by L. M. Carr
“Rence, you know how I felt about him. How I still feel about him. I have loved that man practically my whole life.” My chin quivers with emotion.
My brother tugs at his beard and shakes his head in disbelief, looking away with his hands on his hips.
“I love him,” I repeat, my eyes filling with unshed tears.
He looks at me. “But does he love you?”
“Yes, he does. Very much.”
I spin to see Julian standing there. Rence’s attention shifts and he growls, lunging at him, fisting his shirt. Julian remains steadfast and braces himself. If I didn’t know better, I would think he expected it. They stand eye to eye, despite my brother’s bigger build.
“Jesus Christ, Rence! What are you doing?” I scream, clawing desperately to separate the two former friends. “Get your hands off him!”
My eyes move from my brother to my lover, trying to gauge how far this altercation is going to escalate. Hearing murmurs, I look over my shoulder and see a small crowd gathering. Wes, Justin and a few colleagues emerge from the conference room.
“Please,” I whisper-shout. “People are watching. None of us need this drama. Can we please go somewhere else to talk about this?”
Dropping his hands, Rence looks at me with narrowed eyes, anger stretching across his face. I place my hand on his bicep, hoping to calm him before he rips Julian’s head off.
“You’re fucking unbelievable,” Rence spits. I accept the insult, even though I’m not entirely sure it’s directed at me.
Stepping away from Julian, my brother sidesteps me and strides toward the elevator with a sense of determination. “Follow…me,” he grits out.
Sighing, I look at Julian, whose face is apologetic, yet hard. He closes the space between us.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his hand rising to caress my face. “I’m sorry he found out this way.”
I pull away and turn my cheek before his hand touches my skin. Instead of dropping it, he slides his hand around to the nape of my neck, pulling our foreheads together. My eyelids drift closed, and I gulp down the rising emotion.
“Don’t push me away,” he whispers. “We’ll deal with this together.”
I slide my hand up to his wrist and nod slowly, tears rolling down my face.
Julian presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I’ve got you, baby. I won’t let you do this alone.”
“Thank you.” I open my eyes and dry my cheeks with my hand before pivoting to follow my brother. “Come on.” I take a deep breath through my nose, then blow it out.
I feel Julian’s hand slide into mine, our fingers intertwining. When I try to free myself from his hold, his grip only tightens.
“Together,” he states.
At his declaration, the internal battle I’ve been waging between my heart and brain is finally over, the broken pieces glued back together.
The elevator ride is beyond painful. Me trying to ignore the rising tension, Julian and Rence scowling at each other, Rence’s hands clenching and unclenching.
Again, Julian’s hand tightens on mine as he whispers, “I’ve got you.”
We’re all silent as we enter the hotel room. Displaying his indignation, my brother strides to the window and yanks the long curtain to the side, allowing the bright, Hawaiian sun to filter in. My heart pounds in my chest. I hate when my brother—my best friend—is angry…especially at me. He raises his hands and sets them on his waist, his back rising and falling in a deep breath.
While he stands there silently, I shift from one foot to the other and glance around the room. It’s a complete mess. His suitcases are haphazard, clothes picked through and discarded on the floor. By the bathroom door, I spy a smaller piece of luggage covered in a black-and-yellow cheetah print.
“Rence,” Julian calls, distracting me from my thoughts about the woman who owns the bag. “You want to talk, let’s talk.”
Slowly, I walk over to Rence and touch his arm. “I know you’re upset. I was going to tell you, but you’ve been so busy, and everything happened so fast.”
Looking down at me from the corner of his eye, his expression softens as he whispers, “Have you forgotten what he did? He broke your heart when he left. Who’s to say he won’t do it again?” His chin trembles.
Something in his pain-filled voice suggests I wasn’t the only one who suffered when Julian left.
He takes a deep breath, clears his throat, then turns to Julian, glaring at him. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but she’s my sister. You know how I feel about her.” The deep scowl on Rence’s face displays his fury. “Hurt her again, and you won’t like the consequences. Rest assured, no amount of physical therapy will fix you.”
I close my eyes briefly, remembering how I felt the day Julian’s career ended, then reopen them, expecting to see Julian react. He just stands there stoically, accepting my brother’s threat.
“We’re going to take it slowly,” I interject. “A lot has changed over the years…”
Julian drags his blue eyes to mine, silently reminding me that some things, like his love, haven’t changed. I nod with a smile, praying his words are truthful.
After several minutes of silence, Julian speaks. “Well, since we’re here… I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. You’re going to be a free agent and need to be in Houston.”
“How the fuck do you know what I need?”
“You’re going to have to trust me on that,” Julian replies with a smirk.
“Why should I trust a word you say?” Rence inquires skeptically
“Because it’s the right place for you.”
He crosses his arms. “What’s in it for you?”
My eyes bounce back and forth, as if I’m a spectator at a tennis match. My anxiety spikes, my nerves on high alert, expecting one or the other to pounce as they exchange words.
Julian chuckles, the tension releasing from his body slightly as he shrugs. “Seeing as I’m the head coach and all, I want to build the best team Houston has ever seen.”
“And you’re still a cocky motherfucker,” Rence replies solemnly, until a sly grin tugs at his lips.
“Plus, you’ve got three rings, and I…” Julian raises his hands to inspect them, sighing, “have none. I’m hoping that—”
The ringing of Julian’s cell phone interrupts. He reaches into his pocket to retrieve it and looks at the screen.
“Excuse me,” he says, answering with a cheerful voice. “Hello, sir. How are you?... Yes, sir… It’s not a problem… I’ll catch up with you later.”
He ends the call and looks at me guardedly. “Can I have a word with Rence…alone?”
“What? Why?” My eyes narrow.
“It’s fine,” Rence interjects. “I might as well hear what he has to say.”
I shake my head. “For all I know, you’re going to kill each other!”
Julian takes my hand and leads me to the bathroom, closes the door and spins around to look at me. Cupping my face, he searches my eyes.
“Do you believe that I love you?”
I blink and nod, unable to speak.
“If I did something to hurt Rence, I know it would hurt you. I already said I would never do that again.”
I swallow. “But why can’t I hear what you have to say?”
“Because it’s between me and him.”
“Promise you won’t fight him, even if he starts it.”
A smirk emerges. “I can’t promise you that.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
Julian places a soft kiss on my lips. “I’m kidding.”
“I’ll go wait outside the door then.”
“Why don’t you go get some coffee? I’ll call you when we’re done.”
I reach into my back pocket for my phone, not finding it. My brows furrow in confusion, then I groan. “Shit! I left my bag and phone in the conference room before I stormed out.”
Julian shakes his head, not understanding.
I blow out a breath. “I thi
nk someone is following you. Wes showed me pictures of you entering my hotel room.”
He tilts his head and looks into the mirror, gliding his hand over his scruff. He smiles at himself and winks. “Can’t say I blame them. I’d take my picture, too.”
I bark out a laugh. “You’re so full of yourself!”
“Just like you were last night.”
I fling my arms around his neck and bring his lips to mine. “I’m going to find my bag. You and Rence play nice.”
“Let’s go, people. I’ve got shit to do!” Rence calls from the other side of the door.
“I’ve got to pee, then I’m leaving.” I open the door and push Julian out.
Sitting on the toilet, I glance around at the black granite vanity and the tan Italian marble on the floor. Jealousy twists my lips at the fact I’m occupying such meager accommodations on the other side of the hotel. A red cosmetic bag on the corner on the vanity catches my attention.
I finish my business, wash my hands and unzip the small bag. I know I shouldn’t snoop, but I want to know more about the woman staying with my brother.
Typical items like foundation, eyeliner, mascara, makeup remover and a few tubes of lipstick fill the compartment. I reach down and pull out an orange medication bottle.
“Hurry up!”
My brother’s voice startles me, and I drop the bottle. I bend to retrieve it and read the label quickly, whispering, “So, Mallory Sherman, why do you take Ativan?”
“AJ!”
I shove the bottle back into the bag, then return it to its original spot.
When I appear from the bathroom, the guys stop talking. I purse my lips and narrow my eyes. “What are you guys planning? You look like you’re up to no good, just like when we were kids.”
My brother shakes his head. “This is all business.”
As much as I want to give Julian a kiss, I don’t. I simply offer a smile.
“I’ll walk you out, Addison.”
Once he closes the door behinds us, he leans in for a kiss. “Wish me luck.”
I smile, remembering when he used to say the same words to me before every game. So I say the same thing I used to. “You’re Julian MacIntyre. You don’t need luck.”
Raising my arm, Julian presses a slow kiss to the Roman numeral etched on my wrist, then winks. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”
Chapter Thirteen
After having spent the day with my team, exhaustion plagues my body and disappointment fills my heart. Because Julian is part of some upcoming promos featuring the newest faces in the NFL, he has been in high demand and needed for much of the day, so I didn’t see him again. Despite being in the industry for several years, being the youngest head coach thrust him right back into the spotlight. Everyone is anxious to see what he can do for the Texans, a team whose losses heavily outweigh wins over the past three years.
I swipe the keycard, push the door open and collapse onto the bed. I kick off my sandals and close my eyes, blindly reaching for the phone charger on the nightstand. When my fingers come up empty, I groan, reopen my eyes and lean over. The charger isn’t there.
Rising to look behind the night table, I realize that the earrings I took off last night aren’t there, either. Then I look over toward the closet. All my clothes and my suitcases are gone. I run to the bathroom. Empty.
“What the hell?” I murmur.
I step back into the bedroom, pick up the phone and press 0 for the front desk. Circling my fingers on my temple, I attempt to rub away the early signs of a headache. As the phone rings, I clench my teeth at the fact either housekeeping moved my things or someone broke in and stole everything.
That’s when I notice the crystal vase filled with gorgeous, wild orchids sitting on the desk. I hang up and walk over, grabbing the card that’s propped up against the delicate container, my shoulders relaxing. A keycard slips out, along with a handwritten note. My eyes scan the writing while I clutch the rectangular piece of plastic.
From tonight on, I want to fall asleep and wake up with you in my arms.
§
I step out of the elevator and read the small placard that directs me to the left. I round the corner, a huge smile on my face, then freeze when I see Julian standing there talking to two women. Their clothing and flirtatious touching suggest they are part of the group of women who thrive on fucking football players, married or single. Then you have the ones whose goal is to get pregnant and latch onto the player with the sole intention of getting rich and famous.
As if sensing me standing there, Julian looks over, his eyes widening. “Addison,” he calls out when I take a few steps back, my head shaking.
I disappear around the corner and stride to the elevator, jabbing my finger into the number, summoning my escape before Julian arrives.
He runs around the corner, slowing when he sees me standing there. “Where are you going?”
“This was such a mistake. What was I thinking?” I mutter to myself, a sardonic chuckle emerging when I realize Naomi’s suspicions about Julian’s strategy was correct. “Were you just using me to get to Rence? Is that what this is all about?”
Julian simply stares at me, mouth open. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”
I hold my hand up. “That’s okay, I already know the answer.”
“I don’t understand. You’re mad because I was talking to some fans?”
I swing around to face him. “They’re not fans, Julian! They’re sluts who had their hands all over you. And it looked like you were enjoying it.”
When the doors open and I start forward, he reaches for my shoulders and holds me in place. “You are not going anywhere until we hash this shit out right now.”
I resist the urge to break free from his hold and dash into the elevator.
As the door closes, Julian bends down and scoops me up over his shoulders like a caveman.
“Julian MacIntyre, put me down right now,” I demand, my fingers gripping his polo shirt, his back muscles straining as he carries me back to his room.
Once the door clicks shut, Julian throws me down onto the bed. He stands there, hands on his hips, looking at me with indecision. Then he pounces, grasping my wrists with one hand and raising them above my head, pinning me down.
Gritting my teeth, I squirm under him. “Let me go,” I demand.
“No!”
He crashes his lips against mine, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I stiffen, then surrender, kissing him back with desperation. Sensing my desire to touch him, Julian frees my hands. I grip his head, sliding my fingers through his hair before reaching down to gather the material covering his back. Every article of clothing between us serves as a barrier and is quickly discarded.
I look up and admire his perfection as he gazes at me, his stiff cock nudging my point of entry.
“Why do you keep doubting my feelings for you?” he asks, exhaling softly.
I moisten my lips with a quick swipe of my tongue and shrug. My insecurities when it comes to this man are obvious. Despite my love for him, doubt continues to plague me.
“Addison, there are over seven billion people in the world,” he says. “Seven billion.”
I wait silently, wondering where he’s going with this.
“Of all those people, do you know how many I have loved?”
I blink, shaking my head slightly.
“Two.”
I swallow thickly, knowing the other one is his mother.
“And of those two, do you know how many I’ve been madly and desperately in love with for most of my life?”
I don’t answer, seeing the reply in his eyes.
“One… One fucking girl has rocked my world even before she realized it.”
Julian drives into me. I suck in a breath as the sensation overwhelms me.
“I don’t care how many women throw themselves at me. I don’t care if they parade around in front of me, naked. It’s you I want. Have always wanted,” he says, moving
with deep, slow thrusts. “And I don’t care about the men you’ve been with. I know none of them ever compared to what we had.”
In my heart, I know that is true. No man has ever come close to Julian. He has owned my heart forever, and despite the men who have slipped in and out of my life, I didn’t see them when I closed my eyes. Didn’t fantasize about them. It was always Julian I saw.
We fall into perfection, giving and taking unmercifully. “Make no mistake about how I feel about you, Addison.”
I feel the familiar tingle rush up my spine. “I love you,” I cry, the orgasm rippling violently through my body.
“I love you, baby,” he grunts, then a string of profanities tumbles from his mouth as he spills inside of me.
Collapsing on top of me, his face buried in the crook of my neck, panting heavily, Julian slides his hands around my body and holds me tightly.
“We will not have this conversation again. I am yours and you are mine. That’s it. Do you understand me?”
I nod and drag my fingers through his hair, pushing back on his head so he looks at me. I smile at the sheen of sweat on his face.
“You look like you ran a marathon.”
“I feel like I just won the Super Bowl,” he laughs. “How is it possible that sex with you gets better every time?”
“Because it’s so much more than just sex with us.”
Julian’s eyes widen as panic spreads across his face. “Shit, I didn’t use a condom.”
“It’s okay. I’m on birth control.”
He sighs. “Good. I want you to myself for a few years before we start having kids.”
I burst out in laughter. “Kids?”
Smiling, he nods. “A whole offensive line.”
“Are you suggesting you want all boys?” I grimace and frown playfully.
“No! I remember this beautiful girl who used to love to play.”
He plants a swift kiss onto my lips, then rolls off me and strides to the bathroom. I admire his naked body and call out, “She still loves the game. She just reports it from the sidelines now.”
Returning from the bathroom, he bends at the waist and scoops me up, holding my body to his chest. He kisses my forehead, then smiles.
“What’s with the smile?”
