by Claire Adams
"I know I fucked up. I should have come to you instead of making that decision for us."
"I felt so stupid. Like I thought we were doing so well, but then you did that and then suddenly you were gone." I was holding her before I could stop myself. She was stiff and small in my arms. She didn't fight me, though. She let me comfort her through her tears.
"I wasn't thinking. You were there for me and instead of talking to you, I took matters into my own hands and fucked everything up."
"You really hurt me, Roman," she said. Her tears were soaking into my shirt, and her voice was muffled against my chest. I squeezed her tight, kissing the top of her head.
"And, I hate myself for it, Ron. I hate what I did to you and what it did to us."
"I can't go through that twice," she said quietly. She pushed away from my chest, eyes trained on the ground. "If this is going to happen, I have to step away, Roman. If we say our goodbyes now, we-"
"No," I said, cupping her face so she looked up at me.
"Roman-"
"Veronica, please," I said. She looked down, shaking her head. "I fucked up and I made a bad decision, which lost me the woman I love. I'm not going to make that mistake twice." More tears flowed down her cheeks.
"I really want that to be true," she whispered.
"It is, baby." I kissed her softly. I just wanted to comfort her, stop her crying because I hated making her upset. It was all my fault, so it was my job to fix it. She pressed her full lips into mine again, wrapping her arms around my neck. I hugged her close. One of her hands ran down my chest, all the way down my abs to the waist of my pants.
"Will you stay with me tonight?" she asked.
"Of course. Whatever you want." Her other hand ran over my shoulder. Our eyes locked again.
"I want you," she said simply. Her hands were at the waist of my pants, pulling the belt free. She unsnapped the button, and her hand was closing around my cock through my underwear.
"Fuck," I groaned. She dropped to the ground, tugging my pants and underwear on her way down. She gripped my semi and jerked the tip, slowly. Those clear green eyes stared up at me. It had been a fucking year since I’d had my dick sucked. I hoped I could last long enough to enjoy this.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Veronica
Roman's head fell back. A long string of expletives streamed from his clenched teeth, making me giggle. He loved having his balls sucked, more than other guys I'd been with. I kept my hand on his cock, jerking the head while I took his balls into my mouth in turn, gently. They were sensitive, after all.
I rolled them in my cupped hand and turned my attention to his cock again. After our conversation, I sort of liked being in charge, owning his pleasure and having him at my mercy. It made me feel like he was mine. Owning a person's body mattered less to me than emotional connection, but I’d had all of him once and I wanted it back.
I ran my tongue over the tip before sucking the head into my mouth. Little by little, I took him into my mouth. I swallowed around his length, doing my best to take as much of him as I could without gagging. Either he was bigger than the last time I had done this or I had gotten rusty.
I took the hand fisting in my hair as encouragement. I bobbed up and down, feeding him into my throat on every down stroke. My hand jerked the root, which I couldn't get my lips around.
"Godammit, Ronnie," I heard him whisper. He was groaning, deep, sexy sounds from his throat, cussing under his breath and gently tugging at my hair.
"Slow down," he said, breathlessly. "You don't stop, I'm gonna come." I gave him a few, last good sucks, hollowing my cheeks out on my way back up, then let him pop free of my mouth. I looked up at him, and he offered me a hand to help me back up. Before I knew it, he had scooped me up in his arms. My back pressed into the wall and then he kissed me. He was clawing at my panties to get them off. I slid them down, afraid he'd rip them.
He hoisted me up against the wall once my panties were out of the way. He ground his rod against my clit, holding my legs open. I bit back my cry, self-conscious that my neighbors would hear us. I reached between us, guiding him to my lips so he slid smoothly inside. He was big, but it never hurt when he was inside me. I felt full like he fit me perfectly. I gushed when he fucked me. The pleasure at my core flowed through my whole body.
Every one of his deep thrusts hit me like a bullet. Something about the angle made me gasp every time our hips met. I bit my lip, leaning back against the wall.
"Harder," I whispered. His next thrust made me yelp, arching my back against the wall because he hit my clit. Again. Again. I felt myself quiver. I wanted the wave to crest higher, but my orgasm burst inside of me, and I would have ended up on the floor if Roman wasn't holding me up. He pushed into me, chest to chest, then fucked me with quick, short, frantic strokes. He grunted, tightening his hold on my thighs before a groan ripped from his chest. He pumped in and out of me through his orgasm, and I felt him fill me up. Our pants soon silenced, and the room became still again.
He held me to the wall with his hips, kissing me. He was still inside me, but softening now. I was barely aware of anything else but his strong arms, taking my weight again when we were in my room suddenly. My back gently hit the bed as his body took the space on top of me. I knew he wouldn't be able to go again so soon after coming, but what was happening now? His lips kissing me slowly and deeply felt incredible. The comfort of feeling him close to me after what we just did heated me through.
Lying there, I believed him. It was all true. He loved me and he was sorry and he wanted us to start again. Things would be different this time, but it didn't matter because we had both grown from the situation and we'd know how to handle ourselves. It sounded tempting. Almost too good to be true.
I couldn't hold this over him forever, but wasn't it worse if I just trusted him blindly again? It had been a great few weeks reconnecting, but a great few weeks wasn't enough to make me forget the months I had spent trying to get over him after he dumped me. He reassured me whenever we were together that I had nothing to worry about, but trust isn't built in a day. The trust I used to have in him had been built over years of love and friendship. It was coming back, slowly, the comfort that used to be there.
If what I needed was time, then I hadn't had enough.
We ended up in the shower together, you know, to save water. We did it again, him behind me as I braced myself against the tiled wall. I was tired by the time we were in my bed together. He slept behind me, one arm thrown over my side and our bodies molded together, naked. He was asleep before I was and after two orgasms, I should have been more tired. My racing thoughts wouldn't let me rest, though.
Stop it, I thought. Stop looking for reasons to keep doubting him. This, him, the two of you finally back together is what you want. Stop looking for a way to self-sabotage.
Was it self-sabotage if the goal was actually to take care of myself? Being on the defensive was an unhealthy way to get into a relationship, but could you blame me? Even if I wasn't and I was just looking at the facts, pretended I had no involvement in this at all and was just a third party bystander, what would it look like to me?
Guy and girl get back together after a year apart. The guy is on the fast track to becoming a pro football player and the girl's just trying to maintain her GPA through summer semester. He's wanted to go pro all his life. Money, fame, and a career he's always wanted can all be his except for one little problem: the girl.
Faced with the decision, what does he choose?
What would I choose if I were him?
He kept saying this stuff about working it out, talking and figuring something out that didn't have to mean that we had to break up again. Even if that happened though, what was that? Long distance? How long did those last? How long would we if we were trying it? How long before he got caught up in his new world of professional sports and eventually getting caught up in some other girl's shorts?
What about me? I still had to graduate, and I wanted to
travel. I wanted to start working and develop a lifestyle that I enjoyed. Would there be room for him anymore? Maybe I would meet someone and maybe the fact that the guy was with me physically and not miles away would be enough to make me choose him instead of Roman.
I wasn't making myself feel better, but why start crying about it now? This was us and if we kept being us, then it was what we'd have to face, later if not now. No, definitely not now. Right now was bedtime. A quiet night close to each other, intimate and peaceful. I tried again to slow my thoughts down because they would just ruin this for me.
I wriggled against Roman's hold so I could turn and look at him. I noticed how long his lashes looked when his eyes were closed and how young and handsome he was, too. I touched his bristly cheek, gently, but not gently enough not to wake him. He sighed deeply and his eyes opened, focusing on me.
"Hey," he said.
"Hi."
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. I just couldn't sleep." I leaned down and kissed his forehead, then his lips.
"What's wrong?" he asked me, leaning up on one elbow.
"Nothing," I reassured him, touching his chest. "I'm glad you're here with me."
"I am, too," he said. He pushed a tuft of my hair back behind my ear and kissed me. I deepened the kiss, pushing my tongue into his mouth and rolling over top of him. I reached between us for his dick.
"Round three, babe?" he asked, flirtatiously. He held me around the waist and flipped us over so I was on my back. I wanted him. I didn't want to think about a dark future that hadn't come yet. I just wanted to be there with him, for everything else to fade out and feel like I had him, right now, fuck the past and the future.
I gasped as he pushed into me. I closed my eyes and felt him – his heat, hardness, weight on top of me, tongue and lips on my skin. Even if he was leaving again, he was mine right now and nobody could take that away from me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Roman
Ron had signed herself up for morning classes for the summer. I was flying out to Houston for the combine, through Sioux Falls. My flight there from here was at eight thirty, and I didn't want the texts we had sent over the weekend to be the last things I said to her before leaving.
It was a week. Just a week. I had been telling myself that since I had gotten confirmation that I was in. Now, it felt a week too long.
Things were finally feeling good between us, the way they had been before I left, and now I wouldn't see her for a week. I parked in front of her building and headed inside. She had said I'd be able to catch her before her class if I went by early. I hoped a few minutes to seven wasn't too early. Walking up her stairs, I wished I had slept over or that we lived together.
I'd never tell her, not this early that that was what I wanted, but it was. Whatever happened this week would probably tell me whether we could even do that or not, but like I'd told her, we'd talk about it. I was feeling pretty confident, but I wasn't dumb. It would take more than confidence to get me signed anywhere.
I knocked and waited for her to answer. She was in small cotton shorts and a t-shirt that didn't quite cover her stomach when she opened the door – her pajamas.
"Hey," I said walking in. She leaned up to kiss me.
"You're right on time, breakfast's ready," she said, shutting the door.
"You cooked?" I asked, walking into her place.
"Frittata. Are you hungry?" I’d had coffee and cold pizza, just stuff I hadn't wanted to leave in the fridge while I was gone, but I could eat.
"Smells great." She pushed her textbooks and laptop over to the side on her table, freeing up two spots for us. I helped her grab a couple plates as she got the food out of the oven.
"Let's hope it tastes good, too," she said. She cut me a piece first. It had cauliflower, sausage, onion, and spinach in it.
"This is great," I said, trying it.
"Yeah?" she asked, smiling. I had some more. She had always cooked, but this was definitely a level up from what we used to eat when we got together. Cheese toast and ramen did the trick when you didn’t care to make anything better, but this was nice. She sat back in her seat, holding her coffee in both hands.
"I'm glad you like it."
"I wanted to see you before I left."
"Are you nervous?" she asked, before scoffing and shaking her head. "Of course you aren't. You'll do great." It was like she was mad and happy about it at the same time.
"Maybe I will be when I see who I'm up against," I offered.
"You'll still do great, though. You always did."
"That's the plan."
"Good luck. I hope it works out," she said. It sounded so final when she did, like I wouldn’t be back this time next week.
"I hope so, too. I'm kind of torn."
"Why?"
"I know the timing is shitty, but it's just a week. I don't feel good about slowing down right when things are picking up."
"Who said anything was picking up?" she tried to joke, halfheartedly.
I knew she felt it, too. She was just trying to be nice, saying she hoped I did well. The best thing that could possibly happen between us was me getting there and just not being good enough, the year off catching up to me and sending me back home empty handed. I didn't want that, but it would make things easier.
"I'm gonna call you while I'm gone," I said.
"It's going to be a busy week. I'll understand if you can't."
"That isn't an option, Ron. I'm serious about this. It's not fair to keep you hanging while I'm gone."
"Just stay focused," she said shrugging. "I know how much this means to you. This could be a great thing for your career." Again, it was coming from Ron, but still somehow sounded a little disingenuous. Like it was the same thing an aunt who had never really known you, but found out about the event would say.
"It means a lot that I have your support."
"I know how much you want to do this. I..." She trailed off and sighed. "It doesn't matter how I feel about it because the way that you do is going to affect that. I want you to be happy. I know this is what it's going to take."
"It's just a week. I'll text you when I get there." She was looking down into her coffee cup.
"Okay," she said shrugging again. We finished eating, and I left, after one more kiss at the door.
How much would I hate myself if I blew this off? I wondered. That was a dangerous thought to have, but I was having it. I wasn't not going to go, but what if I didn't? It would probably make Ron happy if nothing else. If she was serious about wanting it to work out because it was what I wanted, then maybe going would be the thing that made her happy, even though it wouldn't in the short run. I hated how complicated it was.
She got a raw fucking deal dating me, I thought on my way to the airport. It had always just been easier to think about this shit happening. Now that it was happening, I wanted to make it easier for her somehow. It had all started when I had gotten deployed. If that hadn't happened, I would be graduating with her next year and trying to get drafted out of school.
Things could have gone differently during my deployment, and I took responsibility for that. It didn't change the fact that this was still going to be harder for her than it would be for me. I had been dreading the trip out, but now, I wasn't so sure about who I'd meet when I came to her apartment when I got back.
I touched down in Houston after most of the day in the air. We started immediately. During previous years, the event used to be held at the team’s training facility, but this year was a little different. This combine was at the stadium. It was massive, and could seat close to 80,000 people. Out of all the regional combines, the one here in Houston seemed to always have the highest number of competitors. There had to be something like three hundred guys competing.
The field was full of people, but it was easy to tell everyone apart. None of the players were in suits, none of the scouts or team managers were there to take part. Football was like any other industry: it h
elped when you knew people and politics and business mattered. That was part of the reason why after games, athletes always had interviews and had to take part in other corporate events. It sucked if all you wanted to do in the first place was play ball, but the players were who made the league. Without them, it would just be all the suits at the top who wouldn’t have any way to make money without the guys throwing the balls. Making conversation didn’t hurt.
Since it was a scouting event, you were doing the right thing if you were talking to them. It would only make things better for you if you made a good impression during the evaluations and they actually got your name and talked to you personally. That was who I had to worry about, not the other guys here. They were my competition, but they had to worry about themselves.
Football was a team sport, but we weren’t working as teams right now. I wasn’t nervous. I had hit 40 reps with 225 in the gym this past week, maxing out at 41. None of the other evaluations scared me. I wasn’t all the way back up to my game weight yet, but I could probably get away with being a little lighter since I was tall.
I didn’t bother watching any of the other guys before me. I wasn’t picking up tips. I was taking a swig out of a bottle of water, rounding the field, looking for some shade when someone stopped me. They were wearing suits. Scouts. One was taller, but both had dark glasses on. They caught my attention, waving me over.
“You Roman Blake?” the shorter one asked me.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I told you it was him,” he said, elbowing the other guy in the side. “Lucky I never made you put money on it.”
“Can I help you guys with anything?”
“You know the kind of rumors spread about you, kid?” the taller one asked.
“Can’t say I do.”
“A lot of us never thought we’d see you get past college level. When you fell off? What was that?”
“Had to take a break, but I’m here now. Honestly, I never thought I’d make it to one of these.”
