I set my things on the night stand and turn down the blankets on what would have been Alex’s bed. “Nothing, Rob. No problem. Go back to sleep. I’m just gonna take over Alex’s bed and read for a while, okay?”

              He’s behind me before I can blink, wrapping his arms around my waist and nuzzling his face into my hair. “No, definitely not okay. I don’t want us to go to bed angry. And I absolutely don’t want you sleeping in another bed when we have the chance to sleep together.”

              His words tug at my heart. I’m willing to take whatever I can get, however small. I abandon my book to the nightstand, wordlessly moving to get into his rumpled bed.

              Rob crawls in after me. Turning off the lamp on the nightstand, he plunges the room into total darkness. I can hear him adjusting the pillows to his liking. When he’s comfortable on his back, he opens his arms for me to snuggle against him, then pulls the blankets up over us before wrapping his arms around me securely.

              Kissing my forehead, he inhales deeply, my body moving along with his chest. “Night, baby.”

              My voice sounds weaker than I’d like it to. “Yeah, okay.”

              I tamp down my disappointment with cold, hard facts. He needs to get a good night’s rest before the big game tomorrow. I need more time to get my thoughts and suspicions lined up to make a rational argument if it could ever possibly be called that. Nothing about our situation feels rational or...normal.

              “I’m sorry Coach and Jeremy made you feel like nothing more than a call girl, Evie. You know you mean so much more to me than that, right?”

              Sitting up, I pat his chest lightly before rolling over to face away from him, hopefully shutting down this discussion for the night. “I know, Rob.”

              He doesn’t take the hint, stubborn mule that he is. Instead of leaving me to my side of the bed, he brushes all of my hair off my shoulder and neck before sliding right up behind me, aligning his chest with my back and nuzzling his scratchy playoff beard into the bare skin that he’d cleared of my curls.

            
 
“Evie, please don’t turn away from me.” His whispered words cut through my dismal thoughts, but bring tears to the surface of my eyes in spite of his intent. “I love you so much. I can’t stand it when you’re upset with me or upset at all, really. I should’ve told Jeremy no, and I’m sorry. I just...it’s hard to know what you want me to do or say when people assume things about us because I know you don’t want anyone to know what really happened with the attack. And I don’t want to give them any reason to suspect. I didn’t mean anything by telling the guys you were coming here tonight, I swear.”

That’s just enough to send me over the edge as the first sob slips unbidden from my throat.

“Baby, please don’t cry. I’m so sorry.” He buries his stubbly face into the skin at my neck even as more tears slide down my cheeks. “I’m just so damn selfish. I wanted you here with me. I sleep better when you’re in my arms.”  

“Oh, is that all?” Another sob cuts off by my bitter laughter. I already know the answer to my own question.

His low chuckle sends hot breath skittering across my skin and reverberations through my back. “No, that’s not all. I wish I could wake up with you in my arms every morning, so whenever the opportunity presents itself, I want to grab it with both hands.”

Alyssa had explained the situation in much the same way. The only difference between our rooms is that her and Jeremy are undoubtedly having sex right now, while I’m the only one even remotely contemplating what should be happening in this room.

My boyfriend treats me like his broken little sister, not his girlfriend. How was I supposed to tell the difference?

Rob’s entire body stiffens behind me, and if the lack of air over my neck is any indication, he’s holding his breath, as well. “Evie, is that really the way you feel? You think I treat you like my sister?”

Well, shit. Hadn’t realized I’d said that aloud.

“Baby, why? Why would you think that?”

He’s not dropping it as I intended, so might as well come clean with...some of it. Ok, most of it. It’s not going to get better if I just keep pretending nothing is wrong. “You haven’t even kissed me since I walked into this room, except on the forehead. I know you’re trying to be sensitive because of what happened, and don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that you’re such a good guy, but that was months ago, Rob. I still don’t remember it. I’m fine, honestly. I just want to move on and be normal, not a victim. I’m glad you don’t think of me as your call girl, and frankly what we do together is no one’s business, but I feel like a liar all the time. I feel like you’d rather just jerk off than ask me to do anything for you or with you, and it honestly makes me feel like a worthless girlfriend.”

My eyes have adjusted to the darkness of the room, but the weight of my words seems to sap even the dimmest light from around us. Seconds stretch into minutes, until my heart can’t take the deafening silence any longer. I open my mouth to take it all back, because dammit, he doesn’t need to hear this the night before the biggest game of the season, but the sound dies in my throat at the softest whisper.

“Evie…”  

The heartache those two syllables carry weighs down the air in the room even more until I feel as though I can’t take a full breath. I’m on the verge of suffocation when the sensation of Rob’s open mouth against the sensitive skin below my ear pulls me back from the brink.

“Evie, no…”  I hear the tears in his voice, but the damp heat of his tongue against my skin steals away my thoughts and causes an involuntary shudder of anticipation to wrack my body.

A deep sigh of hot breath against my neck raises goosebumps on my conversely warm skin, and I shiver once more in his arms.

“Honey, is this too much?”  Lips move against my neck, but thankfully he doesn’t pull away.

“No.”  I barely choke out the frustrated word, because God, it’s definitely not too much. It’s not enough.

He tentatively tastes my neck, his tongue darting out to discover uncharted territory. His hesitation is obvious in the tense way his muscles cradle my entire body, as if he’s afraid one wrong move will send me scrambling for escape. “I think I have to add another favorite to my list of you.”

“What’s that?”

“My favorite flavor is your skin.”  His lips and tongue begin to feast on my neck, only pausing to mumble against me, “I’m so sorry, honey. There’s no playbook for us, and most days, I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, but I swear to God, I’ll never stop trying to be exactly what you need.”

When he continues mapping me with his tongue, overwhelming need explodes within me, and my body wrests control from my mind, forcing me to arch my back while simultaneously tilting my head at the perfect angle to offer myself up for easier access.

His trepidation melts away at my involuntary reaction and he’s transformed from an unsure explorer to a starving man. The dichotomy of his scratchy beard playing off his soft lips makes my toes curl. His hot breath and wet tongue lapping at my overly sensitive flesh send my eyes rolling into the back of my head. God, yes. More. I want more.

All the times I had to imagine this very thing to make it through an evening with Eddie is nothing like the reality. His strength is all around me, well muscled arms and chest holding me against him, but there’s no force behind it. If anything, he’s cradling me more gently than I ever would have expected from someone his size. The lips and tongue that are working over my skin aren’t frenzied in their apparent hunger, but tender in their surety.

My panting and desire are cooled the more the sensations that I’m experiencing at his touch war with the awareness of my mind between what I want and what is really happening. The intense need for his hands to roam over my body, to take away the insistent ache between my legs, is in direct contrast to the fact that his arms are stoically locked in the neutral zone, unmoving. I want nothing more than for him to mark me as his, for his teeth to sink into my flesh and override the brands that Jackson left on me, but I know Rob would never leave something so permanent, intentionally. Though I can feel every slight movement of his body and mouth against mine, I don’t detect the evidence of his own desire for me.

My body decelerates rapidly when it hits me. Rob isn’t doing this for himself; he’s only lavishing my neck because he thinks it’s what I need from him. He said so himself. He’s placating me, trying to lessen the impact of my admission about being worthless, but in the end, that’s all I’ll ever be. How could he want to make his what’s already been taken by someone else? That’s why he’s pressed to my back, not my destroyed chest. It’s why he would rather devour my neck than my mouth. Less personal, this way.

 “Evie?”  

My rigidity hasn’t gone unnoticed by him, and I’m pulled from my thoughts only to realize that he’s gone as still as I have, waiting on my word.

“Honey? You ok? Did I do something wrong? Move too fast?”

My overactive and completely unwarranted desire has clouded my judgment and rational thinking, clearly. Time to lock down this performance and hone my acting skills. Apparently, I’ve become complacent when it comes to Rob. Mistaking the safety he provides me with something more. Something that, as it turns out, just like before, can never be.

Taking a deep breath to steel my will and school my features, I roll over to face him, plastering a smile on my face that will hopefully pass as genuine in the near darkness of the room. “No, but you do need to get some sleep for tomorrow. States are kind of a big deal, and all.”

He cups my face with his large hands, sliding between my cheek and the soft pillow and tangling a bit of my hair in his fingers on the other side. “You’re kind of a big deal to me.”

I don’t get a chance to respond with the witty retort that’s on the tip of my tongue before he’s claiming my mouth with his own, kissing me deeper and with more passion than he’s shown since Homecoming. Trying to prove me wrong.

He doesn’t stop there, no. Thorough as he is, he slides a large leg over my hip, tugging me flush against him, and once again I’m pulled from his magical spell as reality comes crashing over me in waves.

Masking my heartache with the need for air, I make it a point to gasp for breath as Rob chuckles lowly, resting his forehead against mine. “Sorry, but I am wide awake now, Evie.”

Maybe his mind is, but his body is still definitely dormant. Times like this, I wish I were more naive, and not quite as aware of how things should work in situations like this. It would make it so much easier to pretend.

“Want me to tell you another story?”  He offers.

“Sure.”  It’ll be nice to relive the time when things were only mildly complicated and I genuinely enjoy hearing his perspective of our past encounters.

He readjusts to cradle my head on his bicep, wrapping his arm around to tangle his fingers in my hair, while his free hand begins a path up and down my spine with his knuckles, working his old magic. He’s trying to turn me into putty. It nearly makes me laugh out loud.

“Do you know that last year, at this exact same time, I was outside of your hotel room door, trying to work up the nerve to knock?”

My eyes snap up to meet his. “Are you messing with me, right now?”