Their words travel across the room and slam against my lungs, making me lose my breath. I knew he was hurt—knew it ended his career, but I didn’t know it was like that. I think back, trying to remember Lee or her old man leaving town, but I come up empty. In fact, other than Lee mentioning what happened in passing, it wasn’t ever talked about again. Anytime folks in town brought it up, she’d shut it down, annoyed. My heart quickens, sickness climbing up my throat when I think of what it must have been like for him. I wonder if anyone was by his side, or if it’s yet another thing he’s had to go through all alone.
My head throbs, the sudden change of perspective making me dizzy.
FCU Stingrays win the game, and I should be thrilled, but I’m distracted. Instead of staying in the living room and celebrating with Sabrina—not that she gives a damn—I rush to my room and pull up Google.
Elliot Carson career-ending injury
My eyes widen as I scroll through hundreds of articles and images. I click on videos and watch it replay a thousand different ways. How have I never seen this? Seems like the entire college and NBA fandom mourned the loss, but I can’t remember a single tear shed from his family.
For the first time, some of my anger shifts onto Lee. Didn’t she give a damn?
Eli calls a few hours later while I’m lying in bed, pretending like I wasn’t waiting to hear his voice. To him, the injury happened years ago, but for me, it’s fresh. And so is this feeling of unease whenever I think about all the ways Lee didn’t bring him up over the years. I bite back the tears, inhaling deep before I pick up.
“Hiya.”
“Baby girl. Did you watch the game?”
I smile. “Why, did y’all win?”
“Like there was any doubt,” he scoffs.
I laugh. “You sure do live up to your nickname, big head. Not surprisin’ I suppose, with the way those announcers wouldn’t shut up about you.”
He sighs. “I wish they’d focus on the team, not me.”
“Well, like it or not, you’re part of the team too. They’re impressed. Be proud of yourself, Eli.”
“Yeah, I guess…”
The silence stretches, and even through the phone, thousands of miles away, it wraps itself around me and reaches inside my chest, drawing the words out. “I looked up the videos of your injury.”
He sucks in a breath. “Why?”
I shrug even though he can’t see, my heart battering against the wall of sadness that’s infused itself around my edges. “The announcers talked about it and I…” I tug on the ends of a curl. “I got curious. Lee never talked about it much, and I realized I never even thought about what it must have been like for you.”
He clears his throat. “It sucked.”
“Yeah.” I chew on my lip. “I’m sorry no one was with you. If I… I wish I coulda been there,” I whisper. “I wish I woulda known to make sure Lee was, too.”
“Me too, baby girl.” His voice is pinched and low. “But that was a long time ago, and you’re here now.”
I wait for him to elaborate, but he never does. Instead, he sighs. “I miss you.”
My stomach clenches at how his words strain against the things he obviously isn’t saying. But I won’t push him to talk about something if he doesn’t want to. I just needed him to know that I see him, and that I’m sorry I didn’t for so long.
“I miss you, too.” I twirl the ends of my hair. “When do you get back?”
“If I tell you, will you be waiting in my bed?”
“I think I’d need a key for that.” I choke on the words as they come out. What the hell? I don’t want a key to his place. I have no idea why I just said that.
He chuckles. “I’ll give you the code, and get you one made when I get back in town.”
I cringe. “Alright then. Great.”
It isn’t great. In fact, it makes my stomach squeeze so tight I think I may pass out. Things are perfect the way they are, there’s zero reason to change it.
Anxiety bangs against the walls of my heart, trying to break free.
As usual, I ignore it.
24
Eli
We’re headed to Atlanta for the final four games in the championship. March Madness definitely lives up to its name, and after being on the road for the past few weeks, I can’t wait to get home and relax. To be with Becca again. She traveled with us for some of the games, but one of her professors threatened to fail her if she didn’t give a presentation on Monday. Since we aren’t getting back until Tuesday, she ended up having to stay behind.
I’m sending her a text and getting comfortable in the back of the plane when a body plops in the seat next to me.
“Hi, friend.”
I glance up, pocketing my phone. My brows shoot to my hairline when I see who it is. “Sarah. What are you doing here?”
She smiles, tucking a strand of her strawberry-blonde hair behind her ears. “I was planning to give you some warning, but Connor thought I should surprise you. I was just hired on as a physical therapist for FCU, and as luck would have it, assigned to the basketball team for the last of the games.”
“Wow, what are the odds? Congratulations.” I mean what I say. From what she told me when we met, she’s been trying to get her foot in the door for a while.
A light dusting of pink coats her cheekbones. “You aren’t mad I didn’t tell you?”
“Why would I be mad? It’s not like we talk.”
Her grin drops. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
I lean my head back, closing my eyes, trying to force away the nagging feeling that’s prodding my gut. I’m a little uncomfortable with her here, sitting in the spot where I want Becca to be.
“Why is that again?” Sarah asks.
I swivel my head toward her and crack open an eye. “Why is what?”
“Why don’t we talk? I thought…” She bites her lip, glancing at her hands resting in her lap. “I thought we hit it off. You took my number, and I really liked you, then out of nowhere you just disappeared.”
I grit my teeth, suddenly feeling like an asshole. It’s not her fault Becca shaded everyone else from my view. But I don’t know what to say. I want to tell her the truth—that I’m taken. In love with the craziest, most amazing woman in the world. But I can’t. Not yet.
I rub my jaw and blow out a breath. “We did hit it off. I’m just… not in that place right now. I don’t want to lead you on, and have you expect something I’m not capable of giving.”
She nods, biting on her lower lip. “I get it. But you don’t have to ghost me. We can be friends, at least, right?”
I grin. “Sure, friends sounds good.”
We make small talk for the rest of the flight, but I don’t see her often after that. As the team’s physical therapist, she doesn’t really have direct contact with the coaching staff. She’s on the outskirts, dealing with the players as needed.
The days go quick, and we make it through semi-finals without too much fanfare. But every spare second is tinged with the ache to have Becca here celebrating the wins. Talking to her on the phone is better than nothing, but it doesn’t satisfy the need.
We won.
I’m standing in the middle of the arena, screaming fans drowning out the pounding of my heart. Players crowd around us, the Gatorade spilling down Coach Andrews’s back. This feels so damn good. Almost like there’s nothing in the world that can beat it. Except my joy is muted because the one person I really want to celebrate with isn’t here.
I look at the reporters surrounding us and the cameramen holding equipment above our heads. I tap my heart, then kiss my fingers, pointing toward one of the cameras. I’m not sure if Becca will see, but if she does, I’m hopeful she’ll know it’s for her.
I’m still staring into the lens when someone tugs on my arm. I pivot, expecting a player to bring me in for a hug, but before I can stop her, Sarah jumps into my arms, wrapping herself around me. I hug her back, laughing at her excitement.
&nbs
p; “We did it! Can I say ‘we’ when I’m new to the team?” She beams.
Her happiness is contagious and I feel the smile spreading on my face.
We did it.
I make it back to my room and shower, changing into something more comfortable before finally pulling out my phone. I haven’t looked at it since before the game, and I’m antsy to talk to my girl. There’s four unread messages, all from Becca.
#1 Player: Damn, big head. You’re looking mighty fly out there on that court. Good luck, not that y’all will need it.
#1 Player: What is that ref THINKING?! That was clearly a foul.
My lips quirk up.
#1 Player: Just so you know, I only fuck winners. Here’s hoping you make the cut.
#1 Player: CHAMPIONS BABY! I’m so proud of y’all. I wish I was there.
My heart swells with her last words because having her proud of me feels damn good. I bring up her name and press call.
“Hiya, Champ.” Her voice is more subdued than I expect.
“Hey, baby girl. Did you watch the game?”
“Why, did y’all win?”
I smirk. “You gonna play that with me every time you’re not here?”
“Maybe.” There’s a pause. “Doesn’t seem like you need me at your games anyway.”
My brow furrows. “You can’t feel me pining all the way from here? I’m practically broken on the floor without you. Winning doesn’t mean half as much without you here to stroke my ego.”
She snorts. “The day you’re broken on the floor is the day pigs fly. Ain’t nothin’ that can bring the great Elliot Carson down.”
“I’ll gladly go down on you… I mean for you.”
She giggles and something loosens in my chest, my smile growing.
“At least you had that sweet little strawberry-blondie to help you celebrate.”
My forehead scrunches. “Who, Sarah?”
She scoffs. “Like I’m supposed to know her name?”
I chuckle. “She was just hired on as a physical therapist for the school, and we’re friends. That’s all. She was excited we won.”
I hear Becca’s heavy exhale. “It’s fine, big head. I don’t care who you spend your time with.”
My stomach churns, something in her voice making my gut twist. I want her to care. “You should.”
“You’re a big boy. Not my problem. When do you get back in town?”
A tingle of warning pricks at my thoughts with the way she changes the topic. “Becca, it is your problem.”
“Oh? So you’re sayin’ there’s a problem for me to worry about?”
My head rolls back with my eyes. This woman. “What? No. I’m saying it’s okay for you to give a fuck. I sure as hell care when it’s you and Jeremy.”
“I’m not the jealous type, Eli.”
I tug on the ends of my hair, frustration boiling through my veins with the way she won’t admit she cares. That she is jealous. “Yeah. Okay.”
“You gonna tell me when you’re comin’ home?”
“That depends. You gonna admit you’re jealous?”
“Nothin’ to admit.”
“No witty comeback, Rebecca?” My voice lowers. “Is it because you’re imagining what it’s gonna feel like when I force the truth out of those pretty, lying lips?”
She huffs. “Easy to act high and mighty when you’re not here. And to think I was gonna offer you phone sex.”
I sit up straighter against my headboard, my cock thickening. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
“Where are you right now? On your bed?”
“Yes.”
“What are you wearin’?” she purrs.
I look down at my clothes. “Basketball shorts and a tee.”
“Hmm… Do you want me to make you come, Eli? Do you deserve it?”
Christ, I wish she was here. My palm tingles with the need to put my hands on her and remind her who deserves what, but I’ll give her this little bit of control. I’ll enjoy taking it back once I get home.
“I deserve anything you wanna do to me, baby girl.”
“Good. Take your right hand and touch yourself, over your shorts.” Her voice is sultry. Blood rushes to my groin, arousal spiraling through me.
My hand reaches down, palm gliding over my growing erection.
“I want you to imagine it’s me workin’ you through the fabric… teasin’ you until you beg me to give you what you need.”
I picture her next to me, her fingers rubbing against me as she tortures me with her words. My abs tighten.
“Are you stiff for me, baby?”
“Always,” I growl.
“Good. That’s how I like you. Take it out for me and work that thick cock… slowly.”
I do what she says, my hips lifting as I rip off my clothes and toss them to the side. My dick springs into the air, precum bubbling at the tip. I use it to lubricate my hand, sliding it down until I’m gripping the base of my shaft.
“Are you touching my pussy, baby girl?” I rasp, stroking myself.
“What are you gonna do about it if I am? You aren’t here to stop me. I’ll use my pussy any way I want.”
“Fuck.”
“Does that turn you on? Thinkin’ about me rubbin’ my clit to the sound of your pleasure?”
My muscles tense, my cock leaking steadily, making my hand skim easily along the length.
“Close your eyes,” she whispers. “Imagine it’s my mouth slidin’ up and down, beggin’ you to come down my throat.”
I groan, throwing my head back as I follow her instruction. Damn, this is hot.
“I need you to tell me when you get close.”
“I’m there, baby girl.” My cock pulses as I say the words, a shot of desire spreading through my body.
“Where do you wanna give it to me, Eli? What was it you once said? ‘On my knees so you can paint my porcelain skin?’”
My hips jerk into my fist at the vision. I do want to paint her with my cum. I love doing that. Marking her. Claiming her.
“On second thought,” she continues. “I don’t think so. I want you deep inside me, so I can feel every spasm as you fill me up.”
A tingling burn starts at the base of my spine, racing up my back and around my hips, shooting euphoria through my limbs. I jerk in my hand, groaning as my cock throbs, spraying my release all over my knuckles and stomach. My head slams against my pillows as I stroke through my orgasm, squeezing out every drop.
“Good boy,” she coos. “Goodnight, Eli. I’ll see you when you get home.”
Click.
I lay on my bed, out of breath. I’m confused by why she hung up so quick, but too hazy and blown away by everything she is to overthink it.
One more month and I can give her the world.
25
Becca
I lied.
Add it to my list of sins.
But how can I admit the sight of that girl in Eli’s arms caused my heart to stutter out a painful rhythm?
There’s still wounds on my soul—caused by a church who wields a blade, and a papa who slices deep. I don’t care much for the throbbing that’s shown up, reminding me the scars are there.
My bedroom door creaks open, Sabrina’s pink-tipped head peeking around the corner.
“Hey, girl. You got a second?”
“Of course.” I spin in my desk chair. “What’s up?”
She plops on my bed, wringing her hands together. “I’ve been offered a job.”
My face cracks into a smile. “That’s amazin’! I didn’t even know you started applyin’ to places.”
“Yeah.” She cringes and looks down. “It is amazing. They’ve offered me the Junior Assistant Specialist in Ecological Research at the Marine Science Institute.”
I nod my head, my chest swelling with pride. “Look at you, miss thang.”
My grin fades when I see she isn’t jumping for joy like I expected. “What’s up? You should be thrilled and we should be celebratin’.�
��
“I just…” she sighs, rubbing a hand over her face. “The job is in California.”
My chest tightens, my breath whooshing out at the squeeze. “Oh.”
“I know we had plans of getting a place together after graduation, but honestly, Becca, it’s my dream job. I’d be a fool to turn it down.”
“No, no.” I shake my head, wringing the ends of my hair in my fist. “I get it. Of course you have to take it. It’s an amazin’ opportunity.”
I force a small smile, but inside I’m reeling. I can’t afford rent on my own. I’m barely scraping by as it is, and without the campus job I have no clue what I’m planning to do for money. I don’t even know what I want to do with my life.
I’m not brought out of my worry until long after Sabrina leaves and Eli texts, asking where I am. I was planning on surprising him when he got back home, but obviously that’s shot to shit now since I’ve been sitting in my room for who knows how long, lost in my thoughts. But I’m excited he’s back, so I rush to my car and head over, pushing down the dread marinating in my gut.
Walking to his front doorstep feels like coming home, and entering his code on the keypad has my heart banging against my ribs, anxiety pumping into my bloodstream.
Maybe I shouldn’t be gettin’ this comfortable.
I barely make it through the front door when I’m grabbed from behind, and spun into the hallway wall.
Eli’s lips are on me before I can speak, and just like that, my worries disappear. All that matters is how good it feels in his arms. How right it feels.
“Damn, I missed you.” He growls against my lips.
His tongue twists around mine, fingers trailing down my sides, slipping under the waistband of my panties as he slides two fingers deep inside me.
I gasp at the intrusion, my pussy clenching around his hand.
His fingers curl forward, massaging my inner walls until it feels so good it hurts. He presses on my throbbing clit, rolling it under the pad of his thumb. I try to push forward into his palm, but his grip tightens, keeping me in place.
Beneath the Stands: An Enemies to Lovers, Best Friend's Brother Romance (Sugarlake Series, Book Two) Page 11
