Intercepted
Page 15
I try to use his chest for cover, but it’s shaking too hard to get a firm grip on.
“I got it, babe.” And I can hear the smile in the jerk’s voice. “I just like listening to you ramble when you get nervous.”
“You’re such an asshole. Next time, can you at least do it when I have clothes on or, at the bare minimum, am under a blanket?”
“I can’t make any promises.” He climbs out of the bed and stops to let his gaze travel down the length of my body once more. “But I do like that you said there will be a next time.”
“Don’t be all sexy and sweet when I’m trying to be irritated with you!” I call to his back as he walks into the bathroom.
“Keyword was ‘trying.’” He reappears in the doorway, still naked, only missing the condom I’m assuming he flushed. “So, what do you say, Miss Harper? Are we going steady now?”
“Yes, Mr. Pope, we’re going steady.”
He doesn’t say anything to my answer. Instead, he saunters across the room, his gorgeous manhood swaying between his legs with every step until his gets to the edge of the bed and climbs over me.
“What are you doing?” I ask when he starts moving down the bed.
“Giving my girl a kiss.”
“But my head is up here.” I pop up on my elbows, watching as he pulls the comforter from my stomach.
“I’m kissing a different set of lips,” he says and punctuates it with his tongue dipping into my core.
Damn.
“Holy shit,” I whisper to the ceiling. “I love being your girlfriend.”
And the vibrations from his quiet laughter between my legs only make me like it that much more.
#Bliss
Twenty-three
It wasn’t what either of us wanted, but Gavin went home later that night. I was finishing up on one of my final freelance projects before I focused entirely on HERS. Plus, I had to get all of my stuff from my parents’ house before I even went into work.
Adulting sucks.
The next morning, I wake up to knocking on my door. When I open it, on the other side is Gavin, standing there in his Mustangs sweatpants and sweatshirt, holding a large vanilla latte and a croissant.
Swoon.
My boyfriend is so dreamy.
He gives me my goodies and a quick kiss—which turns into a long kiss—before swatting me on the butt and leaving to go to practice.
I go back inside, and even though I technically still have thirty minutes to sleep before I need to be up, I get an early start on the day.
When I walk into HERS an hour later, not only am I early, I’m grinning so wide it’s a wonder I don’t have bugs stuck in my teeth.
“Well, well, well,” Brynn says when she sees me. “Looks like somebody’s date was a success.”
“If me being Gavin’s girlfriend means it went well, then yeah. You could say that.”
“Freaking finally. You two were driving me nuts. But dammit!” She looks around the room and stops when she finds Paisley. “You win, Paisley. They’re dating now.”
“What the hell? You bet on us?”
“Of course we did.” She looks at me like I’m the crazy one. “He was sending you like, a million flowers a day. You thought we weren’t going to get in on that action?”
“Jerks.” I shake my head and walk away before my smile breaks free again.
The rest of the day passes like my days normally do. Uneventful. Which, after the last week, I should be happy about. But I don’t know. Gavin Pope’s my boyfriend. It kind of feels like confetti should be thrown in the air whenever I walk into a room.
Since business was slow today, Brynn let me leave early and I took the time to do some grocery shopping. Gavin’s going to be coming over more and I hate eating out all the time, especially now that I work at a restaurant, so I try to keep my kitchen stocked. Before Gregory Scumbag Thomas was arrested, my dad was driving me to and from the store, but now that the coast is clear, I grab my little grocery cart from home and hop on the train. Not having my dad nagging me about looking at every aisle, I take longer than I mean to and when I leave, the sun is long gone. I walk to the train, trying to think happy thoughts as the streetlights flicker on and off over my head.
Once at the train platform, I park my cart of groceries next to me and sit on one of the empty benches. I open my text messages, about to send one to Gavin, when a hand grabs on to my shoulder. A scream rips out of my throat, probably pushed out from my heart trying to escape with it. I jerk my shoulder out of the grasp and I’m not even all the way upright before I start to run.
“Marlee,” Gavin calls my name before I make it to the edge of the platform. “It’s just me.”
“Holy shit!” I stop and turn around. “You almost gave me a heart attack!” I put both of my hands over my head as I make my way back toward him. My breathing is still ragged and each inhale causes the burn in my chest to go a little deeper.
This is why I avoid running and haunted houses at all costs.
“I called your name two or three times before I came over here.” He reaches for the backpack I was willing to abandon. “What were you doing that you couldn’t hear me?”
“I was thinking about what to text you.”
“Ooh . . . you were, were you?” His voice drops, and he wiggles his eyebrows.
He looks ridiculous, but I’d still totally do him. Who could blame me? A girl’s got needs.
“Not that kind of text.” I pat his shoulder. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“I went to see you at HERS, but Brynn said you went to the store. I was heading there when I saw you pushing your old lady corral.” He wraps his arm around me, pulling my freezing body into his warm one. “Plus it’s cold. You don’t want to wait out here, do you?”
“Aren’t you the sweetest.” I hug him a little tighter.
“I am, but don’t tell anybody,” he whispers even though we’re alone. “You’ll ruin my street cred.”
When we arrive at his truck, ever the gentleman, he opens my door for me before walking to the driver’s side and climbing in.
“Can I sleep at your place tonight?” he asks over the radio. “I know we both have work tomorrow, but one night in bed with you and you already have me addicted.”
“Of course you can. You don’t even have to ask.” Thankfully, the dark sky prevents him from seeing the way my cheeks flame and the way my thighs press together, but the grin that overtakes my face is unmistakable.
“Good. It would’ve been embarrassing to have to explain why I have a duffel bag with my stuff in it if you said no.” He points to the bag I didn’t even notice under my feet.
#ShortPeopleProblems
“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed this yet or not, but I seem to have a really hard time telling you no.”
“Since you said that, maybe now is as good a time as ever to mention . . .” He says that terrifying sentence and then stops.
“Mention what? You can’t stop there, Seacrest! This isn’t American Idol, there are no commercial breaks before the announcement.” When in doubt, always use reality shows to help drive home your point.
“Did you just call me Seacrest? I’m pretty sure I have about a foot and sixty pounds on that guy.”
“Oh my god. First, that was a fantastic metaphor. Second, will you just say what you were going to say already? You’re freaking me out!”
“You’re the only person I know who argues with pop culture references.”
“Gavin!” I’m about to resort to physical violence, but he seems to sense I’m getting there and starts talking.
“I talked to Dre today. He said Naomi misses you at the games. And I want you at the games. So I was hoping you’d start going again. The next two games are away, but after that, would you want to come?” He rushes out in a single breath.
“No, Dre warned me. He said Naomi hasn’t been able to decide if she enjoys not fearing you starting a brawl or not.”
“That was one time! How was I supposed to know everyone around us would get so upset?” I try to defend myself, but when he stops at a red light and turns his wide eyes my way, I see the error of my ways. “I mean . . . if that ever actually happened it would only happen once . . .”
“I thought they were exaggerating!”
“I just get a little . . . intense when I go to games.” I shrug. “I’m competitive. So kill me.”
“Do me a favor, try not to start any fights when you come to the game. I think I might get a fine if I run into the stands to fight some guy.” They’re pretty strict about that stuff, but . . .
“No promises. Lenny’s probably been bored out of his mind without me.”
“Who the hell is Lenny?” he asks, probably already thinking of ways to revoke his invitation.
#NoTakeBacks
“He checks the tickets for section 112. I’ve been sitting in his section for years. He loves it when I give him a little extra excitement.”
“God help me,” he asks the roof. “No promises because she’s got a fucking attendant who loves her antics.”
“Not even god can help you, Pope,” I say once I’ve stopped laughing. “Don’t worry, you’ll learn to love my antics.”
“I have no doubt.”
And the way he says it, I can’t help but wonder if he’s talking about more than my game-time behavior.
Twenty-four
Once the two away games finally pass by, Naomi and I plan for her to pick me up and ride to the game together. However, before that can happen, she calls and requests an emergency meeting.
I’m not shocked.
I guess some drama went down at this week’s Wednesday meeting, most likely the unusual pairing of Marlee (the groupie) and Gavin (the naive).
Plus, Naomi has a flare for the dramatic and why discuss things over the phone when you can call an emergency meeting?
And in Naomi’s terms . . . and mine . . . an emergency meeting can constitute a sleepover at my house, filled with all sorts of Girl Scout activities like working on our bedazzling, margarita, and gossip badges.
“I’ve missed these.” Naomi takes a sip out of her margarita glass without lifting the glass, even though she finished painting her nails thirty minutes ago and there’s no way they’re still wet. “I’ve missed you too, but your margaritas are the best.”
“Thank you . . . I think.” I walk to the kitchen and grab the blender with the rest of the margarita in it.
Tequila goes well with gossip, but I have to admit, I’m a little nervous about what our shirts are going to look like. I spent a mint ordering all these crystals, so this is kind of a one-shot gig.
I pour the remainder of the drink into Naomi’s glass and pick my tweezers back up, returning to my bedazzling project.
“Now that you have me drunk, are you ready to hear about the last meeting?” she asks.
“I think I’m the one who needs to be drunk for this, but sure.” I’m lying on the floor, my face only inches away from my shirt as I drop the bling onto the glue. It was so much easier ordering my Alexander jersey from the jersey lady. This is stupid.
“Okay, so good news or bad news first?”
“Bad.”
“Shit.” She looks at me over the rim of her glass. “I thought you’d choose good news. You gotta hear that first or it won’t work.”
I roll onto my back, knocking over the plate holding all the crystals.
“Dammit!” I glare at her. “Why’d you even ask me then?”
I climb to my knees and crawl around the floor, collecting all the rogue bling.
“Sorry.” She shrugs, not looking sorry at all. “So the good news is Ava broke up with Chris.”
“Shut up!” I turn to her, eyes wide, crystals long forgotten. “Are you kidding me?”
“Nope. She dumped him for an NBA player, said a football player’s life is ‘too unpredictable’ for her.” She uses air quotes. “But we all know she means a football player’s paycheck. NBA is that guaranteed money, honey.” She snaps at me in Z formation.
“Does it make me a horrible person for finding this so funny?” I ask, wiping away the tears falling down my cheeks from laughing so hard.
“Not at all. Karma’s a bitch. We’re allowed to laugh once she’s done her job.” She says it like it’s written in the Ten Commandments. Which, maybe it is? I wouldn’t know.
“Oh good. I like that rule.” I turn back to my shirt, but then I remember that was only the good news and I still have the bad to go and roll back onto my elbows. “What’s the bad?”
“There are two things.” She puts both hands in the air when I open my mouth to yell at her. “Hey! Don’t shoot the messenger. Would you want to get sent into battle without proper intel first? No, you wouldn’t.”
“Ugh. Fine.” I move to the couch and sit next to her. The good news was too good. I know what’s coming is going to suck. “Tell me.”
“Chris has a new girlfriend.” She just floats it out there.
“Already?” Why this shocks me? Who knows. I already know he’s got a roster.
“It’s Gavin’s PR chick, Madison. You know, the one you called Snobby the Snow Bitch.”
The fast, Band-Aid-ripping delivery worked with the first news. This one? Not so much. This was like ripping out stitches before they were ready to come out.
“What!” I jump off of the couch into standing position. “Nay. You’re messing with me. My ex is not dating Gavin’s good friend who I’m pretty sure hates me, is he? This is your attempt at a joke, right?” I stare at her, waiting for her to start laughing, but she never does.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t believe it either when she showed up at the meeting on Wednesday.”
“WHAT!” I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry.
I dated Chris for years before those bitches let me in and Madison dates Chris for what? A week? And they let her in? No. Fuuuuuuuck no. Smells like a setup.
“And there’s more.” Naomi squeezes her eyes shut and bites her bottom lip.
“What the hell else could’ve happened? It was one meeting.” I fall back onto the couch beside her, not sure if I can stand more news if it’s anything like the last. “Just say it, Nay.”
Her eyes stay closed as she draws in a deep breath.
“DixiewashuggingMadisonandtalkingaboutyoutoo,” she says too fast for me to understand.
“Slow down. All I got was Dixie.” In hindsight, I probably should’ve saved the margaritas for after story time.
“Dixie was hugging Madison and talking about you too,” she says slower, not by much . . . but enough for me to understand and wish I didn’t.
“Dixie?” All the anger has fled and now it’s being filled with hurt, which really sucks, because it’s so much easier to be angry. “But she just texted me the other day.”
“Yeah, on Tuesday to see if you wanted to grab lunch.”
I run the days back through my head and almost—but don’t—cry when I realize she’s right.
“She told us you said you were busy but would find a day that worked. If you would’ve said yes, I would’ve told you sooner. I promise. But since you said no, I figured it’d be better to tell you in person.” She looks so nervous telling me this, and I feel terrible that she’s been put in this situation. “She said she thinks you lied about the attack just so you could have a chance to sink your claws into Gavin. Don’t hate me.”
>
“I could never.” I pull out Gavin’s favorite move and squeeze her hand. “It’s not your fault they’re bitches.”
“I don’t want you to think I sat there while they rattled off bullshit and I didn’t have your back.” She sits up straight and looks me in the eyes. “I did. I went a little crazy on Dixie and that bitch Madison. I left early, and I told Dre I might not go back.”
“No. Go back. The children’s hospital event is coming up, and I know how much you love helping those kids. Don’t you dare stop.” I take a deep breath and lower my volume. “Freakin’ Dixie. If they’ll talk with you, they’ll talk about you. My mom always tells me that. Why do I never listen to her?”
“Because—” She starts but is interrupted by a knock on the door.
I’m not expecting anybody. Brynn had to close HERS and she’s opening tomorrow so she couldn’t come, and . . . well . . . I don’t have any other friends who would just drop by. But since the attack they haven’t found James, and even though I don’t think he’d ever actually hurt me, I’m still on guard more than normal.
“Who is it?” I ask, ignoring Naomi’s laughter when I have to stand on a footstool to see out of the peephole.
“Me,” Gavin says just as I verify his identity.
I jump off of the stool and kick it to the side, unlocking the door as fast as I can.
The players spend the night in hotels, even the night before home games. I think it’s stupid, but I guess it’s so the coaches can keep tabs on the grown men they’re paying millions of dollars to catch a ball. They have a strict schedule and a curfew, so I’m more than a little shocked to see Gavin here.
“Hey!” I kiss him when the door opens all the way. “What are you doing here?”
“This.” He puts his hands under my ass, lifts me up, and starts kissing me again.
“Holy shit,” I say, out of breath and dizzy when he puts me back on my feet. “What was that for?”
“It’s our first home game with you as my girl. I needed a good luck kiss before I went to bed.” He leans in for a quick kiss. “I’ll call you before the game tomorrow.”