Attached to You

by Lindsay Paige

  When I get to Deanna’s house and knock on the door, she answers with a frown.

  “What the hell kind of date requires workout clothes? First, you don’t ask and now, I might sweat in November?”

  I laugh. “You won’t sweat.” She’ll get wet, though. I won’t tell her that just yet. “Let’s go.”

  “No hello kiss either? Boy, you really are trying to work me up.” She’s smiling, so I’m not too worried. To satisfy her, I kiss her as we walk to my truck. She rolls her eyes and mumbles under her breath about it being a subpar kiss. She’s in some kind of mood today, that’s for sure.

  “Where are we going?” she asks once we’re on the road.

  “You’ll see.” I’m not confident in this date. In fact, I’m not even sure it can be called a date. Nevertheless, this is something we’re going out to do, so it counts, right? It’s sort of major. “After this, I need your email address, so I can forward you all the information you need for the trip. Everything has been booked. Are you nervous?”

  “Yes and no. Let’s not talk about it. I’ll handle it as it happens. Your mom is cool, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, I’m sure I’ll be in good hands.”

  I leave it at that because she will be in good hands. My mom has met women I’ve seen before and I don’t hesitate at all about it. My mom is a good woman and she can meet anyone in my life that she wants, no problem. We arrive at our destination soon enough.

  “What the hell is this?” Deanna asks.

  “It’s a 5K obstacle race.”

  “A what? You can’t be serious? I’m out of shape!”

  “You’ve been running with Otis lately. You’ll be fine. Besides, we’ll make it interesting,” I promise as we get out of the truck and head toward the registration tables.

  “And I nearly die every time!” she reminds me.

  “It’ll be fun, Deanna.”

  The look she gives me is full of skepticism. I ignore it. We register and sign waivers, attach the numbers to our shirts, and wait near the starting line until it’s our time to start. They send people off in groups, so the obstacles aren’t congested. Deanna wraps her arms loosely around my waist and looks up at me. My hands automatically rest on her ass.

  “This is your idea of a fun date, huh?”

  “Not yours?”

  “I’ll let you know at the end. You get points for being creative. You said something about making it interesting?”

  “Whoever does the best and finishes first between us wins. What do you want your prize to be?”

  Her grin is pure evil and I know just by looking at her that her prize will involve making me uncomfortable in some way; she’ll make it worth my while I’m sure. “I’d like to keep my prize a secret for now. What would you like?”

  “If I win, I’ve decided to be nice for the both of us. You never got to have me in your office at work, so if I win, I’ll fuck you in your office.”

  She grins and pops a quick kiss on my mouth. “Oh, I kinda hope you win now! Not enough to let you win, of course, but I won’t be disappointed if I come out of this as the sore loser. Emphasis on sore.”

  I laugh and glance around, just to have a distraction from her. Some people look just long enough that it’s a stare. Becoming self-conscious, I move my hands up to her lower back. If these people are looking because they recognize me, which is the likeliest explanation, then I’m not sure that’s the proper hand placement for a crowd of people. There are some teenagers out here too.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What?” I glance down at Deanna.

  “You’re tense. What happened?”

  “I’m not tense.” I’m as relaxed as ever. “I think there are some hockey fans here.” There are a few who look like they want to come over, their phones ready in their hands. There are a few who glance away every time my gaze falls in their general area. I actually probably shouldn’t be doing this during the season, but I doubt I’ll get injured from this.

  “Do you normally get recognized?” Deanna asks as she scans the crowd.

  “Sometimes, but unless it’s a kid, they don’t come up to me. I guess I don’t look approachable.”

  She frowns at that, but our group number is finally called to the starting line. Thank goodness. I laugh as Deanna starts to stretch, which earns me a glare, especially since I don’t. After a few minutes, the horn sounds and the crowd takes off for the first obstacle: climb up onto an inflatable platform so you can take the monkey bars across. Deanna and I are side by side as we go across.

  “Fuck, I have no upper body strength,” she groans on the fifth bar.

  “If you don’t make it to the end, that’s a point for me,” I remind her as I pass her. She huffs. I make it to the end and turn around in time to see her fall on the fourth to last bar. “That’s okay, darlin’. Maybe you’ll do better on the next one.”

  “Don’t gloat. It makes you ugly,” she snaps as we jog to the next one. She curses as we climb onto another inflatable platform. This one is more like an open bouncy house that we have to jump across, but there’s a cliff at the end and Deanna beats me to it. “Ha!” is all she says, sticking her tongue out at me as we jog on.

  Some of the obstacles are seemingly easy. There’s one with giant red balls and you have to run or jump from ball to ball without falling off. I manage to make it a ball farther than Deanna does before falling off. We slow down a tad, too. It might be a race, but I’m not leaving her behind. After climbing over walls, doing a sort of slip-n-slide, going through a foam pit, and a few other obstacles, there’s only one left. We’re tied essentially.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Deanna asks as event staffers hand us life jackets. We have to make it across these log-like walkways, which are over water, while these giant balls swing around. If you lose your balance or get hit, it’s the water for you. “It’s a bit nippy out here today. I can’t wait to feel the water.” She rolls her eyes.

  “Then I suggest you don’t fall in.” I grin.

  Deanna decides to go first. She takes a deep breath, her eyes on the balls, and then starts running. Her focus switches to her feet. She never sees the ball coming. I can’t help but laugh. Seeing her fly through the air for those few seconds and making such a splash is hilarious. I can only hope that I don’t suffer the same fate.

  Once she’s out of the water on the other side, I’m given the okay to proceed. I carefully go across, hurrying when a ball comes and pausing as another comes in front of me. Then, I make a run for it.

  “Oh, son of a bitch. Seriously?” Deanna mutters when I reach her. “I’m totally blaming the fact that you can skate on this. That has to be the reason you have such good balance.”

  I shrug. “Let’s call it even. Whoever crosses the finish line first wins?” We hand our life jackets back. Deanna clutches the cloth of her shirt at her stomach and wrings it out. I’m suddenly distracted as hell. Her workout clothes were fitted on her body before. Now? Tighter than a glove.

  She looks up at me. “Sure? I love running in wet shoes. Ready?” Deanna takes off before I answer. My eyes follow, fixed on her legs and then her ass. The sight of it getting smaller is what actually springs me into action and into a comfortable run behind her.

  You know, I think we need to start running together. Just like this. Her in front, me two to three feet behind to watch her body as she runs. I could run all day, hell, for weeks, like this.

  “Yes!”

  Startled, I blink. Deanna turns around to face me and dances. Her breasts bounce, stealing my attention until I hear, “I won!” What? Damn her and her addictive body. “Wait.” I place my hand on her waist. “We need to go back and have a re-do.”

  “Why?” she demands.

  “Because I forgot to try.”

  She scoffs. “Too bad, so sad, sucker. Take your lame excuse and shove it. You lost to a girl, an unfit one at that, and now I want my prize.” She grabs my hand and drags me away from the crowd and
toward the parking lot.

  An uneasy feeling rises within me. “What’s your prize?”

  “You’re about to find out.”

  This can’t be good. When we arrive at my truck, I grab the towels from the backseat that I placed in here before I left the house and hand them to Deanna. She wraps one around her while putting the other where she’ll sit. It’s a bit chilly, so I turn the truck on to warm her up.

  “What’s your prize, darlin’?”

  “I want an orgasm before we leave.”

  “No.” The quick response comes out harsh and louder than I intended. There are cars upon cars around us. Anyone could walk by at any time!

  “Yes,” she replies evenly.

  “Deanna, if someone sees, or if we get caught, do you know how much trouble I’d be in?”

  “We won’t get caught. It’ll look as if we’re just sitting here. I don’t want to completely put you at risk, Brayden.” It irritates and bothers me that she sounds hurt with that last bit.

  “Any risk is too much in this case.” I don’t even know how she’d like to receive her prize.

  Deanna scoots over; the action causes me to stiffen, and not in a good way. One of her hands rests on my thigh while she grips my hand in her own, interlocking our fingers. “I won,” she reminds me.

  “And what you’re asking for is irresponsible.” Tempting, but not a good idea at all. “What if those people on either side of us come to their cars?”

  She grabs the towel she was sitting on and throws it over our laps. “Hand jobs ending in orgasms. That’s all I’m asking for here.”

  I snort. Oh, is that all? I glance around us, flicking my gaze to the mirrors.

  “We’d sit just like this. We wouldn’t look suspicious,” she says, as if she knows I’m considering it. And fuck, why the hell am I considering it? There was no room for negotiations or changing my mind when I told her no only a minute ago. My blood already thrums with excitement. Deanna takes our joined hands and places them between her legs as she says, “I promise it’ll be worth our while.”

  I was royally screwed the moment I met Deanna. I don’t know why I keep thinking I can say no, stop things between us, or fight anything going on. It’s been a losing battle since I bumped into her.

  There’s a sigh fighting its way out with my defeat as I nod my head, wordlessly agreeing to her crazy prize. Her grin is quick and bright. She grabs my face and kisses me hard. Both wanting to eagerly get started and get this over with, I manage to stick my hand underneath her annoyingly wet clothes. She’s slick and wet. Deanna enjoys these stunts entirely too much, but I’ll be damned if I can lie and say that a small part of me doesn’t like them, too.

  The kiss ends, her forehead dropping to my shoulder, and her hands fall to push down my waistbands. The moans she makes are soft, but seem to fill the entire cab of my truck. She wiggles a bit, readjusting how she’s sitting, and groans at the adjusted angle. It’s all I can do to focus on getting her off quickly while her hands are wrapped around me. She seems to think time is of the essence as well. Her strokes are near the point of aggressive.

  Stretching my legs out a bit, my right foot accidentally presses the gas just as a family walks in front of my truck.

  For a moment, I freeze. Where did they come from? Fuck. I forgot to pay attention.

  Reality pops into place like the snap a rubber band and my truck is suddenly full of giggles as I mouth a sorry at the startled family with an angry-looking father.

  “Oh god.” Deanna’s hands cradle her stomach. She keeps trying to speak, but can’t for her laughter.

  I’m not sure if I’m irritated with her or amused as well. My hand is still between her legs, so I get back to work with renewed vigor. The giggles stop immediately. She gets her orgasm shortly after. Once I tuck myself back into my shorts, I pull out of my parking space.

  The giggles return once Deanna is in her seat and buckled. “That had to be the best thing that’s ever happened. Did you see their faces when they heard the engine rev?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, come on, Brayden. You have to admit that it was hilarious.”

  I glare at her.

  She tries to tame her giggles, but it’s like once she has a handle on it, they start back up again.

  “For fuck’s sake, Deanna,” I snap.

  “I’m sorry,” she laughs. “But as soon as I think about it, I start laughing again.”

  Her laughter is infectious, damn it. I don’t laugh. I do have some self-control. However, a small smile tugs at my lips. Deanna catches it too. She grabs my hand and leans over to kiss my cheek. Seriousness taking over her features for a brief moment. “Thank you. For the smile,” she adds.

  And then, she’s back to giggling. I can only shake my head and smile a little wider.

  Considering yesterday was a fairly easy day, aside from being with Deanna and doing the 5K, I shouldn’t be tired today. I am, though. I don’t like starting a game off tired. You’re supposed to have energy. A pep in your step. Eyes should be wide open. But I’ll be damned if I’m not tired as fuck. I got at least ten hours of sleep. Not all in a row, however; I stayed at Deanna’s house last night.

  Collin comes up next to me as we’re skating around the ice for warmups. “You all right, Captain Hook?” he asks.

  His question surprises me. Also makes me wonder if I look tired.

  “I’m fine; why?”

  He shrugs. “Seem off today.”

  “We all have our days, Thing One.”

  He smiles at his nickname, nods, and leaves me be.

  Things seem normal as the game starts. Getting into the swing of things rids the tiredness from my bones. We play like we ought to. We even get a boost when the other team earns a penalty, setting us up on a power play. Unfortunately, we get caught in their zone. Time dwindles when I get the puck on my stick and take off, right down center ice. It doesn’t matter to me that our power play is over. There’s still an opportunity to capitalize on this.

  Until the player comes out of the sin bin and flies across the neutral zone. I never see him coming because my eyes are focused elsewhere. Thing One comes up on the other side of me and I want to make a pass. The puck leaves my stick and is on its way to him.

  The hit blindsides me, feeling like a semi ran into my back with enough force to snap my neck back while pushing me forward and slamming my body onto the ice. Do my hands even reach out to stop me? I’m not sure. I blink, the ice cold against my cheek, and idly watch the puck reach Collin.

  Get up, Brayden. You never stay down if you can get up.

  Is the arena quiet or suddenly thunderous with the roar of thousands? I want to wince at the sound of it and the whistle blowing. I push myself up onto my hands and knees, deciding to quickly make a go at standing, but the ice moves underneath me and I’m back on my hands and knees. Fuck.

  “How about you wait here for a second?”

  I glance up to see Collin and nod. Bruiser beats the hell out of some guy over in the corner. What for? What happened?

  Collin tries to help me stand and that’s when I realize the...fuck, what are they called? I shake my head and try to focus on what the trainer who walked from the bench says as I’m escorted off the ice to see a doctor.

  Not that it matters.

  Dread fills me quickly, overwhelming me before I can stop it.

  This is not good.

  ***

  Brayden: Thanksgiving is canceled.

  Me: What? Why?

  Me: Hello? Brayden? What happened?

  Me: Answer me!

  Me: I’m coming over.

  An uneasy feeling worries me as I drive to Brayden’s house. It morphs into dread when I pull into his driveway and find his truck door open. What in the hell happened? I walk to the truck with Otis trailing after me on his leash, spot his cell phone in the middle seat, and grab it. Why would he leave his cell phone in the truck? Gently closing the door, I head for the house.

  My worry
quadruples. His keys dangle from the deadbolt. That’s not very helpful if you want to keep intruders out. After I remove the keys, I push the door open. “Brayden?” I call out.

  No answer.

  Otis seems calm, which relaxes me just a little. That means no one who shouldn’t be here is in the house, right? Otis leaves me for the couch the moment I unhook his leash, so I hope so. He can’t bite someone in my defense if he’s napping on the couch. I jog upstairs to Brayden’s bedroom, calling out his name once more. There’s still no response. Where is he?

  I find him lying in bed, but something isn’t quite right. He has a pillow over his head as well as his comforter over that pillow. Carefully crawling onto the bed, I pull the comforter back and then remove the pillow. He’s sound asleep. Do I wake him? Is he... I tug the sheets down a little further. He’s still in his suit from the game. What in the world?

  I shake his shoulder. “Brayden.”

  He groans, but I soon see those green eyes. He frowns and blinks a few times. “What are you doing here?”

  “Because I’m extremely worried. First, you text me that Thanksgiving is canceled and you don’t respond to my texts. Then, I get here and your truck door is open, your phone is inside, your keys are still in the front door, and you’re sleeping in your suit.”

  He glances down at himself and a brief flicker of surprise appears on his face when he sees that I’m not lying.

  “What happened?” I ask as he throws the sheets completely aside to get out of bed.

  “I got hit during the first period,” he mutters. I’m confused. What does that have to do with Thanksgiving? Or anything else that happened? I watch him change his clothes. “I sat out for the rest of the game and by the time it was over, they diagnosed me with a concussion. I’m not going on the trip to Canada, so you and Mom aren’t going either. Can you look to see if she’s texted me back?”

  Once I’ve unlocked his phone, there are not only texts from his mom, but also about a dozen missed calls. His text to her was similar to mine, except he asked her to deal with his travel agent in canceling everything.