by Ava McKnight
I stared quizzically at him, a dismal thought occurring to me. “Please don’t tell me you’re gay. That would just crush me, Carter.”
He laughed heartily, surprising me. “That is definitely not something you have to worry about. I am so very straight—in fact, I’m having all kinds of straight-guy thoughts about you.”
My clit tingled and my pussy clenched. I could barely breathe, but managed to say, “Do tell.”
Carter laughed again as he shook his head. “Don’t encourage me.”
“Why not?” I demanded as excitement shot through me. “Surely you’ve noticed I’m wildly attracted to you.”
He seemed to give my words thought, then said, “Surely you’ve noticed I can’t keep my eyes off you. My hands, however, need to be another story.”
I frowned as disappointment gripped my very soul. “You’ve lost me.”
He stood and began to pace. Raking a hand through his thick, dark brown hair, he told me, “You are incredibly beautiful, Cherish. And you’ve completely blindsided me tonight. I’ll admit I’d considered contacting you when I knew I was coming back to Phoenix, but I also knew it was a bad idea.”
My heart sank. “Oh?”
Carter came to an abrupt halt and faced me. “The thing is, I always liked you. I mean really liked you. But your size made me nervous. It still does.”
I got to my feet as well and planted my hands on my hips as annoyance skittered through me. “Hey, I’m not Tinkerbell anymore. Take a good look, stud. I’m all grown up.”
He chuckled at my words, and no doubt my irritation.
“I can see you’re all grown up. That’s the problem.” His warm brown eyes skimmed my body and he added, “You’re amazing. And goddamn, I really want to kiss you. But I can’t.”
I gnawed my lower lip briefly, then ventured, “You’re engaged? Or involved with someone?”
Not that I’d be surprised, but I hadn’t allowed myself to consider the possibility, since he hadn’t been connected with anyone publicly in a few years.
But he quickly chased away the dread that settled in by saying, “No, I’m not involved with anyone. I haven’t been for a while.”
He closed the gap between us and took my hand, urging me to sit with him once more.
“So you’re attracted to me,” I said, “and I’m attracted to you. Why is that cause for alarm? And if you say anything related to my size, I’m going to kick you in the shin.”
He grinned at me, and my stomach flipped. “I don’t think of you as Tinkerbell anymore. In fact, I’d completely forgotten the nickname.”
I could kick myself for having reminded him. “Then what’s the problem?”
Carter gave me a long, contemplative look. My curiosity soared off the charts, but I forced myself to patiently await his answer. His expression turned grave, and that was cause for alarm.
In a tight voice, he said, “You asked me earlier why I gave up my career with the 49ers for arena football. It wasn’t an easy decision to reconcile in my mind, but technically a no-brainer. The truth is, I can’t heave the ball down a hundred-yard field anymore. Arena ball is played on a fifty-yard field. A much more manageable distance for me.”
His inner turmoil swirled in his dark irises and the agonized look made my chest constrict.
“What’s the deal, Carter?”
“Off the record?” he asked, his jaw set.
“Absolutely. I swear I won’t write a word about any of this if you don’t want me to.”
Sorry, Taylor.
He was quiet a moment, then let out a long breath. Finally, he said, “The truth is, I need surgery. I’ve got a crushed rotator cuff and a partially detached biceps I’m only making worse by continuing to play. It’s my throwing arm. I have an MRI every few months to monitor the situation, but the fact is, I need to have the shoulder operated on sooner rather than later. I had intended to do it during the 49ers off-season, but management wanted to put me on the disabled list and look for a new starter. So I put it off. Then the Rattlers came calling, and I saw a different opportunity. They’ll give me the chance to get the operation and still be their star.”
“Oh, Carter.” I reached over and placed my hand atop his. “I’m so sorry.”
He looked miserable as he said, “I need this season. I need to kick ass on that field and take the team to the championship game to prove my worth. The contract I signed is for an unprecedented amount, and I have to show the team and management I’m worth it.”
“That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself.”
“I don’t have a choice.” The conviction in his voice—mixed with a hint of resignation—was compelling, and it further stirred my emotions. “This stint with the Rattlers will likely be my last. They know about my arm, but offered me a three-year deal anyway. I assured them I could win games for the term of the contract. And they really wanted me. Now I’ve got to see this through, because no other team is going to pick me up if I continually have complications with my shoulder and am constantly on the DL.”
“But if your shoulder and your arm aren’t strong enough for you to throw the ball—”
“I’ve been muscling through the pain for some time. I can make it through the end of this season. I have no choice,” he repeated, a dire look on his face.
A disconcerting thought slithered through my mind. “Not to cast a dark cloud over your head, Carter, but what if you do make it through the season, have the surgery and it doesn’t work? What if you’re no better off than before the operation? I’ve heard of that happening. I have a friend who had rotator cuff surgery years ago for a tennis injury and she’s still in pain.”
He shook his head. “I refuse to even consider that, Cherish. Even a little help will be something, so if it’s not one-hundred percent successful, I’ll still be able to power through.”
“For two more seasons?” My stomach coiled at the thought of him playing in agony. “That’s a lot, Carter. I mean, seriously. You could even end up doing more damage.”
“I’ll have some of the best physical therapists at my disposal. Not to mention, I’ve already chosen a top-notch surgeon who specializes in this type of injury. I know what I’m doing.”
He finally slid his tie off, tossing the colorful material toward his discarded jacket. Then he undid two buttons on his shirt. His elbows rested on his thighs and his hands dangled between them, giving him an almost defeated look.
I placed a hand on his good shoulder and said, “I’m sure it’ll all work out.” I wanted to support him. To be his own personal cheerleader, despite my reservations.
He glanced over at me and smiled, though it was a bit tentative. “Thanks.” His gaze remained locked with mine for several breathless seconds, and then he leaned toward me and kissed me on the cheek. “The body might be different, but you’re still very sweet.”
I smiled. “You still give me butterflies.”
“I had no idea,” he said. “You didn’t say anything after I kissed you at prom. The song ended and you rushed over to your table, grabbed your stuff and hurried out.”
Shrugging a shoulder, I told him, “I had to call my mom for a ride, since my date was obviously taking someone else home. And I didn’t really know what to make of that kiss.”
It had been the perfect first kiss. Without tongue, just our lips tangling together. I’d felt its effect all the way to my toes. Interestingly, his simple peck on the cheek did the same thing to me.
“I had two choices that night,” he said. “Punch your date in the face or dance with you.”
“Made me much less of a loser to be seen dancing with you.”
“You were never a loser. You just went to prom with the wrong guy.”
He still leaned toward me and I could smell a hint of his cologne. I wanted to close my eyes and inhale deeply, but I couldn’t bring myself to break the intense eye contact.
I said, “The right guy didn’t ask me to prom. But I’m glad he asked me to dance with him.”
“It was four or five minutes of my life I’ve never forgotten.”
“Me either.”
Heat flashed in his eyes, but was chased away by some sort of inner strife.
“Cherish.” He shook his head and started to stand. I stopped him by clasping his biceps to keep him in place.
“Wait,” I said.
He settled on the cushion and stared quizzically at me.
I had no idea what to say, and my heart beat so fast, it was a wonder I didn’t keel over. But this seemed to be the best time to tell Carter how I’d felt about him ten years ago, and how I still felt about him today.
Pulling in a steadying breath, then letting it out slowly, I dove in headfirst. “One dance with you, and that kiss, made prom the best night of my life, when it should have been the worst because I’d been dumped. I’ve followed your career since. And when I saw that article about you in the Republic, I swapped stories with Taylor because I was desperate to see you. I wanted you to know how much I’d changed. And I’m not just talking about the way I look. I’m a woman, Carter.”
“Yes, you are,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “The second I saw you, even before I realized who you were, I thought you were gorgeous. And your smile took my breath away. Then I looked more closely at your mouth and your eyes, and I instantly knew that gorgeous woman was you. My pulse has been off the charts ever since.”
My heart nearly burst from my chest. I’d never been daring enough to make a first move, but I couldn’t stop myself from tugging on his arm until he was closer to me. I pressed my lips to his as my eyelids fluttered closed.
A low groan from Carter made my own pulse soar. He ran a hand through my hair, until he cupped the back of my head, holding me in place as our lips parted and his tongue delved deep, sweeping over mine. His grown-up kiss was hot and demanding. Passionate and lustful. I would have lost my footing had I been standing.
His arm slid around my waist, his hand splaying over the small of my back. My upper body melded to his, my breasts nestling under the ledge of his hard pectoral muscles. The desire to rip his shirt open and strip off my dress so I could feel his skin against mine rose within me. But I fought the urge and instead concentrated on how skillfully and sexily he kissed me. How wonderful it was to have his hunky body pressed to mine. How easily he stirred my emotions and ignited a roaring fire between my legs.
A prickly sensation along my clit was accompanied by a sharp throb in my pussy. Lord, how I wanted this man. More than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. Ever.
When he finally broke our kiss, we both panted heavily and I was lightheaded again.
Carter’s eyes bore into me, and they were flooded with emotion. “Cherish,” he began, but then frowned and shook his head once more.
My heart stuttered and nearly came to a grinding halt as dread ribboned through my insides. “What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just…” He shoved a hand through his hair. “That was more amazing than I’d imagined. And that’s a bad thing. A really bad thing.”
I had no idea how to process that comment. “You’ve lost me again.”
“I’m sorry.” He groaned, and this time it wasn’t in a lusty way, but in a tormented way. “The thing is,” he told me as he stood again, faced me and crossed his arms over his wide chest, “I have to wholly commit myself to this new job, the surgery and the rehabilitation. No distractions. And you… Christ, you are a huge distraction.”
The sting of rejection was bad enough. The fact his rejection came with a flash of desire in his eyes, because he clearly was interested in me in the romantic sense, made his words downright painful.
But what could I do? If he didn’t want to start something with me, I wouldn’t be able to persuade him otherwise. Not when his career was on the line.
With a nod, I said, “I get it.”Though my heart didn’t seem to. The tightening in my chest was almost unbearable. And my legs trembled again when I stood, as though my body was about to quake from my disappointment and consternation.
My stomach churned. I’d had high hopes for this evening. I’d thought about little else since Taylor had agreed to hand over the story. Now I regretted pushing her into it, because it would be so much better to not know about the chemistry that existed between Carter and me, when he had no intention of doing anything about it.
I recalled how agonizing it had been those last few weeks of my senior year, following prom, when Carter had smiled or winked at me in the hallways, but had never broached the subject of our last-dance kiss. He hadn’t asked me out afterward, or given any indication he’d wanted to date me over the summer, before he went off to Notre Dame.
Suffering through that heart-wrenching reality had been a breeze compared to how I felt now. We were adults and I was no longer Tink. And here was Carter, single and drop-dead gorgeous. Yet we may as well be on different continents for all the figurative distance he’d just put between us.
I scooped up my belongings and headed to the door, rushing off the way I had after his kiss at prom, humiliation gripping me.
He stopped me this time as he simply said, “Cherish.”
Turning back to him, I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, fighting the urge to slink off and cry, though the threat of tears stung my eyes.
“Don’t worry about it, Carter.” I was devastated he’d dismissed the attraction between us, but I wouldn’t let on. “I’ve always wished the best for you. That hasn’t changed. I hope you have a great season and the surgery is successful.”
“What about our interview?”
Though it nearly devastated me, I said, “I think your idea is a good one. Let’s keep it professional. We can talk in the locker room. Just like you’ll do with every other reporter looking for a story.”
His jaw clenched. He seemed to swallow down a hard lump of emotion as a tortured look crossed his face. I couldn’t stand to see it, so I turned away.
As I reached for the door handle, he said, “Wait.”
I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Why?”
He shook his head, then lifted his hands in the air in apparent exasperation. “Jesus, Cherish. I don’t want you to leave.”
I sighed in sheer agony. I felt I was so close to having something I’d wanted for over ten years, but I still couldn’t wrap my fingers around it. Hold on to it. Savor it. I was the one being tortured.
“I know this is an asshole thing for me to say, Carter, but I don’t want to just be old acquaintances. I could be friends with you in high school because I never had any hopes we could be more than that. But tonight… I can see there’s a possibility. And knowing it exists, while also knowing it’ll never happen…” My eyes squeezed shut for a moment as I pulled in a sharp breath and then let it out. “I can’t pretend I don’t want you. I’m sorry.”
“I can’t pretend either,” he said in a gruff voice. The tormented look remained in his eyes, though it was tinged with heat as he confessed, “I want you, Cherish.”
Chapter Two
Oh how my gut twisted as those words crawled under my skin.
I should have been thrilled to hear them, but instead found them horrifically painful. Carter could tell me a million times over he wanted me—but I could see in his eyes he wasn’t inclined to do anything about it.
I’d never experienced sexual frustration before. The truth was, prior to this evening, I could take or leave sex. I didn’t mind my lengthy dry spells, because I’d never really sparked with a man so vehemently, I couldn’t imagine not sleeping with him. Until now.
Kissing Carter had been a monumental mistake. One I couldn’t take back. I’d always know how much passion and desire existed between us, but I’d never have more than lingering memories to haunt me for another ten years. Likely longer than that.
“Cherish,” he said, “I’m trying to be fair. You’ve completely derailed me tonight. I wasn’t expecting to see you and when I did, I couldn’t control how much my body re
sponded to you. That kiss shouldn’t have happened, but then again… I wanted it to. I wanted to kiss you when you were in my arms on the patio. Even though I know it’s not right.”
I slumped against the door, my shoulder propped against the wood. “You’re killing me here, Carter.”
His grin was a tight one. “Yeah, I know how it feels. That one kiss had me wanting to carry you into the bedroom and make love to you. But I can’t afford to do that.”
Just hearing he wanted to make love to me made my knees weak. I shoved away from the door and sank into a chair at the kitchen table. “This is insane.” I groaned at the irony of the situation. “You’re saying all the right things, yet they’re all wrong.”
He sighed. “I’m not trying to screw with you. My career is hanging in the balance here, sweetheart.”
His term of endearment only made my heart wrench more. “Stop being so intimate with me, Carter. I can’t take it. The way you look at me and touch me. It’s all too much, because it’s everything I’ve always wanted from you and nothing I can have.”
Tears prickled the backs of my eyes. I tried to stave them off, yet the fat drops crested the rims and slid slowly down my burning cheeks.
“Ah, Jesus. Cherish.” His voice was as full of torment as his expression had been all this time. He took three long strides toward the table and knelt in front of me. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
He brushed away the tears as I bucked up and, once more, hitched my chin a few notches. Always sucking it up to keep my dignity intact. “I’m fine.” I got to my feet, moving around him. I walked toward the door again, but a crazy thought occurred to me. Out of the blue, the wicked idea formed in my head and I whirled around, miraculously not toppling over in my high heels.
My breath suddenly came in ragged pulls, but I managed to say, “I have a suggestion to make.”
With a perplexed look on his face, Carter stood and crossed his arms over his chest. For a few moments, he appeared to debate whether it was wise to continue down this path. But he didn’t shut the proverbial door on me.
