Right for Love

by Aria Cole

  Playing pro for the Bears had been great, but I’d just been biding my time and saving my cash until I could move back home and buy a place big enough to live out the rest of my days in.

  I glanced over at Milo, feet up and snuggled deep into the couch. “Guess you’re not going anywhere.”

  I pulled my keys off the table, shoved them deep into my pocket, and then walked out the door.

  A quick bite at the diner a few blocks away would have to do. I’d eaten enough pizza in the last week to kill a man, so something hot and homemade sounded about perfect.

  The streetlights hummed as I walked through the darkness, hoping the diner was still open and wondering where in the hell I was going to start walking my dog to avoid Morgan’s park.

  Yeah, Morgan’s park.

  She could have it.

  I’d take the dog to piss in the next county if that’s what it took to avoid her and the sweet little face of her darling kid.

  Just the thought alone made my stomach churn.

  The nerve of her to slaughter my insides like that and then turn around and fuck someone else.

  I hadn't been with another woman since her.

  Not that I’d been saving myself, but the truth was, no one had ever compared.

  No one had made me feel what Morgan made me feel. I’d held out for that, and I’d never found it.

  A near growl escaped my lips as I thought about her touching someone else. Another man’s paws on her soft skin. My skin. My girl. Mine.

  I remembered the way she'd let me clutch her hand during my grandma’s funeral, salty tears filling my eyes. Morgan had always been there for me, and then she'd gone and stolen my grandma’s macaroni, cheese, and bacon recipe. So much for loyalty.

  “Fuck, maybe I should sell the new place and move.” I said the words out loud, swinging in the door of the diner as I did. “Fuck me.”

  There she was. Standing against the counter, back to me.

  I’d know that back anywhere.

  The luscious curve of her hips, the hourglass waist, the way her ponytail hung over one shoulder.

  She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her.

  Without thinking twice, I strode right to her, my chest pressed against her back, my teeth at her ear. “What are you doing here?”

  She spun, eyes wide as she was taken off guard. Her fiery greens narrowed before she spat, “I work here,” and turned.

  Fuck.

  Fuck. Fuck. Double fuck.

  “Of course you do.” I couldn’t help the growl.

  “We’re closing in thirty, but you’re welcome to take a seat,” she said simply, treating me like I was any other customer. The fuck I was any other customer. We had history. She couldn't just erase history.

  I pushed a hand over my face and through my hair. “Where do you live?”

  “Why would I tell you?” she shot back, a hand at her hip.

  Another groan rolled through me. “Fine. I don’t give a shit anyway.”

  “Then why ask?” Her eyes sparkled. She had me on that one. I did care. I cared a fuck of a lot. I didn’t know why I cared, but I did.

  “Because…” I paused, eyes locked on hers. The air hung heavy between us, her eyes searching mine, my gaze climbing up and down hers. Fuck, I wanted to pull her into my arms, kiss her until she couldn't fucking breathe and forgot every other man that had come since me. “Because I give a fuck about that little girl.”

  Her dark eyes grew wide, a look of stone-cold fear flashing across her face. What the hell was that about? And come to think of it, why had she looked like she’d seen a ghost when we’d met in the park? Introducing me to her daughter…

  Shit.

  Oh Jesus Christ.

  Was it possible?

  Could little Emerson actually be my daughter?

  The thought hadn’t even occurred to me before now. Dammit, had she found out she was pregnant after I left?

  Suddenly, all the dark nights alone in my bed came back to me, my thumb hovering over her name in my contact list, memories of us dragging me under.

  “Look, Hawk, I’m not sure why you came back, or why you’re even standing here in front of me with that look on your face, but I’m fine. We’re fine.” She amended, referring to herself and Emerson and averting her eyes. “Now can I get you a drink?”

  She twisted, turning her back on me, hands scribbling something on a pad she’d pulled out of her apron.

  “Grrrr…” I gritted out, spinning on my heel and stomping out of the diner.

  The cool air hit my face, clearing my head.

  Fuck.

  I couldn't leave her like that.

  What if that little girl was mine?

  And why did it feel like her mama still was, even after all these years?

  I turned around, barging back through the doors and up to her, fists clenching at my sides, unsure of what to say.

  So I didn’t say anything.

  I thrust my hands in her hair, threaded my fingers through the silky strands and smashed my lips to hers in a take-no-prisoners kiss. Her lips opened as if on instinct, just like they always had, and our tongues slipped together. Fireworks exploded between us, heart pounding within me, telling me to take what was mine.

  Her hands worked into my hair, hips grinding against mine and driving me nearly blind with lust.

  I needed her.

  I wanted her.

  I loved her.

  Fuck.

  I still loved her.

  She pulled her lips from mine, small gasps breathing past her lips when my hands tightened at her cheeks. My eyes hardened, searching her up and down for the girl I used to know. Discovering the woman she’d become.

  She was so lovely it made my chest ache.

  “Jesus,” I grunted, then spun, storming back out the doors and into the cool night. I walked a few steps, hands in my hair, mind raging at me to turn around and tell her she belonged to me. She’d always belonged to me. There was no severing what we had. What we had grew stronger, grew more alive.

  Fuck, I had to say something.

  I couldn’t just turn tail and run like a bitch. I couldn’t stand here with my hands in my hair.

  I whirled around, throwing the door open and bursting through again. Walking straight for her, and this time, she didn’t turn when I neared. This time, she stood her ground, eyes watching me intently. She was bold, brave. She’d been through alot in the years since I’d left her.

  And it only registered just then that if she was working at the diner, she was probably struggling to make ends meet. She was probably a single mom. No man in his right mind would let his woman work somewhere like this at night, with all the fucking assholes that came into places like this after dark.

  “I don’t know what to do about you,” I breathed, lips barely brushing hers.

  Fuck, I wanted her plastered to me again.

  I wanted her home, in bed, screaming my name. I wanted everything with this woman.

  But that didn’t change the fact that she’d still left me. Told me she never wanted to see me again and then walked away, told me to leave and never come back.

  Christ, I’d begged her to come with me.

  I told her I would stay, forget the NFL, all I wanted was her.

  But she insisted.

  And now, looking across at her, eyes connecting, shared memories swirling, I couldn’t help the pain clogging my heart.

  “Just leave, Hawk,” she finally whispered, eyes turning down.

  I caught her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Got news for you, Morgan. I'm never leaving again.”

  THREE

  Morgan

  His words echoed around my skull.

  Never? Did he really mean never?

  “I thought you were just here for a break. Don’t you have a big fancy career to get back to?”

  His eyes softened for a minute, his hand falling from my chin and leaving tingles in its wake. Everything about him turned me on, still did. On
ly now, I hated him for it. “Not going back.”

  “Ever?”

  He only shook his head. As if he didn’t owe me more of an explanation. Of course, he owed me an explanation. This was my town; he’d up and left us all. I was the one who was left behind to make a life here.

  “Fucked up my shoulder.” He rubbed at the muscle, and my instincts pushed at me to touch him. Massage him. Ease away the ache. But those days were gone. I wasn't his anymore, and he certainly wasn’t mine. “I’m officially retired.”

  “Shit.” I blurted the only word in my head.

  “Something like that,” he muttered, eyes trailing around the small diner.

  It wasn’t much to look at, the floors dingy, the seat cushions cracked, but Dan had been good to me. Always flexible with hours, understanding when Emerson was sick. And this was just about the only place to work in this town. Anything else would require driving into the city, a good forty-five minutes, and doing that every day with my junk car would be bad news.

  We were okay. I could make rent on the wage Dan paid, and if I picked up additional hours, I had enough to buy extras at the grocery store, like ice cream for a treat, or a new pair of sandals for Emerson in the summer.

  Life was tough, and looking at Hawk now, I could see he’d left this life far behind.

  His shoes were high-end sneakers, brand-new jeans hung just right on his hips, and he wore a designer T-shirt I was sure he paid more for than what I spent a month in groceries. Hawk and I may have grown up together, but our lives sure were different now. His dad had always said I wasn’t good enough for him, and it was part of the reason I’d told Hawk to walk away—because it was true. I couldn't hold him back when his only dream had ever been to play pro ball. I wouldn’t be the weight on the end of his balloon. Hawk deserved to fly. He was the best quarterback Greenville had seen in over a decade. Of course, he was drafted his sophomore year of college, and no way would I be the girl to keep him from chasing his dreams.

  I loved him enough for that, at least.

  Even if he didn’t see it, standing across from me now.

  “Talk to me. Just fifteen minutes,” Hawk breathed against my neck.

  Dan’s voice called from the back of the kitchen then, asking me to lock the doors.

  “I’ll wait for you outside. Please talk to me.” Hawk’s eyes burned back at me, dark, pleading.

  I nodded quickly, ushering him out the door before locking it behind him. He turned, waved once, then leaned against the brick wall, looking sexy as fuck. How was it possible Hawk was back and he was waiting for me to get off work, just like it used to be? I’d fallen into a time warp, except this time, it was all different. This time, I had Emerson.

  I breathed deeply, steeling my spine before buzzing around to the tables and counters and giving them one final sweep with a damp cloth. Untying my apron, I went in back to find Dan.

  “Headed home for the night?” He barely looked up from the stack of papers on his desk.

  “Yup, unless you need anything else?” I stalled, dreading walking out those doors to face Hawk. Who knew what kinds of questions he might ask me. And I wasn’t ready to tell him anything. Not yet, maybe not ever.

  “I’m good. Thanks, Morgan.” Dan dismissed me with a wave of his hand, and I trailed on soft footsteps out the back door. Shrugging my purse onto my shoulder, I made my way around the building and bumped chest-first into Hawk.

  His arms came around me instantly.

  My body wanted to melt into him, let him soothe away all the anxiety just like he used to do, but I’d gotten good at standing on my own two feet. Just because he was back now didn’t change anything.

  “What do you want, Hawk?”

  “I want to know about you,” he said simply. I’d missed that about him. So many people used so many words to fill their conversations without saying anything of value. Hawk’s words were short and to the point, and you never had to guess how he was feeling.

  “Well, I’ve been waitressing here for almost three years—”

  “Not that shit.”

  I frowned, growing frustrated. “Then, what shit?”

  “Don't bullshit me, Morgan.” He caught my elbow, hauling me a little closer to him. My stomach fell, my knees weakened, stubborn arousal chugging its way through my veins and landing between my thighs. Just the brush of his skin against mine was like a hit of heroin coursing through my veins. I hated being so at his mercy. I hated that he still knew that about me.

  “Bullshit you? Why would I even?” I yanked my arm out of his grip and walked down the sidewalk.

  “Talk to me.”

  “You keep saying that without asking a damn question!” I screamed, speeding up.

  “Christ, can’t we go somewhere private?” His face contorted into a frown.

  “No! I mean, not my place. The babysitter is there.”

  “Then mine.” His hand was at my elbow again, pulling me against him.

  I shook my head, not because I didn’t want to, but because the fog his touch sent clouding my brain was almost too much to handle.

  “It’s just a block and a half away. Give me fifteen minutes. And I’ll walk you home when I’m done.”

  “I don’t want you to know where I live.”

  “What? Why not?” His brow furrowed, offended.

  I shook my head, feeling a little more helpless every minute. I wasn’t sure what I was doing here, the only thing running through my head that I was standing across from my best friend, and following him anywhere felt like the most natural thing on Earth. I sighed, “Fifteen minutes at your place. That’s it.”

  He shook his head, hand looping with mine as he guided us the opposite way down the street. His fingers intertwined with mine made my stomach swim, my knees weak, the taste of his lips on mine still intoxicating.

  Hawk took another turn down a side street, weaving farther away from my and Emerson’s house—at least he wasn't my neighbor. Small mercies for that.

  My heart stuttered to a halt when we approached a small, very familiar apartment complex. The very same apartment complex we’d lived in together for the first two years of college.

  The two years before he left.

  The two years before my entire world changed.

  “You live here?” I asked in disbelief.

  He only nodded, hand firmer in mine as we walked across the parking lot. He pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked a door on the bottom floor. “Only temporary. Got a place outside of town. This place had good memories, though.” He looked at me, a half grin turning his lips.

  That grin.

  Jesus, how could I have forgotten that grin?

  It sent cartwheels flipping in my stomach every time.

  What was I doing here?

  I should have gone straight home.

  “Seeing you today made me realize something, Morgan. Something that’s been buried a long time.” He was moving closer, his other hand catching mine. “I may have walked away from you then, but you’re just as much mine now as you were all those years ago.” His words crept up the curve of my neck, teeth nipping at my earlobe.

  Oh. God. Yes.

  “I shouldn't have left you here. I should have dragged you kicking and screaming along with me.”

  A part of me wished he would have.

  “Or I should have stayed, Morgan. Fuck, every day I kicked myself for not staying.”

  “W-what?” I stammered, brain fried with the way his hands were crawling up my waist, slipping under my shirt and making me putty in his hands.

  “I never stopped loving you, Morgan. Not a day went by that I didn’t love you.”

  His words sucked the air from the room.

  My vision darkened, my muscles weak before his hands were at my hips and pulling me against him.

  He hitched my legs around his waist. His hands were forcing their way into my hair, ripping out my ponytail and sending my hair in a cascade around us. Heaving pants of desperate breath racked us
both as our lips attached, our sanity gone, our love beating stronger than it ever had.

  I hated him.

  I loved him.

  I needed him.

  I needed this.

  “Oh, Hawk,” I sighed when his hand slipped under my skirt, fingers working against the fabric of my panties. I was aching, desperate, hungry for his body against mine.

  “Missed you, baby girl,” were the last words he said before his fingers slipped inside my panties and his lips covered my moans.

  I was lost.

  Hawk was back, and I’d already fallen down the rabbit hole.

  CONTINUE READING…

  More shamefully sexy and syrupy sweet reads from Aria Cole:

  Under Construction

  Under Her Hood

  White

  Swan

  Scarlet

  Bending Bethany

  Chasing Charlie

  Taking Tessa

  The Long Ball

  Banger