by Cora Carmack
When we were almost to the hotel, the driver took a turn too fast, and I had to hold her waist and shoulder to keep her from tumbling onto the floorboard.
She stirred. “What’s happening?”
Her eyes met mine, and I felt the shift in my thinking take root. I couldn’t leave her. Wouldn’t.
“We’re in a cab. I can’t be certain, but . . .” I tried to appear calm for her sake. “I’m pretty sure someone slipped something in that drink while it was sitting on the bar.”
She laid a hand across her eyes and groaned, “Fuck.”
“I tell you that you’ve been roofied and that’s all you have to say?”
“You tell me I’ve been roofied and expect me to say more?”
Even drugged, she had an attitude. And even though I wanted to get mad, I couldn’t. Not when she was like this. I trailed my fingers through her damp hair, wishing I could do more.
She laid a hand over mine on her stomach, lacing our fingers together. She fell asleep that way, but we arrived at the hotel less than a minute later.
I paid the driver, and then as carefully as I could, maneuvered her out of the cab. I tried my best to keep her covered by her dress, but the desk clerk still stared as I entered the building.
I didn’t bother getting her a new room. There wasn’t enough time, and I didn’t want her out in public like this any longer than she had to be.
She blinked up at me in the elevator, her lips marred by a frown.
“You scare me,” she said.
The air turned solid in my lungs. What did she think I would do to her? I struggled to take a deeper breath and then, as slowly and calmly as I could, said, “You have nothing to be scared of. I won’t . . . I wouldn’t. I’ll help you get to bed, and then I’ll leave, get another room.”
She shook her head.
“Not that. I don’t think that.”
“Then why do I scare you?”
“Because I don’t want you to see.”
She wasn’t making any sense. She didn’t want me to see her like this? The situation was hardly her fault, and it wasn’t as though I hadn’t been there the other night when she’d been so drunk that she’d gotten sick.
“See what?”
I shouldered open the door to my hotel room at the same time that she said, “Me.”
I stood in the entryway for a few moments, stunned into silence before I felt the cold, wet fabric of her swimsuit soaking through my T-shirt. I crossed the room quickly and gently lowered her into a cushioned chair.
I laid the things I’d gotten from the coat check at her feet, and then knelt in front of her.
“Why wouldn’t you want me to see you, Kelsey?”
She sealed her lips and shook her head.
“Kelsey, look at me.”
She did, reluctantly. She looked miserable. I pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. It was selfish, but I wanted to be the one person who got to see her. I wanted to be the only one with whom she didn’t feel the need to hide. “You are beautiful, that’s all I see.”
Her eyes went glassy, and I hated not knowing what to do to help her. As I watched, her head began to nod and she struggled to stay upright.
I cleared my throat, but still didn’t know what to do. She needed to rest. That was my best guess. “I, um, we should get you out of your wet swimsuit.”
I felt sick thinking about it, but I also didn’t want her to get a cold from sleeping in wet clothes.
She yawned. “Okay.” She tried to stand, but her legs wobbled and she started sinking back toward the chair before I caught her. She looked up at me as our bodies pressed together, and I had to force my eyes away because I swear I saw desire there.
She fumbled with the knot at her hip, where her complicated swimsuit connected. I watched her uselessly pluck at the fabric, her fingers weak.
In a small, quiet voice, she said, “I can’t.”
I had hold of her arms, but the rest of her body began to fall.
“It’s okay. I’ll help. It’s okay.”
Anything to take that crushed look off her face.
I lowered her into the chair, but then took a few steps back because, fuck, I needed some distance. I exhaled, dragging my hands across the top of my head and down over my face.
“What the fuck am I doing?”
How in the world was I supposed to do this?
God, give me combat. Give me death and destruction.
But this? I didn’t know how to deal with this.
“Okay,” I said aloud. I could do it. Quick. Efficient. Just enough to make her comfortable. “Okay.”
Decided, I went to my suitcase and grabbed a clean T-shirt before returning to Kelsey. I got down on my knees in front of her and met her eyes. “Here, slip this on.”
This way I couldn’t see anything. Wouldn’t see anything.
She nodded, but didn’t move. After slipping the shirt over her head, I had to maneuver her arms through the sleeves. I was almost done when my forearm brushed against her chest, and she made a soft, sweet noise.
Fuck. Sorry. Damn it.
I berated myself silently before saying quietly, “Sorry.” Then I finished pulling the shirt on as fast as I could. Her eyes were more alert, and she watched my every move with a hunger in her gaze that was going to make this so much harder. I lowered her arm to her side, and then retreated to the other side of the room for another short break.
“Okay. Next step,” I said aloud, trying to approach this tactically. I needed to untie the knots at her hips, and then unwind the straps of fabric that wrapped around her waist and chest before attaching to the thin straps over her shoulders.
I lifted her from the chair and, with her in my arms, dragged back the covers on the bed. I laid her down and pulled the covers up to cover her.
I considered stopping there. But she shivered, and I knew I couldn’t.
I turned on the lamp next to the bed and knelt beside her. Then, like I was undressing my eighty-six-year-old grandma instead of Kelsey, I reached under the covers and found the knot of the swimsuit at her hip.
She stared at me, and I could only smile in a way that I hoped wasn’t creepy.
“Are you that scared of seeing me naked?” she asked.
I finished with the first knot quickly, detaching the strap of her top from her bottoms.
“I’m not scared, sweetheart.” In fact, I liked the idea entirely too much for me to feel comfortable in this situation. I added, “I promise I won’t look.”
I stretched my arm farther under the covers, trying to uncoil the fabric from her waist, but the rest of it wound beneath her body and I couldn’t manage to slide it out.
“Can you lift yourself up? That might be easier. ”
She tried. She tried so hard.
“I can’t.” Her voice shook, and I wanted to pour out a thousand apologies for making her feel weak.
I stood and sat on the bed next to her.
“Wrap your arms around my neck, and use me to pull yourself up.”
Slowly, she pulled her arms out from under the covers. I had to help her wrap her hands around the back of my neck, though.
“Just hold on.”
With her sitting up, I slipped my hands beneath the hem of the T-shirt that bunched around her hips. I pulled on the strap I’d untied from her hip, expecting it to unwind around her back to her chest. But when I pulled, nothing happened. The other part of the wrap must have been in the way.
“Damn it. The other piece is strapped over this one. Hang on.”
I snuck another hand beneath the T-shirt and under the material of her swimsuit. Holding the still taut piece of fabric out from her skin, I started pulling on the other strap. Kelsey’s fingers dug into the back of my neck, reminiscent of the way they had when we kissed, and I ha
d to pause to keep control. It didn’t help that her breath was skating across my jaw, warm and maddening.
“Hunt?”
I swallowed.
“Yeah?”
As I pulled the fabric from the first strap free, her fingers trailed from my neck to my jaw. “Tell me your other name. The one most people don’t call you.”
I paused to look in her eyes. Better than looking at her lips.
“You won’t remember it tomorrow, sweetheart.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to know, sweetheart.”
So much attitude.
I smiled briefly. With one strap loose, I let the hand that was holding the rest of the fabric up rest against her back. She swallowed, glancing down at my lips.
“Jackson. My name is Jackson Hunt.”
She smiled, and I returned it because I couldn’t help it.
“Well, Jackson Hunt. Stop being a pansy, and just take my clothes off.”
I laughed. Because this whole damn situation was ridiculous.
“You’re something else, you know that?”
“Like you said, I won’t remember it tomorrow. Let’s just get it over with.”
I groaned, scratching my nails across my jaw.
“But I’ll remember.” And I would never be able to look at her the same again.
She sighed, and then sat back against the pillow. My hand shifted from her back to her side as she lay down. With shaky hands, she pushed the covers down to her thighs, revealing the T-shirt that was bunched up around her rib cage.
I tore my hand away from where it curled around her waist and looked away from her smooth golden skin.
“Jesus, Kelsey.”
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
“It is, though. I can’t take advantage of you like that. Not when you’re not sober enough to make decisions with a clear head.”
She groaned. “You’re not taking advantage of me. Been there. Done that. It felt nothing like this.”
I jerked my head around.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
That hadn’t sounded like nothing.
“Kelsey—”
Who had taken advantage of her? Suddenly, I was so angry that I couldn’t see straight. All the pieces of me that had felt broken and useless where suddenly fused together, ready to fight whatever enemy had hurt her.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Just help me. Please? Please.”
I wanted to push her, but pushing was what had gotten us in this mess to begin with. If I’d never had that drink, never asked her that question . . .
I thought back to that moment in the elevator when her emerald eyes had met mine, and she said I scared her. I took a deep breath and tried to think like Rodriguez. He’d never pushed me to talk about my issues, not about the mom who left or the dad who didn’t care. He waited until I opened up on my own.
After a sigh, I did as she asked. With the covers back and the T-shirt up, I untied the other knot. I told myself it wasn’t any more than I’d seen at the baths. But when I began unwrapping the rest of the swimsuit from her body, I made sure my eyes were directed at her face. I was not going to be added to the list of people who’d taken advantage of her, who’d hurt her.
I leaned down over her and used a hand to lift up her midsection so I could unwrap the last strap. Too eager to be finished, I yanked on the swimsuit top and it slid off her body completely.
She gasped, arching her back, and her stomach brushed against my chest. I made a noise of frustration and exasperation, and slammed my eyes closed before I could be tempted to look.
As quickly as possible, I pulled the suit free from her arms and tossed it on the floor. I was still leaning over her when I opened my eyes. I looked at her lips, just for a second. But then she whimpered and . . . Damn it.
She breathed, “Jackson.”
She closed her eyes and lifted her lips toward mine. I knew she was attracted to me. And I’d thrown all my morals out the window when I kissed her earlier tonight, but I couldn’t do it again.
No matter how much I wanted to.
I owed her more than that.
I shifted away from her lips and kissed her cheek instead.
“I can’t. Not like this. If I’m going to cross this line, I sure as hell want you to remember it.”
Her hands gripped my waist.
“It’s not crossing a line if I want it.”
I swear to God she was like a siren. That’s why no one could say no to her.
“I want you, too. But you have no idea how many lines I’d be crossing, even if you were sober.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m getting you ready for bed, and then I’m saying good night.”
“Then get me ready for bed.”
She took my hand and placed it on her hip, where her swimsuit bottoms still rested. Needing to be done with this, I hooked my fingers under the fabric and pulled. I kept my eyes on the ceiling as I slipped the bottoms down her legs and past her feet. Then I pulled the blankets all the way up to her chin.
She caught my hand before I could pull away, holding it close to her face. My heart lurched.
“Don’t go.”
I smoothed a hand across my jaw.
“I have to. This isn’t a good idea.”
“I don’t want to wake up alone. If I don’t remember . . . I’ll . . . it will kill me. You don’t know . . .”
There was that mystery again. That glimpse of something that she wasn’t telling me, that she didn’t show anyone. That thing I couldn’t push to untangle no matter how tempted I was.
“Jackson, please.”
I couldn’t say no to her.
“Okay. Just . . . just give me a second.”
In the bathroom, I shucked off my own wet swim trunks in favor of some gym shorts. I looked in the mirror, but then wished I hadn’t.
I looked rough.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was that tonight I’d undone a year of hard work and commitment.
Either way, I was more worried about Kelsey than I was about me.
I would survive. That was what I did . . . against all odds. And somehow I knew that I wouldn’t relapse after that one drink, not when it could impair my ability to take care of her.
There was a sickening, sinking feeling in my gut that unraveled into theories about Kelsey and her past, and I wanted to punch something just so I didn’t have to think about it anymore.
Whatever had happened to her, there was more to Kelsey Summer’s story. There was a reason my drawings of her only worked when she looked sad.
Back in the room, I turned off the lamp beside the bed and settled down in the chair to sleep for the night.
I didn’t know Kelsey Summers. But I wanted to. If she would open up, if she would let me. I was a little afraid to admit how much I wanted from her.
Ten minutes after Kelsey fell asleep, my phone buzzed. Kelsey’s father.
No matter what I wanted, I was the last person in the world she should trust.
COMING SOON FROM CORA CARMACK
Texas, college football, and heart-stopping romance.
The perfect recipe for an unforgettable news series you won’t want to miss from
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Cora Carmack.
ALL LINED UP
Rusk University, Book 1
Two things in Texas are cherished above all else—
football and gossip.
My life has always been ruled by both.
When your dad is a coaching legend in Texas high school football, your life isn’t your own. Which is why Dallas Cole can’t wait to get to Rusk University and finally get out of her father’s shadow. But when he m
akes the jump to college ball—at her school, no less—it’s déjà vu all over again.
Half the guys on campus avoid her like the plague—not wanting to come close to the notorious hard-ass coach’s daughter—and the other half want to use her to get closer to the legend.
And then there’s Carson McClain, the hot, newly transferred second-string quarterback. He has no idea who she is, so when Carson approaches her at a party, Dallas decides, for once in her life, to kiss first and ask questions later. . . .
Coming Spring 2014
And don’t miss any of Cora Carmack’s
New York Times and USA Today bestselling
LOSING IT SERIES
Available Now
LOSING IT
Book 1
Virginity.
Bliss Edwards is about to graduate from college and still has hers. Sick of being the only virgin among her friends, she decides the best way to deal with the problem is to lose it as quickly and simply as possible—a one-night stand. But her plan turns out to be anything but simple when she freaks out and leaves a gorgeous guy alone and naked in her bed with an excuse that no one with half a brain would ever believe.
And as if that weren’t embarrassing enough, when she arrives for her first class of her last college semester, she recognizes her new theater professor.
She’d left him naked in her bed about eight hours earlier.
KEEPING HER
A Losing It Novella
Garrick Taylor and Bliss Edwards managed to find their happily-ever-after despite a rather . . . ahem . . . complicated start. By comparison, meeting the parents should be an absolute breeze, right?
But from the moment the pair lands in London, new snags just keep cropping up: a disapproving mother-in-law to be, an ex-girlfriend bent on a reunion, and a role in a play that will lead to nothing but trouble.
Garrick never imagined that the only thing harder than finding love is keeping it.
FAKING IT
Book 2
Mackenzie “Max” Miller has a problem. Her parents have arrived in town for a surprise visit, and if they see her dyed hair, tattoos, and piercings, they just might disown her. Even worse, they’re expecting to meet a nice wholesome boyfriend, not a guy named Mace who has a neck tattoo and plays in a band. All her lies are about to come crashing down around her, but then she meets Cade.
