by Sierra Hill
All this time, Cade was right. I am acting like a martyr. I’ve always put others’ needs before mine in order to survive. That’s who I am – a caregiver. My thoughts are consumed with the comfort of others. How can I make them feel better? What can I do to help them? What’s best for their well-being?
Maybe it’s high time I consider my own needs for once. When I’m with Cade, I’m happy. He gives me the strength and support I need – and is my solace. I’m not like my mother, who relies on jerks who use her, leave her and hurt her. Cade only wants to be loved in return.
Instead of returning the love, I’ve pushed him away, unaccepting of the love he’s so freely given.
I jump off the bed and search the floor for my flip-flops. Finding them, I slide my feet in them and then look around for my purse. Just as I’m about to ask Mica if I can borrow her car, I see her keys in her outstretched palm.
“Gracias, amiga.” I smile and place a kiss on the top of her head.
“You’re welcome. Now go get that boy and tell him how you feel, because double-dates will be pretty awkward if you don’t.”
A bubble of laughter hitches up my throat and I head out the door in search of the man I love.
28
Cade
“Fuck you, Edwards. You’re a motherfucking douche. You ambushed me on purpose, fucker!”
Carver and Lance have been playing Call of Duty all morning, yelling at each other and being fucking numb nuts together. Nothing unusual there for a Sunday morning. Things started off semi-quiet earlier, the only noise coming from Mica in the kitchen with Lance. That guy is going well above his normal means of wooing to get that girl.
It reminds me of the effort I put in with Ainsley.
Fat lot of good that did me. Fuck. Now my mood is tanking even more.
I’d woken up with a raging hangover and a headache that’s crushing me blind. And all I want is to go back to bed and find Ainsley waiting there for me so I can wrap her up in my arms and make my problems disappear.
But her absence is the problem. And it can’t be solved when she is the only answer to the equation.
Ainsley feels that the only way to fix her problem (which is all in her head, if you ask me), is by eliminating the X and Y from the equation entirely. But logically, if you want to solve the algebraic equation, you have to solve for Y. And the answer lies with both of us – together - we are the linear equation.
I find my way into the kitchen to grab some coffee and some aspirin when a soft knock sounds at the front door.
“You guys expecting anyone?” I yell from behind the couch and they both shake their heads and continue their loud-ass playing.
I glance down at my attire and shrug my shoulders. If someone dares to make an unannounced visit on a Sunday morning before noon, they’d better expect to find us in our loungewear. Otherwise known as basketball shorts and no shirts.
Holding the coffee mug in one hand, I turn the knob with the other and wrench it open.
There standing before me is the most perfect, beautiful sight in the entire world. Everything around me is drowned out – the noise of the video game, the sounds of Carver and Lance yelling at one another – everything else is non-existent.
We stand there staring at each other for several minutes. Hell, it could be hours. All I know is that I can’t take my eyes off her. And she seems to be just as entranced with me by the way her eyes dip down my chest, over the bulge that is starting to tent under the scrutiny of her gaze, and then back up again to my lips.
“Maybe I should charge for the show.”
“Huh?” She asks, flustered and embarrassed as a red streak blossoms across her cheeks. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to answer the door half naked.”
“And I didn’t expect to answer the door to find the girl of my dreams standing here.”
I might be laying it on a little thick, but fuck it. If I’m only given this one last chance, I’m gonna make it count. I’m gonna pull out all the stops, say exactly what I feel, and go hard in the paint.
Ainsley steps forward but I don’t make a move to retreat or move aside. She’s inches from me and I can smell the sweet orange-blossom of her shampoo. I drag in a deep inhale and let it go just as she lifts herself up on tiptoe, grabs the back of my head and pulls me down into a scorching kiss. She tastes like cinnamon and coffee. The kiss doesn’t last long enough, much to my chagrin, but gives me ideas of dragging her into my bedroom and stripping her naked.
But I don’t want to foul out too early, so I take what she gives me and hope there’s more of that to come.
I finally concede and step back to allow room between us. She glances up through her thick lashes, the sapphire so intense it makes me breathless. Or maybe that’s just from her kiss.
“Can I come in and talk?”
Playing it casual, trying to act cool, I throw my arm out in the direction of my bedroom, prompting her to lead the way. Inside, my heart is thundering, beating a hundred miles per hour against my rib cage. She can probably see it if she looks closely enough.
We head back into my bedroom, passing the guys who give me sideways glances. Lance throws out a “go get her, tiger”, which Ainsley quirks her eyebrows at. I shrug and keep on walking. Nothing is going to stop me until I have her behind closed doors. And at that point, it’s debatable whether I’ll ever let her back out.
Once inside, instead of sitting down on the chair or the edge of the bed, Ainsley walks over to my bureau, her back to me while she runs a hand over the numerous awards and trophies I have on top of the furniture. My curiosity is at an all-time high and my patience is running out fast. My brain is just trying to keep up with what’s going on.
“Remember the first time I was here?”
My cock perks up. Indeed, he definitely recalls every time she’s been here. But that first night, my birthday party, was a very good night. She allowed herself to open up to me that night. She was fun, was cool with my stupid friends, and seemed to have a good time.
“Yeah, of course I remember. It was our first date. I had to coax you to come over.”
“Maybe I’m a little stubborn…”
I harrumph. “Ya think?”
She turns with a big smile on her face. It does something crazy to my stomach, which has been in knots since she arrived.
“That night…I didn’t sleep with you. But I wanted to really bad.” She says with a sheepish expression, as she glances coyly at the floor through her long lashes. “But I didn’t want you to think I was like any of your other girls. I wanted you to know that I was different and didn’t just want you for your basketball celebrity. I wanted to distinguish myself as somebody more than just a groupie.”
Moving forward, I take her wrist and gently yank her into me so that our torsos touch. I feel the small pebbles of her nipples against my naked chest and my cock decides he wants off the bench.
“Ainsley,” I say with gentle assurance. “You’ve always been different than anyone else. Never did I once think of you as a groupie. I was the one who chased you, not the other way around. I knew you were special from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
She laughs. “I know. You were extremely tenacious.”
I stroke the inside of her wrist with my thumb. It’s soft and smooth.
“And I got what I wanted.” I kiss her hand.
“You did,” she agrees. “But then I realized being different in your world can cause problems. I don’t have the same time to allocate to going to parties, and joining you on the road for away games. Or even coming to watch every home game. I have responsibilities that interfere…my sister…”
“She needs you,” I interrupt, walking her back toward the bed so we can sit. “I understand that, baby. And I want to be there for you and Anika. You need someone to take care of you, too. I want you to let me do that for you. And for some reason, you have it in that beautiful, stubborn head of yours, that I need to party-out the rest of my college life…well, I do
n’t. Sure there might be some fun events in the coming few months, and if you schedule time to attend with me, that’ll be awesome. But if you can’t, then I’d rather spend a night in with you over a night out with a bunch of people I don’t care about.”
She drops her chin, but I tip it back up. I place a gentle kiss on her lips to show her how much I truly mean it.
“I just don’t want you to get to the end of this school year and look back with regret because you missed out on it because of me.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I tug her into my neck so she has no choice but to lay her head against me. Our hearts beat in rhythm. It feels right. Perfect.
“Listen to me, Ainsley, because I’m only going to say this once. The only thing I would ever regret is losing you. When I look back at the last few years, before I met you, I can’t believe how empty my life was. It was filled with endless parties, girls, fans, and basketball. But none of that really made me happy. It all leaves a bitter aftertaste. That’s because the sweetest thing I’ve ever had is right here in my arms. And now I’m kind of hooked on your sweetness.”
Her small hand runs the length of my chest, circling its hard planes, dragging her fingernails across my bare abs, as I feel her warm breath flutter across my skin on an exhale.
Without Ainsley, my life would be meaningless. If we were opponents on the court, I know we’d be evenly matched. And unlike basketball, I want our game to continue forever. That would be the sweetest thing ever.
“I want you by my side, forever and always, baby. I love you.”
She smiles, the one that lights up my life.
“I love you, too, Cade.”
“Good,” I say, stunning her when I flip her back onto the bed so she’s flat on her back. A giggle erupts from her chest. “Now, let me taste some of that sweetness again.”
The End
Other Books by Sierra Hill
The Physical Series
Physical Touch
More Than Physical
Physical Distraction
Physical Connection
Standalones and Short Stories
One More Minute With You
The Reunion
Character Flaws
His Fairytale Princess
Whipped: A Second Helpings Story
Resolution: Road Trip (A Resolution Pact Story)
Be Patient – The Waiting Game (An Escaping the Friend Zone Novella)
Courting Love (A College Sports Series)
Full Court Press
The Rebound
Pivot
Fast Break
Jump Shot
Reckless – The Smoky Mountain Trio serial
Reckless Youth
Reckless Abandon
Reckless Hearts
Reckless – The Smoky Mountain trio boxset
The Rebound (Courting Love Book 2)
If someone calls me ‘a sweet girl’ one more time, I’m liable to throat punch them. Not even kidding.
This boring description has been pinned to me since childhood – albeit fairly accurate. But now that I’m nearly nineteen and a freshman in college, it’s not who I am, nor who I want to be. Unfortunately, it’s still how I get viewed. I’m the sweet little sister of Cade Griffin – college basketball player extraordinaire.
I’ve tried to change my image over the first few months of college, and now that I’m back home on fall break, I’m hoping others will see I’m not the same girl I was before I left. All I want to do over the next week is let loose a bit and have fun. Enjoy my time back home – away from the stress of schoolwork, classes, and deadlines - spend time with my dad, my brother and his new girlfriend, Ainsley, and hang out at Cade’s apartment with his roommates and friends.
Which is where I am right now. Sitting on the couch in Cade’s living room, watching an episode of Game of Thrones with my brother’s roommate, Lance, and their teammate Van. The guys, along with my brother, all play basketball for ASU. I’ve been sitting here the last hour, waiting for Cade and Ainsley to return from a shopping trip they had to run. They’d invited me along, but I told them I wanted to get caught up with GoT.
Truthfully, I really just want to hang out with Van. I’ve kind of developed a little crush, even though I know he’s completely off limits and out of my league. And the fact that he has a girlfriend. Which really sucks for me.
“Holy fuck!” Lance shouts, his body jumping off the couch in a herky-jerky motion, arms flailing over his head like the house is on fire. My head spins toward him, my cheeks flush in embarrassment that I may have been caught staring at the beauty of Van.
Lance’s expression displays his state of horror, not over my obvious infatuation, but over something that happened on the show. I’m not exactly sure what I missed, but it must be a big deal. Since I’ve been lost in my own world and not really paying any attention to the TV, I have no idea what’s got him so excited.
“I can’t believe they killed him off! Un-fucking-believable!”
I look away from Lance and down at Van, who is sitting on the floor with his back up against the couch, shaking his head in disbelief. “Wow…I definitely didn’t see that coming. They’re always killing off the characters you’d least expect.”
My attention swerves back to the TV, trying to clue into what’s happening so I don’t look like an idiot. Who could fault me, though? I’m sitting inches from one of the hottest guys I’ve ever met. I covertly glance over at Van underneath the protection of my bangs and the large-framed glasses I’m wearing today. I have contacts, but don’t always put them in.
Van is sitting on the floor by my feet. His dark, shiny hair is pulled back in a low-man-bun, a black headband secured at his temple to hold back stray pieces. I’m not super into guys with long hair, or man-buns, for that matter, but it’s a really good look on Van. My current location gives me the perfect vantage point to check him out without him knowing it. Unless he has eyes on the back of his head.
As the younger sister of a college basketball stud, I’ve been around my fair share of Cade’s good-looking friends for as long as I can remember. Always watching from the proverbial courtside seats – invisible to them all. Sure, his friends and teammates tease me unmercifully over my “sweet” and “cute” looks or gawky tendencies – I’m used to that. I’ve been known to trip over my own feet from time to time. But Van’s attention these last few days has made me feel special.
Getting to know Van has been an entirely different experience. He’s treated me like an equal, not the younger, bratty sister of his friend. He’s asked me about my interests, my favorite classes at school, my intended major and listened to me talk about some of the issues I’ve been dealing with during my first semester away. Like the high level of anxiety over expectations, as well as my constant cloud of homesickness. He’s so easy to open up to that I forget to be my usual Nervous-Nelly around him. He’s even cajoled me into regaling some of the embarrassing moments I’ve had and related to me on the same level, which I find adorable.
And his sexy, gray-blue eyes – so dark they look like I’ve fallen into the deep ocean - seem to have taken notice of me as a woman, not some little girl. Unless it’s my overactive imagination at work, I think there may be a mutual attraction.
That attraction I have toward him has turned me into an idiot who can’t keep a single thought in my brain when I’m around him. Or apparently, pay attention to really interesting storylines on my favorite show.
The only problem?
Van is taken.
He has a girlfriend.
The only guy I’ve ever connected with and feel like I can be myself around is in a long-term relationship with his high school sweetheart. The only reason I know this is because Cade and the guys constantly give Van shit about his “ball and chain” and say that he’s crazy to be “locked down” when he could be getting tons of action from all the hoops hunnies that throw themselves at basketball players.
And believe me, I can see why they wou
ld. I’m not a girl who flaunts it or even knows how to flirt, but with Van, I’m inclined to try.
“Earth to Kylah.” Van’s smooth voice once again reminds me to get out of my own head. My body jolts at the mention of my name and my eyes flick up to his. He’s now standing facing me and I have to crane my neck because he’s so frigging tall. He’s even taller than my six-foot-five brother.
“Uh, what?” I ask hesitantly, because I have no idea what he just said or asked me. Space cadet, much?
Van’s low chuckle sends crazy vibrations through my nerve endings.
“I asked if you wanted something to drink. I’m going to run to the store and grab some beers and stuff. The fridge is nearly empty.” He eyes me curiously when I don’t say anything. “Or, would you like to get out of the house and come with me?”
My gaze darts around the room, trying to figure out what’s going on. Apparently I’d been zoning out longer than I thought because the show is over and Lance is no longer sitting next to me. He’s off in his bedroom, leaving Van and me together. Alone.
I swallow the lump in my throat, the massive ball of indecision bubbling up inside my chest. Yes, of course I want to go with him. I’d be crazy not to. I look down at the flip-flops I’m wearing, like they have the answer. I’m nervous – nothing new there. Being alone with Van has me questioning my sensibilities. He’s giving me a look now that says he’s probably questioning his own decision to ask me along. I probably should say no. But I don’t.
“Um…yeah…sure.” I stammer, sounding like a complete loser.
Pull yourself together, woman.
