Hendrix: A Raleigh Raptor Novel

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Hendrix: A Raleigh Raptor Novel Page 11

by Whiskey, Samantha


  “So tell me what you do for a living, Savannah.” Mom hauled the step stool out of the pantry.

  “Hold on, Mom. I’ll get whatever you need to reach. And no interrogating Savannah.” There was a very real danger of them both getting attached, and well, we’d agreed that there would be no attaching. “Can you take him?” I asked the gorgeous redhead next to me.

  She nodded, but tugged her lip between her teeth. “I’ve never held a baby.”

  “Well, I’m happy to assist with your first time.” A corner of my mouth lifted in a smirk.

  She scoffed, but her cheeks flushed. “Hand him over.”

  I lifted Hunter from my chest and put him in the same position on hers. “Here, just lean back a little and—yep, like that. Just remember to support his head if he squirms.”

  Hunter settled against her chest with minimal fuss, falling back to sleep.

  “He smells good.” Savannah smiled, and my heart skipped, then thundered. She was so incredibly beautiful.

  “Just give him an hour and he won’t,” I promised.

  “How do you do it so easily?” she asked as I stood.

  “Cousins. So. Many. Cousins.” I brushed a kiss over her forehead and went to help Mom.

  “You look happy,” Mom said quietly so only I could hear her.

  “I am happy,” I answered, handing her the frying pan she’d been reaching for.

  “She have anything to do with it?” Mom nodded toward Savannah, a knowing smile on her face.

  “Uh…” I rubbed the back of my neck and debated the merits of lying to my mother. It was cruel to get her hopes up that I’d settle down, but she was right. “Yeah. Maybe.” That was a half-assed, bullshit answer, but it was all I had.

  “Well, you should yeah, maybe a little more. Looks good on you.” She cracked eggs into a mixing bowl.

  I glanced toward Savannah, and my breath caught. She was whispering something to Hunter, her fingers tracing a lazy pattern on his back, her expression so serene that I couldn’t help but take out my phone and snap a picture.

  She looked so good, so happy with a baby that my mind tripped into another dimension where I imagined what she’d look like holding my baby. What it would be like to see that contentment on her face every day, to focus my life on making her completely, deliriously happy because her joy was mine.

  You can’t fall for her. The thought slammed into me at the same exact moment she lifted her eyes to mine, flashing me a brilliant smile before turning her attention back to Hunter.

  A relationship between us was impossible. She wasn’t ready for anything that would tie her down, and I’d never had a relationship last longer than the produce in my refrigerator. I wasn’t good for her—except in bed, and she wasn’t just out of my league, she was in a whole different sport. Smart, driven women recognized me for the trouble I was and stayed far away, yet this one had put herself firmly in my path. And even all those things couldn’t compare to the biggest obstacle to anything real developing.

  “What is it?” Mom asked quietly. “What aren’t you telling me, Hendrix?”

  “Her dad is my coach.” My chest ached as I whispered the truth to the only person I knew wouldn’t judge me for it. “He’ll kill me if he finds out. Or worse, trade me. It can’t last. It shouldn’t even have lasted this long.”

  “Hmmm.” She cracked another egg. “You love this girl?”

  I blinked, ripping my eyes from Savannah’s profile to look at Mom, who peered up at me with raised eyebrows. “It’s a little early for that.”

  “Not if that’s Savannah Goodman, it’s not.” She went back to cracking the eggs. “I might be getting a little forgetful, but I listen when you talk, Hendrix, and that girl has been in your stories for years. People grow up, change, grow apart…or grow together. I’d guess this is a case of the latter. Seems a shame to waste something rare because you’re afraid of what people will think.” She finished the eighteen-pack and reached for the whisk.

  “Not people, Mom. My coach. It’s his number one rule—hands off Savannah.” And my hands had most definitely been on her. They’d been all over her, and just the thought of touching her again had my palms itching for the chance.

  She picked up the bowl and headed for the sink.

  “What are you doing?”

  She lifted her brows, tilting the bowl so the eggs raced for the edge. “We can’t very well enjoy breakfast knowing that I broke all those eggs.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” I took the bowl and set it back on the counter, checking to make sure Savannah’s attention was anywhere but on us. She was still firmly engrossed in Hunter.

  “You don’t be ridiculous,” Mom shook her finger at me. “The eggs are already broken. Happiness isn’t something that comes along for everyone, Hendrix, and you and I both know just how fast it can be taken away. I have no regrets about the twenty years I had with your father before that drunk driver took the rest away.” She shook her head.

  “I know.” They’d had the fairytale right up until the very end.

  “The eggs are already broken, Hendrix. You already crossed that line, let the horse out of the barn—”

  “I get it,” I said with a laugh.

  “Be a shame not to see where it takes you. That’s all I’m saying. Girl looks good with a baby.” She whipped the eggs.

  “Yeah. She looks good with a career in sports management too.” There wasn’t much that didn’t look good on Savannah.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, was there some rule that says you can’t have both?” She tilted her head and stared me down despite the fact that she was twelve inches shorter than me. “Honestly, you raise a boy to chase a football, and he forgets how to chase anything else. And you can tell Weston I said the same about him. He needs a good woman, too.” She shot me a hard side-eye. “Best thing that boy’s father ever did for him was put him in public school. Lord only knows how he would have turned out if he hadn’t had a little perspective. Not that you two ever managed to stay out of trouble. Pretty sure I was on Principal Mann’s speed dial while you were in high school.”

  This time my laughter caught Savannah’s attention, and Mom promptly changed the subject.

  It was late afternoon before we headed back to Raleigh, and dusk as we approached the city limits. Every mile we’d driven felt like a countdown, bringing us closer to our demise.

  “Is London still pissed?” I asked, seeing Savannah check a text message.

  “She is. She and Caz got everything moved out while we were in Richmond, so at least I know she didn’t kill him.”

  “I still can’t believe that Caz Foster is her brother.” The guy was one of the fastest skaters in the NHL, with an even faster temper to match it. Pretty sure he’d racked up half his team’s penalty minutes last season from dropping gloves. “I thought Bangor was trying to snap him up. His rookie contract was up at the end of last season, right?”

  She nodded. “I guess the Reapers made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

  “They offered his little sister a job.” If I’d had a move to secure Shell’s future, I would have, too.

  “Exactly. He’s always been overprotective of London, especially since—" She shook her head. “And you can’t blame her for keeping her family private. Hell, I’ve known you for years, been sleeping with you for weeks, and I didn’t know you even had a sister.” She poked me in the arm. “She’s pretty great. Greg and your mom, too. Hunter is scrumptious.”

  I grinned. “They’re the best. And let’s be honest, when I have you alone, I’m not exactly focused on filling you in on the family tree,” I teased. “I keep my family life private, just like London. They deserve that.”

  “I get that.” She started to speak, then stopped herself.

  “What?” I glanced at her.

  “I’m just really glad you took me. You know practically everything there is to know about mine, so it was nice to get to meet yours.” She looked away. “We’re almost back.”

 
“Yeah. We are.” My stomach sank. We were at the end of the two weeks we’d extended our agreement to. Suddenly, this very simple proposition wasn’t so simple…or maybe it never had been, and I’d been too desperate to touch her to realize it.

  She sighed, long and hard.

  Could I do it? Let her go? Pretend the last two weeks had never happened? Could I see her at the team events, pass by her at the club and not pull her into my arms? Could I see her with someone else?

  My hands tightened on the wheel. God help the next man who tried to touch her. I’d break every bone in his goddamned body.

  But every day we spent together was another day closer to Coach finding out what we’d done—what I’d done.

  I flipped my turn signal on and switched lanes, pulling into a rest stop.

  “What are we doing?” Savannah asked as I parked far from the other cars.

  I turned in my seat, took her face in my hands, and sealed my mouth over hers. Heat licked through my veins with just that touch, but the ache in my heart eased as she melted into the kiss.

  My tongue took her mouth with deep, rhythmic strokes that had her whimpering in seconds, and then I slowed it down. If I wasn’t careful, I’d pull her into my lap—spectators be damned.

  “Hendrix?” she asked against my mouth between kisses.

  “I can’t get enough of you.” The truth was freeing, even as it damned us both. “Every kiss is better, every time I slide inside you, it’s hotter. The idea of leaving you at your apartment and never having this again—never having you, is…” I shook my head.

  “I know,” she whispered. “It’s the same for me. I wake up and wonder when I’ll see you—or on the good days, you’re already there. I always want you. I’m always ready for you. You cock an eyebrow at me and I’m wet.”

  “You walk in the room, and I’m fucking hard,” I admitted, my cock straining against the seam of my shorts in agreement. It was way more than that, but I concentrated on what I could put into words.

  “What are we going to do?” She rested her forehead against mine.

  “Are you ready to end it?” The words nearly caught in my throat.

  She shook her head.

  “Me either.” We weren’t a long-term couple. Logically, we shouldn’t even have been a short-term one. We weren’t compatible anywhere but the bedroom. We bickered. We fought. She wasn’t the kind to follow my career around, and I wasn’t the kind to give it up. All we had was right now.

  And I wanted more of right now.

  “Let’s give it a month,” I whispered. By the end of that, we’d either have throttled each other or fucked each other out of our systems, right?

  “One month, total?” She brushed her lips over mine.

  “One month from today.” I’d take whatever I could get.

  “One month from today,” she agreed.

  I kissed her hard and long, leaving us both struggling to control our breathing as I broke away and pulled the car back onto the highway.

  “London and Caz are at the apartment,” she said as we came up on Raleigh.

  Fuck, I wasn’t going to be able to keep my hands off her, and anyone with a brain would take one look at us and know. “Detour to my house?”

  “Your house.” Her smile was slow and seductive as she put her hand on my thigh, sending my dick into overdrive.

  We made it.

  Barely.

  12

  Savannah

  "You’re slower tonight," Drew said as we headed off the practice mat.

  I glared at my Krav Maga trainer but clamped down on any argument I might have posed. He was right.

  He held up his hands in an innocent gesture, his smile lighting up his dark-chocolate eyes. "Not saying you can't kick my ass," he said as he walked me toward the front door. "Just saying I think you need to take it easy tonight."

  I nodded, feeling the weakness in my muscles. Not to mention that my head was a little bit fuzzy. Either it was the lack of sleep due to my massive study and class schedule, or I was coming down with a cold. Either way, I definitely needed to listen to Drew.

  "Thanks for another great lesson," I said, putting all the gratitude I could into the words. I’d taken up Krav Maga after a really bad encounter with a fuckboy at a club. I'd gotten into a situation that wasn't easy to get out of, but thank God London had been there to run interference.

  If she hadn't? An icy shudder raced down my spine.

  I didn't have to worry about that now. Or ever again. Thanks to Drew.

  He nodded and held the door open for me. “Promise you’ll rest tonight?" he asked. "Don't hit up the clubs. Drink water not vodka," he teased.

  "Sure thing, Dad," I teased right back. He flipped me off as he closed the door. I flipped him off right back but paired it with a loving smile. Drew had become such a great friend, and I absolutely adored him.

  I spun back around, keys in hand as I headed toward my car, and stopped short. The breath froze in my lungs, my heart swelling up to twice its size. Almost enough to clear the cobwebs from my brain.

  Hendrix leaned against my driver side door, hands casually stuffed inside the pockets of his black athletic pants, his dark blue T-shirt hugging every one of his muscles.

  "Hey there, Butterfly," he said, and just the sound of his voice washed over me with warm shivers.

  I couldn't help but smile up at him as I reached him. "Hey there yourself, Hollywood," I fired back, but it didn't hold the sass it normally did. Dammit, I was off. I did not feel well.

  “Figured I’d return the favor from when you showed up at my rowing session,” he said, smiling before he studied me a bit harder. He furrowed his brow, and his fingers flew up to push back some hair that had escaped from my braid. "Are you feeling all right?"

  I bit my bottom lip, contemplating telling him I felt fine. I definitely didn't want to miss out on a chance to see him. This past month had been a been a wildfire of smoking hot kisses, secret lunch dates where I couldn’t stop laughing, and that contented sort of intimacy that only happened between coming down from a wave of pure bliss right before starting up again.

  But I also knew what my body was telling me, what Drew was telling me, and I needed to slow the fuck down.

  "I haven't slept much this week," I finally admitted. "I'm racing towards finals, and I have a study load that's enough to kill me." I tried to joke, but Hendrix wasn't laughing.

  My heart sank as he nodded and motioned his head to the side. I had really wanted to spend time with him tonight but I didn't have the energy for what our wild, all-night sex marathons usually required of us.

  "Passenger seat," he said, and I tilted my head.

  "What?" I shook my keys at him. “I drove here.”

  He took the keys from my hand, and motioned to the other side of my car again. "I'll drive you home."

  "What about your car?" I asked, arching a brow at him.

  Hendrix smirked. "You can bring me back tomorrow. "

  "Oh, Hendrix," I said, once again wondering if I should bite my tongue. We only had so much time left in our little arrangement, and I seriously didn’t want to waste a second of it. "I really appreciate the gesture. But I'm totally capable of driving myself. And I just…I really don't have the energy tonight. I want to hang out with you, I swear, I just don't want you to be disappointed because I’m not feeling well —"

  "Savannah," Hendrix cut me off mid-ramble. He smoothed a hand over my cheek. "I just want to be with you."

  The words were said in such a casual way that I wondered why my heart hiccupped at their meaning. Because what was between us…was just sex, right? We'd always agreed it was just sex, despite how many addendums we’d added to our time-limit contract. And if we went back to my house now and didn't have sex…

  I shook my head, forcing the thoughts from my mind.

  We were friends.

  We might fight and banter like the best of them, but we were friends. Friends who had wild, insanely awesome sex. But that didn't
mean we couldn't hang out together in a nonsexual way. I was over analyzing things. Just another sign of me being totally exhausted. So, instead of voicing any of the racing thoughts in my head, I rounded my car and sank into my own passenger seat.

  Hendrix drove to my apartment, and while I showered, he ran to the corner market and snagged soup and snacks and everything we needed for a proper Netflix binge session. When I came out with my hair dried and my softest PJs on, I couldn't help that my heart was in my throat just a little bit.

  Hendrix Malone wasn't known for his Netflix and chill nights. But then again, I had learned a lot about Hendrix over the last few weeks that I hadn’t—nor the media hadn’t—ever known. The trip to his hometown, watching who he was around his family, had been so revealing it was like finding the last piece to a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle. I would never have guessed Hendrix had grown up struggling. Somehow I’d assumed he’d always had money. Now I knew better. Knew how important his career was to him, beyond the dream. His family. He had this ingrained sense of responsibility when it came to taking care of them.

  Something tugged at the center of my chest, but I locked it down.

  I scarfed down the soup, the calories burned from my class enough to make me look like a starving, wild animal. But afterward, when we cleaned up and settled into my bed with the TV on, I felt slightly human again.

  Once the movie started, Hendrix shifted beside me, tucking me into his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. His touch wasn’t to seduce or revv me up—though the innocent gesture kicked up my heart rate—but more to comfort me. Hold me. Soothe me.

  A prickle of fear sliced through the settled contentment in my heart, my mind racing with accusations. How could I enjoy this? How could I want this? How could I get more of this? The questions plagued me throughout the movie, so much that I felt like I was spiraling down a dark tunnel I’d never claw my way out of.

  I took a deep breath, settling heavier into his warm body, breathing him in to quiet my mind. And when I focused on nothing else, his soothing, intoxicating scent lulled me into a deep sleep quicker than a Bob Ross episode.

 

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