by Maya Hughes
“What?” Her eyebrows furrowed, and then she gasped and stared at me with her mouth slack.
I was tempted to nudge it closed with my finger.
My neck and chest burned with embarrassment. The red was probably a glowing beacon to planes flying overhead.
“You’re a virgin?” When she said the word, it sounded like it was in a foreign language she’d never learned. She shot up, the blanket falling off her body. “Are you fucking serious?”
My face heated with embarrassment, like someone had shoved my mouth full of candles and lit the wicks. “Why not scream it from the rooftops? And not anymore.” I sat up, keeping the blanket over my lap as if the soft sheets could hide my self-consciousness. How obvious had it been? Why’d hadn’t I just come up with a good excuse?
“What about the girl you dated freshman year?” She shifted on my lap, straddling me, wrapped up in her own blanket with her arms draped over my shoulders.
My head rocked back, trying to figure out what alternate life she’d thought I was living. “I didn’t date anyone freshman year.”
Her lips pursed. “You don’t have to lie. I saw the pictures online. She was a cute, super tall brunette with a pixie cut.”
I wracked my brain trying to figure out who this mystery woman might have been, which wasn’t easy with Marisa on my lap. At least there were two blankets between us, or I’d have trouble remembering my own name.
“She was tallish. Was in lots of pictures with you. Every game, even the away games, she was there.”
“Tara?” I laughed before steeling my face at the glare from Marisa. She was being totally serious.
“Fine, Tara. Yes, what about her?”
“We were not having sex. She was the mascot.”
“The mascot.”
“Giant cartoon knight.”
“Was a girl.”
“Yeah. She traveled with the team to games and stuff. She graduated my freshman year.”
Her grip on the sheet loosened and it slipped down her back. “Or the one girl sophomore year with the faux hawk?”
“Class project partner. She crashed here a couple nights because her roommate was insane. She kept stealing her underwear.”
“What about—”
I cut off her list with my finger against her lips. The last thing I wanted was for her to go off on a wild tangent about me and my bedroom activities. Evading wasn’t going to work. I need her to know.
“I haven’t slept with anyone else—ever.” My hands wrapped around her waist, thumbs brushing against the soft skin of her back.
Her face cycled through at least ten different emotions before settling on confusion.
“Why not?” She settled deeper onto my lap.
At least she believed me about that, but did I really want to tell her the whole truth? Would it seem pathetic and stupid? On the other hand, I’d already run the ball in this far, what was a few more yards?
I tilted my head and stared into her eyes, the same chocolatey brown ones that made me want to gorge myself on brownies. “They weren’t you.”
“LJ…” Her head tilted. The question blaring in her eyes. “No one?”
I stifled my smile. “I’m not saying I’ve never been kissed or anything. But it just never seemed right.” The line between her not thinking of me as a manwhore or a nun was a hard one to toe. This was the worst possible place for her to be sitting for this conversation. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I didn’t want to go through a play-by-play of just how far I had gone, and I didn’t need to think about how her experience eclipsed mine.
Or the guys she’d been with.
Her hands stilled their torturous swirls on my back. Her head ducked and she stared at the same spot in the center of my chest she always looked at whenever she couldn’t look me in the eye.
Shit, had I screwed up? Was it terrible, and now she knew why? Embarrassment sent me from half-mast to floppy noodle in a split second. Was she going back and finding that it all made sense now? I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and pretended I didn’t know why they were expired. Not that lying to her had ever been easy. Holding onto one big lie was pretty much my limit.
“Me too,” she whispered.
It barely made it over the pounding of my heart trying to escape up my throat. “You too, what?”
She peeked at me before dropping her gaze again, licking those full lips that I needed to taste again. “I—I’m a virgin too. Well, I was…” Her lips twitched.
I rocked back nearly toppling her off my lap.
Her hands shot out, grabbing for my shoulder and I stared into her eyes, blown away by her confession and the years of jealousy I’d dealt with thinking about the guy who’d gotten to do more than just sleep beside her.
Her shoulder jumped and her fingers tickled the back of my neck, raising goosebumps all over my body. “It just never felt right.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
She jabbed her finger into my chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Holy shit, Marisa was a virgin. I’d devirginized her. Those words detonated in my skull. “I’d have made sure to go slower or…”
“If you’d gone any slower I’d have been fifty by the time we actually did it.” A playful shove.
Relief that some things between us were still the same brought a smile to my face.
“I was trying to be considerate. And take my time. And not come within three strokes.” I wriggled my fingers into her side.
She squirmed and yelped, trying to get off my lap before sobering. “How was it?” The corner of her bottom lip disappeared into her mouth.
Lifting her chin with my finger, I stared into her eyes not wanting a shadow of doubt or worries to invade her head when she thought about what we’d just done. “I should be asking you the same thing. Isn’t it usually guys who screw up the first time for the girl?”
Her fingers skimmed along my chest, tracing the patterns of my muscles.
My dick responded, ready to live up to my tease about making it through the whole strip of condoms.
“Maybe, but I don’t have any complaints. It was amazing.” Wonder filled her voice.
Breath trapped in my lungs escaped. My cheek twitched. “I know, I should’ve been doing it years ago.”
Her gaze narrowed and she grabbed a pillow, whacking me with it. “Too late now. I’ve got the first place spot on your bedpost.” She pumped her hands overhead and made fake crowd cheering noises.
“Have I told you you’re the worst?” I relaxed against the wall, watching her gloating glow, still fully aware of our nakedness and unable to take my eyes off her. Things didn’t feel one bit awkward. It felt like us, but better. I wanted more of this. A lot more. “Don’t I get the same spot?”
Her lips curved in a sassy, smirk. “I guess I’ll allow it.” She slid off my lap and grabbed a t-shirt—my t-shirt—and pulled it on. Climbing on the bed, she sat beside me with her back resting against the wall. “What a pair we are—two 22-year-old virgins.”
“Maybe there’s more of us out there than we think.” I nudged her with my elbow, no longer feeling like I was alone or had been crazy for waiting for her. Not when we got to have this together.
“Maybe…” The lip nibble was back on.
“Are you having regrets?” My stomach knotted and soured. God, I hoped not. It was the best night of my life.
“No! Are you?”
“Not a single one.” Then the mantle of reality and responsibility dropped onto my shoulders. After the blow-up Marisa had at her dad’s house today, she wasn’t in the best frame of mind. Emotions were heightened.
She might never have slept with me, if what had happened at his house hadn’t happened.
I also didn’t want her to use this as another thing to piss him off—for her sake, for the sake of what might be salvageable in their relationship, and for my sake. I hated the shitty, selfish feeling gnawing at my gut for even thinking of it. There were fewe
r than six weeks left in the season, and I needed to salvage what I could. “But maybe we don’t tell anyone about this for now.”
Her shoulders stiffened and her lip fell free from between her teeth. “We should keep this quiet.”
I couldn’t tell if it was a question or not, but I pushed forward for both our sakes. “Do you really want the guys—hell everyone who’s ever said we have the hots for one another—to get the satisfaction? They’ll never let us live it down, and they’ll probably assume any time we’re alone we’re having sex. Then there’s the other guys on the team. It could cause problems there, if we’re out…”
She drew her knees up to her chest. “And then there would be all kinds of questions about our plans for the future. What we’re doing after graduation. It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” She shrugged. “Especially since I got the Guggenheim Fellowship. I’ll leave for Venice two weeks after graduation.”
The war between pride and happiness brought out the big guns, trying to push out hesitancy, heartache and hatred for a whole damn city.
“You did it.” That piece of information had burrowed into my brain like a shard of glass over the past couple hours.
“I did.” She sat up straighter, but pride and anxiety washed over her face. “I’m totally on board with the ‘don’t tell anyone’ thing. It would bring up way too many questions.” She put up her pinkie.
I hooked it and tugged her closer, letting our lips brush before running my tongue over the gap between her lips and demanding entrance.
She sighed and I deepened the kiss, wanting to spend the next seven months imprinting the memory of me on every part of her to tide her over while we were apart.
The front door opened. Heavy footfalls rattled the house.
I shot back and flew off the bed. “It’s Berk.” Picking up my clothes, I searched for my shoes. I jumped into my boxers.
“He might not even know you’re in here.”
“Hey, LJ, you here? I saw your car outside.”
Shit! He’d be up here any second. “My shirt.” I waved my fingers at her.
With one moment of hesitation, she put an opposite hand on either side of the shirt and whipped it up over her head before flinging it to me.
I tugged it on and grabbed my shoes.
The stairs creaked.
Diving onto the bed, I planted a kiss on her before rushing out of her room. Dropping my shoes beside my door, I got my jeans on and slid into my desk chair, shooting it five feet from the desk and banging into my bed.
Digging my heels in, I scurried to my desk and propped my head up on my hand and slipped open a notebook. My heart raced for a whole different reason right now and I swallowed, trying to look natural. Just a regular evening, here at home. Studying.
Berk popped his head in. “There you are. Why didn’t you say anything when I came in?”
“I was studying. I probably zoned out or something. What’s up?”
“Your notebook is upside down.”
I glanced down at the lined paper in front of me and my stomach dropped. Scrambling, I turned it until it faced right side up.
“Sometimes when I’m quizzing myself in my head, I’ll do that, so I can’t read the answers.”
“Okay, that’s weird, but whatever. Can I talk to you about something? It’s about Alexis.” He dragged his fingers through his hair.
The relief was sharp and sweet. Berk didn’t even seem phased by my excuse, too preoccupied with whatever was going on inside his head. Unfortunately, that thing was Alexis. His sister.
I groaned and slumped back in my seat. “Dude, after she tried to steal my wallet I know the answer will be the opposite of whatever she wants you to do. I’m not going back on the ban. She can be here, if you’re here, but no leaving her here on her own.”
“Come on, she’s not that bad.” He dropped his arms to his side.
She was the absolute worst. A former foster sister, he was overprotective of her even though she seemed to get into nothing but trouble. But I’d cut him some slack.
After the way my evening had gone, I didn’t feel the need to go over every terrible thing she’d done in the three-and-a-half years I’d known him. I wanted to hold onto the fuzzy feelings nestled in my chest as long as possible.
“What’s the issue?”
Berk rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Are you worried about the draft? About making it?”
Every day. “Sometimes, but all we can do is give it our all this season.”
His fingers drummed along the side of his leg. “It’s hard to think that in seven months we’re either done with football forever and trying to find a regular job, or we’re playing in stadiums with more cash than we know what to do with.”
My gut clenched at the first possibility. “It’s not going to happen. We’re kicking ass this season. Other than the first game against STFU we’ve kept it together. Reece was a first round draft pick. He’s set with his signing bonus.”
“Yeah.” The least convincing sentence ever. Why was he worrying about this now? He’d always seemed the most laid back of any of us when it came to his future. Secure in his place.
“How are things with your agent?”
“They’re fine. He’s a little slimy, but I figure most are.” A sad flash flickered through his eyes. “It’s a lot of pressure once this season finishes. A lot of opportunities for people to come looking for things from us. For people to start treating us differently.”
“What exactly are you worried about?”
“Honestly? That after the draft I’ll never know anyone who wants to know me for anything other than what I can give them.”
“That’s a cynical as shit way to look at things.” A realization hit me that I’d never thought of for him, an only child who’d been in the system. “And another reason you’re always swooping in to save Alexis. She’s the closest thing you have to family.” And he had the hots for Jules, but liked to pretend he didn’t.
“Alexis is my sister. There’s no other way about it. And it’s not only about her.”
“All we can do is try to surround ourselves with people who care about us.”
“You’re right.” He squeezed the back of his neck. “Sorry to go all softie on you.”
“It’s what friends are for, right?”
He nodded. “True. It’s great you’ve got Marisa, who’ll always have your back. Friends like that don’t come around too often. You guys are lucky.”
“Damn lucky.”
17
Marisa
LJ’s hands palmed my ass. The windows were fogged up, and I ground myself against his straining erection, teasing us both.
My lips were swollen and throbbed, but it wouldn’t make me stop. “We’re going to be late.”
He didn’t break lip contact. “I know, but it’s okay. I’ll tell them there was traffic.” His fingers sunk into my hair. Even with the driver’s seat pushed back as far as it could go, I was wedged between his chest and the steering wheel, which dug into my back. I couldn’t stop smiling.
His fingers slid under my shirt, teasing and tickling.
A dead end, five blocks from his childhood home wouldn’t have been my first choice for a make out spot, but holy crap had the last two weeks been infuriating. I’d had meetings with Venice late into the night, going over a lot of the plans for my fellowship and finding out what I’d need to enroll in the master’s program.
I rocked on his lap, about to lose my mind with wanting him inside me again. The dreams had almost been cruel with the way the fourteen days had gone. There had never been long enough to give us the level of satisfaction we’d been craving.
LJ had practices and weight training sessions every day. He’d strained a hamstring after a strenuous work out and had been on the couch alternating ice packs and Ace bandages for a couple days. It came with the football territory. What he’d put his body through season after season was brutal, but he’d been lucky. He’d had no su
rgeries or serious injuries so far, unlike some guys who’d had their ACLs, shoulders, or worse operated on.
Not playing as much this season had gotten to him some, but it also saved him for the games coming up. Which would mean more travel. I tried not to let it get to me. It was what it was, but I wanted more alone time with him.
My bed was so freaking loud there was no way to fool around while anyone else was home. LJ’s room was at the first door at the top of the steps and his bed wasn’t much quieter. And we’d almost always had our doors open, so we could shout to one another about something. Suddenly switching to two closed doors wasn’t the best way to keep what we were doing quiet.
Even the freaking floors were noisy. We’d learned that the hard way when Berk came upstairs asking if we were moving furniture.
There had also been two games since then with more travel time, which meant he’d been gone from Thursday to Tuesday both weeks. At least I hadn’t had to worry about dinner with Ron, but talking to LJ and going through a play-by-play of what we were going to do to one another when we finally had a minute alone was driving me crazy.
Midterms had been rough. The chemistry classes would come in handy for the museum curation work, but man, did they suck.
Between his schedule and mine, other than right now, it felt like it would be three months before we had a chance to have sex.
It was making me mildly cranky.
His phone buzzed in the cup holder.
We broke apart and I picked up his phone. Chest heaving, I pushed my hair back and checked the message.
My lips twitched, embarrassment radiating though me. “It’s from your mom, she wants to know how much longer until we get there.” Perfect timing. At least she wasn’t knocking on the window asking what was taking us so long.
LJ banged his head against the headrest. “I told you we should’ve left a half hour earlier.”
The responsible guy. My responsible guy. “I’m not the one who decided since we didn’t have any toilet paper at the house, we should stop and buy some instead of just using napkins.”
