Unforgettable: A Small Town Second Chance Sports Romance

by Melanie Harlow

  “I think so,” I hedged. “I guess I have to just learn to feel the things I feel without judging myself, no matter what they are.”

  “I agree one thousand percent,” she said, coming forward to give me a hug. “And you’re going to be okay no matter what.”

  After my chat with Chloe, I stayed busy checking tasks off my list, including setup for Sadie’s wedding and thinking about potential songs for Tyler and Sadie’s dance. I stayed away from anything slow, sappy and overdone, and gravitated toward songs that reminded me of their sibling relationship—playful, loving, timeless. In the end I had a short list of suggestions that included tunes by Frank Sinatra, Stevie Wonder, Amy Winehouse, and John Legend.

  I was sitting at my desk when a text from Tyler came in around quarter to eight. I’m bored.

  Smiling, I messaged him back. Why?

  Tyler: I’m done eating. Now I’m just listening to people I don’t know make speeches and eyeballing the door.

  Me: I’d be bored too.

  Tyler: I’d rather be with you.

  I was still thinking about how to respond when another text from him came in.

  Tyler: Can I still come by?

  Me: Sure. I have some song suggestions for you.

  Tyler: Okay. I’m either going to make a run for it when no one is looking or fake appendicitis here in a minute.

  Me: Haha. Good luck. The outside door of the wedding barn is locked, so text me when you get here, okay?

  Tyler: Okay. See you soon.

  I set my phone aside and put both hands over my fluttering stomach.

  About twenty minutes later, he messaged me that he was outside, and I went to open the door. My heart raced at the sight of him.

  “Hey,” I said, catching the scent of his cologne as he came in. “You escaped.”

  “I escaped.”

  I locked the door behind him. “So which was it? Did you ghost or fake an illness?”

  “I ghosted. But I texted Sadie what I was doing so she wouldn’t get mad.”

  “Ah. Smart.”

  “What have you been up to?”

  “Working. Come with me. I have some songs to play for you, then once you choose we can work on some steps.” I led him into the dimly lit reception room, where I’d cued up the sound system. Plugging my phone into it, I invited him to sit with me on the band platform and listen to a little of each song. He ended up choosing “Isn’t She Lovely?” by Stevie Wonder, because he said their dad had been a fan.

  “She’ll love that,” I said, happy with his selection. “And it’s a nice mid-tempo song that will make everyone smile, not cry.”

  “They might cry when they see my moves,” he said.

  I laughed and slapped his shoulder. “Will you please trust me? This is not going to be difficult. I’m going to edit this to be a short version, two minutes max. And I’ll make sure it’s the version the deejay has.”

  “Good.”

  I put the song on repeat and stood up, offering my hands. “Okay, now come here.”

  He rose to his feet and took my hands, letting me pull him forward onto the empty dance floor. Just one overhead chandelier was lit, and I’d turned it down low. “Dark in here,” he said.

  “I thought it might make you less self-conscious.”

  He glanced around. “Are you sure we’re alone? I don’t want anyone to see this.”

  “Yes. Okay now, you put your right hand on my back, and keep your left in mine.” I placed my left hand on his shoulder, leaving plenty of space between us.

  “Got it.”

  “Now just step to the rhythm of the song.”

  He swayed me side to side, pretty stiffly, but on the beat, at least.

  “Good.”

  “We have now reached the top of my skill level.”

  I laughed. “Now you’re going to turn me. Raise your left hand, and gently push me under the arch with your right. Keep my hand in yours.”

  “That sounds complicated.”

  “It’s not. And it will be nice and smooth because you’re so tall. I’ll be able to get under the arch without even ducking, and so will Sadie.”

  He did as I asked. “Now what? You’re way out there.”

  “Now bring me back.”

  “How?”

  “Raise the arch again, and turn your wrist a little.” I showed him what I meant. “That tells me where you want me to go.” A couple seconds later, I was back in his arms. “Perfect. See? It’s easy.”

  “I don’t think I did that,” he said skeptically. “I think that was all you.”

  “So you do it this time. Three motions—lift the arch, push me through, bring me back.”

  He did it a few more times, each time a little more smoothly. “Hey, I think I’ve got it.”

  “Congratulations. Now one more step.”

  He groaned. “Don’t push it, Sawyer. One step might be all I can handle.”

  “Listen, if you can strike out nineteen batters in a row, you can learn two dance steps.”

  He stopped moving. “You remember that day?”

  “Of course I remember that day. I’m pretty sure I cried when they gave you the standing ovation.”

  “Did you really?” His arms slid further around my back, pulling me closer to him.

  “Yes.” I swallowed hard. We were now hip to hip. “And later that night, we went to a party, and you kissed Jenna Holmes.”

  “I did?”

  I nodded, my palm moving from the shoulder of his jacket up the back of his neck. “I was so jealous.”

  “You never showed it.”

  “I couldn’t. I didn’t want to be just another girl to you.”

  “You were never just another girl to me, April.”

  “Because I never let on that I wanted you to kiss me.”

  His head dipped lower, until his lips were just inches from mine. “I don’t even remember Jenna Jones.”

  I smiled. “Jenna Holmes.”

  “See? But I remember you always smelled like birthday cake. I remember the way you’d play with your hair while you did math problems. And I remember this one little skirt you had, the way it would ride up your thighs when you sat on your knees at the kitchen table.”

  Forget about dancing. I couldn’t even feel my feet on the ground anymore. “Tyler?”

  “Yeah.”

  I slid my hand into his thick dark hair. “I want you to kiss me.”

  “It’s about fucking time.” That cocky grin flashed for a fraction of a second, and then—finally—his lips were on mine.

  The music continued to play, but I barely heard anything above the pounding of my heart. Tyler’s right arm tightened around my back, and his left hand moved to the back of my head. He opened his mouth wider and stroked between my lips with his tongue, sending a tingle straight between my legs. His hand gripped my ponytail and pulled my head back as his mouth traveled down my throat. “Your hair drives me crazy,” he growled.

  “Pull the elastic out,” I urged. “Take it down.”

  A few seconds later, my hair tumbled down around my shoulders, and he threaded his fingers through it, cradling my head in his hands as his mouth collided with mine once more. I looped my arms around his waist and pulled his torso against mine, feeling the bulge in his pants thick and hard against my abdomen.

  Suddenly he broke off the kiss and rested his forehead on mine. His breathing was ragged. “Fuck, April. This is where I’m supposed to leave—alone. This is where I remind myself that I’m the good guy. This is where I should remember to do the right thing. However, this is also where I’m the bad guy who wants to rip your clothes off and make you come a thousand different ways.”

  A breathless laugh escaped me. “A thousand? Really?”

  “Really.”

  Excitement and desire ricocheted through my body. “Tell me more about this bad guy.”

  “He’s good with his hands.”

  “Does he say dirty things?”

  “Filthy things.�
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  “Does he take his time?”

  He paused. “He will really try.”

  I laughed. “Come on, bad guy. Let’s go.”

  I got the sound system shut down, the lights off, and the building locked up in record time. Within five minutes, Tyler and I were racing hand in hand across the parking lot as quickly as my heels would allow.

  “Your place or mine?” I asked.

  “Mine,” he answered. “There’s a guy in the room next door to me who needs to be taken down a notch.”

  “What?” I shrieked as he opened the door to his SUV for me. “We’re not inviting the neighbors, are we?”

  “No.” He shut me in and ran around to get in on the other side. “It’s just you and me. But if he happens to hear us, I will not be upset.”

  Tyler sped the whole way back to his hotel—I cannot believe he didn’t get pulled over. I had to cover my eyes because I was positive he was going to run a red light. When we reached the resort where he was staying, he left the car at valet—with the keys in the ignition—even though we didn’t even see anyone there. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me through the lobby toward the elevators.

  The doors opened right away, and he yanked me inside, punching the Close Doors button furiously. When they came together, leaving us alone, he spun around and crushed his lips to mine.

  The kiss knocked me breathless. His arms came around me—tight. His body forced me back into the corner while his mouth ravaged mine without mercy. When the elevator pinged and the doors opened, he reached for my hand again and raced down the hallway on his mile-long legs toward his room. I stumbled after him on much shorter legs, panting and laughing and out of my mind with desire.

  I was so far off the ledge, I couldn’t even see it anymore.

  Tyler struggled with the key card, but finally the green light flashed, and he threw open the door, pushing me inside the room. By the time I heard it slam shut, he’d swept me off my feet and was carrying me over to the bed.

  The drapes were shut but one bedside lamp was on, illuminating his dark, hungry eyes as he tossed me onto the spread and removed his jacket.

  I propped myself up on my elbows and watched him yank off his tie, pull his shirt from his jeans and unbutton it, ditch his shoes and socks and belt . . . all in the space of about ten seconds. Finally, he peeled off the button-down and whipped his T-shirt over his head. For the first time, I got a look at his bare chest.

  Let me just say, it was worth the wait.

  But I barely had time to admire it before he launched himself onto the bed. I squealed as his body sprawled over mine.

  “Maniac,” I teased, putting my hands on that chest. It was hot and hard and made my body shiver with anticipation. “You’re going to crush me. And I’ve never seen anyone get undressed so fast. Are you sure you know how to take your time?”

  “Listen,” he said, sliding down my body and getting onto his knees. “The only thing I’m doing quickly tonight is undressing you.” He pulled off one of my heels, then the other.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He flipped me onto my stomach, unzipped my skirt, and tugged it off, leaving my black panties in place. They weren’t my sexiest underwear, but they weren’t Netflix and nachos either, and they still made his jaw drop when he flipped me onto my back again. He ran a fingertip along the lace at the top, making my belly quiver.

  Next, he untied my blouse at the neck, then worked his way down the row of buttons. It took him a little while because the buttons were tiny and his hands were so big.

  “Want help?” I offered.

  “Nope.”

  When he finally reached the last button, he opened the blouse and looked down at my chest. I was wearing a black bra, nothing special, but the way his eyes traveled over my skin made me feel infinitely beautiful. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the mattress over my head, stretching out above me.

  “No fair, I can’t use my hands,” I told him, wrapping my legs around his hips.

  “You put your hands on me, this could be over before it begins, babe. You gotta at least give a guy a chance.” He kissed me in that slow, deep way that awakened every nerve ending in my body and made my back arch beneath him. Through his jeans I could feel the hard length of him rubbing against me, and I was anxious for more. But he took his time, moving his mouth down my neck, my chest, my stomach, running his tongue along the lace edge of my panties where he’d brushed his fingertip before.

  “Tyler,” I said impatiently. “Take your pants off.”

  “Not yet, my pet.” He moved all the way down so his head was between my legs. “While I appreciate your eagerness to get where we’re going, I’m going to enjoy the ride a bit.”

  “The ride?”

  “Yes.” He kissed his way up one inner thigh. “See, some guys might be all about the shortcut . . .” He kissed his way down the other. “ . . . but I myself like a detour.”

  I half-laughed, half-panted as he centered his mouth between my legs, using his tongue on my clit through the thin, soft satin. “I know this about you.”

  “Oh,” he said confidently. “But you don’t.”

  He was right.

  I’d had no idea what it was like to be so thoroughly ravished by him—or by anyone else, for that matter. No one had ever made me feel so good. He used his mouth in ways that had me clawing the sheets and pounding the mattress and begging him not to stop. He tugged my panties off with his teeth. He licked his way all the way back up my thighs. He stroked me with his tongue again and again and again—soft and slow, hard and fast, gentle one minute and greedy the next. He told me my pussy was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, that he couldn’t get enough, that he might come just from fucking me with his tongue. He used his fingers, sliding them inside me while he sucked my clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue while I writhed and rocked beneath him. And when the orgasm tore through my body in glorious, rippling contractions, he moaned just as loudly as I did, as if he could feel it just as deep.

  I had barely caught my breath when he moved up my body, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. If it were anyone else, I might have been self-conscious—but I wasn’t. For once, it hadn’t even occurred to me to worry that I didn’t taste right or wasn’t wearing the perfect underwear or moved too much or not enough. I never once contemplated faking an orgasm just so I could stop being so anxious and try to enjoy myself more. With Tyler, I felt at ease with my body and everything he was doing to it.

  And good lord, he was hot. I didn’t know where to look, between the hair and the eyes and the jaw and the shoulders and the chest and the abs. He braced himself on his hands above my shoulders, and I ran my palms down his arms and up his chest. “I love your body. I never saw it that night.”

  He kissed my cheek, my shoulder, my collarbone. “That’s because I didn’t even bother to take my clothes off.”

  “Nope, it was minimum nakedness, that’s for sure.”

  “Sit up.”

  I did as he asked, and he removed my blouse, unhooked my bra with an easy flick of his fingers, and tossed both aside. Then he gently pushed me back again and looked down at me. “Good thing I didn’t get you naked that night. I could come just looking at you.”

  My core muscles tightened. “Tyler. Take off those fucking pants.”

  His hands were on the zipper before I even finished the sentence.

  Eleven

  Tyler

  I’d been wrong—she didn’t taste like cherry ice cream with amaretto sauce. She tasted better.

  And the flavor of her was still on my tongue as I put my mouth all over her body. I loved the sounds she made, the way she moved, the feel of her skin against mine.

  I went slow, just like I’d planned, but I knew it was only a matter of time until I lost control. Something about her just made me want to get inside her—I didn’t know whether it was her scent or her taste, her hot little moans or her deep-throated cries, the gorgeous red hair spilling ove
r the pillow or the alabaster skin flushed pink with heat.

  Christ, she was beautiful.

  And the way she touched me, a little shyly, like she’d always wanted to but never dared—her hands running over my chest and back, my stomach and arms, and finally wrapping around my cock—with that bottom lip caught between her teeth and her eyes open wide. Like she couldn’t believe this was real.

  We tipped to our sides, and I groaned against her lips as she stroked me, soft and playful at first, her fingertips brushing over my crown, then harder and faster, her fist tight around my shaft. I ran my hand along the curve of her hip, up between her thighs, slipped my fingers inside her again. God, I wanted to be there. I needed it, and I couldn’t wait a second longer.

  “Wait,” I told her. I rolled away from her and hurried into the bathroom, where I’d seen at least two condoms in my travel kit earlier. They’d been in there a while, mocking me, but now I thanked Jesus I hadn’t taken them out.

  And if Jesus didn’t approve of what I was doing, he could look the other way.

  I took both condoms back to the bed, tossed one on the nightstand, tore open the packet of the second, and rolled it on. My heart was thundering in my chest.

  April was on her side, chin resting on her fist, watching me. “Are you going to wear both?” she asked.

  “I wasn’t planning on it. I only have the two, and I figured we’d save one for later.”

  She arched a brow. “Pretty optimistic of you.”

  I jumped back into bed, and she squealed as I flipped her onto her back, circled her wrists with my fingers, and held them tight to the mattress. “You trying to turn me back into a grumpy old man?”

  “No!” She shook her head violently. “Please let me keep this Tyler. He’s hot. And sexy.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And he has a really big dick that’s going to do deliciously naughty things to me.”

  “You got that right.” I eased inside her and began to move, fighting for control. If I wasn’t careful, I’d explode like a teenager in under a minute.