He slept every night holding me so tightly it took me a week to get comfortable with the steel strength of his arms banded around me. After which it was impossible to sleep without them. I still have trouble now.
Time marched on. Winter turned into spring. I started traveling for tournaments again. Noah went back to class, began spending time with his friends. But there was no denying that he felt most comfortable around me. The heartache had changed him irrevocably. The mischief was gone, the thrill-seeker nowhere to be found. He wasn’t the leader of the pack anymore, preferring to hang in the background. It took some getting used to.
At his house we were like a platonic married couple. He pressed his mouth to the back of my neck before going to sleep every night. But with the exception of that one kiss, he barely touched me. That was as intimate as it got. He even made an effort to keep his hips away from my ass when he spooned me at night. There was only affection between, friendship…until there was more
Prom rolled around.
“Has anybody asked you?”
We were both studying, seated on opposite ends of the couch, my socked feet on his lap. I looked up from my textbook and found his gaze on me burning brightly. It was kind of embarrassing how easily he could turn me on with a single look.
When I didn’t answer, his eyes narrowed on me. “Who? Who asked you?”
“Why does it matter? I’m not going anyway.”
One of the guys on the tennis team needed a date and asked me to go as a friend. I said I would think about it and he told me not to think about it too long because he was going to ask his cousin if I said no.
“You’re not going?” He looked confused, a little hopeful but mostly confused. He and Crystal had been voted prom king and queen. He didn’t understand what it was like not to have a single friend to party with. He’d never been anything other than popular. I shrugged.
“I’m gonna take you out,” he stated as a matter of fact. “I want you to dress up, and we’ll go out. Anywhere you want to go.”
I didn’t want his pity. It annoyed me. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” He rubbed my feet. My toes flexed involuntarily when he ran his thumb along my arch. It took me a minute to realize he was seducing me. Having been with Crystal for so long, he had no shortage of experience where as I had practically none. Zach wouldn’t have known the definition of seduction if the dictionary hit him in the face. One side of his lips kicked up in a wicked grin. It was the first time he looked like himself since the accident. “Are you saying no?”
I couldn’t help but smile. He could make a dying woman smile if he put his mind to it.
I bought a dress. He picked me up at my house, showed up with a dozen white roses and everything––went all out. I thought white was a weird choice but I kept it to myself.
What was he trying to say with the white? Was this only a gesture of friendship? The white messed with my head. Then I took a good long look at him, so handsome in his navy suit, and I forgot all about the white flowers. And something in his eyes was different. The way he looked at me had changed. I didn’t know it at the time but it was ownership.
He took me to a fancy restaurant in Oklahoma City. He held my hand as we walked in, playing gently with my fingers. All throughout dinner I couldn’t stop thinking about how good that felt and how good those fingers would feel elsewhere. We ate and joked and laughed like we always did. The loss of his parents wasn’t on his face for once.
He placed my hand on his thigh as he drove home and my heart nearly exploded––along with my female parts. He was whipping me up into a frenzy without even trying.
“Maren…” he said after he pulled into his parents’ driveway and parked, his expression serious as he looked out the windshield of his father’s BMW. “I want to kiss you so bad it hurts.” He turned to me then. Those whiskey-colored eyes fell on my lips and he did it, brushed his against mine gently, softly until mine parted.
And that first kiss…it was like coming home. There was nothing strange or unfamiliar about it.
Things escalated quickly. In seconds I was crawling onto his lap and my hands were fisted in his hair. His hands were on my breast and ass. He pulled away and scanned my face. “Are you okay? Is this okay?” he murmured into the dark space of the car as if he had something to apologize for.
Okay? Are you on crack? I remember thinking. I’d waited all my life for him to do all those things and more to me. He couldn’t have been that clueless.
Apparently he was.
I didn’t give him the chance to second-guess what we were doing. Nodding and smiling, I said, “Let’s go inside.”
We stumbled through the front door with his hands cupped around my face, kissing. Senseless, endless kisses. He pushed me down on the couch and stopped to rip off his suit jacket.
“Maren…” My name always sounded like a plea out of his mouth. He didn’t need to beg; I would’ve given him anything.
“Don’t stop.”
He started slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “Have you ever done this?”
He damn well knew I hadn’t. We always danced around the subject when we talked. I hadn’t come out and said it but he knew.
I shook my head and his nostrils flared, his burning gaze raked down my body. He took off his shirt, ripped his undershirt over his head and threw it to the floor. He couldn’t be rid of it fast enough.
The sight of his bare chest lightly sprinkled with hair, all those tight muscles set my skin on fire. I was so turned on, I didn’t recognize the feeling. I’d never felt anything like it before.
Looming over me, he curled his fingers around the white stretchy material of the cap sleeves of my dress and slowly pulled down, exposing the new push-up bra I’d bought at the mall from Victoria’s Secret. He stopped and stared, openly devouring me with his eyes.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered. His eyes lifted, meeting mine squarely and what I found there was raw desire. “You know that, right?”
No, I definitely did not know that. It didn’t matter. As long as I was perfect to him I was happy.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” This was news to me. Other than the time he admitted he wanted to kiss me, I didn’t recall him looking at me with any heat.
He pulled my dress down my waist and legs, leaving me in my bra and panties, which made me extremely self-conscious. “Not here,” he murmured. He hopped off the couch and threw me over his shoulder. I squealed and laughed and he stroked my ass cheek while he walked to the bedroom.
Once we were there he placed me on my feet. I was still giggling when he smiled down at me and pulled me flush against his hard body. I was so happy I could’ve floated off the planet.
As much as I wanted him, I’d never been so nervous. I was terrified of what it would do to our friendship, scared that he would regret it later––or God forbid, go back to Crystal. And as the moment grew into something meaningful, both our smiles melted with the realization that this was going to change everything.
“Mare…I…” In the pause, all the air in my lungs left me. The look on his face said more than words ever could. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” I couldn’t say it fast enough, my heart beating just as rapidly as the words flew out. I’d waited seven and a half long years to say it.
He kissed me again, pushing my bra straps off my shoulders. He skillfully unclasped it and it fell to the floor. Immediately, I crowded closer, hiding against him. Behind his pants, his erection pressed against me.
“You promise you won’t think this was a mistake later,” I murmured in the sliver of space between our lips.
“I promise––and if it is, it’ll be the best mistake I ever make.” He smiled and pushed me down on the bed, my breast bouncing. Then without taking his hungry eyes off of me, he pushed down his slacks and boxer briefs and kicked them off.
I honestly thought all dicks looked the same. I don’t know where I’d gotten that crazy idea, but
my eighteen-year-old self actually believed, or rather assumed, they must all look the same. I’d stolen glances at Zach’s, when he would push my hand into his underwear and force me to give him a hand job. I’d felt the shape of him from under his pants but boy did I get a rude awakening when I saw Noah.
Nestled among dark hair, his shaft stood straight up, bobbing with every move. He gripped himself hard and stroked. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. I don’t know why, probably because I was so crazy in love.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he said with a one-sided smile. He disappeared into his bathroom and returned with condoms, placed some on the nightstand and crawled onto the bed.
“I want this to be perfect for you so tell me if you don’t like something…okay?”
I nodded and kissed him with all the longing in my heart and body. Then he went to work, touching my breasts, touching me between my legs, petting down my belly––driving me insane with need for him.
“Jesus, you’re wet already.”
It wasn’t a marathon of sex. Later we’d have plenty of those, but that night was full of tenderness and sweet urgency.
Maybe it was because the foreplay had gone on for years, or maybe it was because we knew each other inside and out. Whatever the reason, it was magic, coming together so smoothly it surprised the both of us.
On his knees, he looked even bigger. I watched him roll on the condom, thunderstruck by the sight of him. His body came down and covered mine, making space between my legs. By then I was so turned on, so sensitive, that he rolled his hips a few times and the friction of his shaft against my clit made me come almost instantly.
Pleasure shot through me. I screamed his name. And right before I crashed back into reality, he entered me in one powerful thrust and held still.
It hurt something fierce. I bit my bottom lip and he soothed it with his tongue and when the burn began to fade he began to move in a steady rhythm, base grinding against me every time he pushed further in. While he pressed kisses to my mouth, my neck, near my ear, his thrusts became more frantic. And with them, I could feel my body climb again.
“Mare, I’m coming,” he whispered and then I did as well, breaking apart while he groaned and shoved hard one last time, his body pulsing inside of me.
Sometime later, he lifted his head from the mattress and placed the gentlest of kisses on my closed lips. “How do you feel?” he murmured.
I chuckled and ran my fingers through his damp hair, kissed the side of his neck. “Like I just popped my cherry,” I told him. And even though I hated losing anything…losing this to him was the best loss of all.
Chapter Twenty-One
Maren
Morning had always been my favorite part of the day. The slate wiped clean, the possibilities endless, the promise of what could be all start in the morning. Not this morning though. This morning sucks rotten eggs.
As soon as I hear the truck start up, I hide the consequences of my late night musings behind my shades and step out the front door with the urn holding my grandfather’s ashes cradled safely against my body.
Noah bounds up the steps, wearing a sun shirt and technical running tights under his basketball shorts. He’s in full-on camping mode.
“Good morning.”
“Speak for yourself,” I grumble.
I didn’t sleep a wink last night, too busy playing the what if game. What if he’s changed? What if I can trust him? What if I forgive him? Does forgiving him mean I need to surrender my self-respect? Does it mean relinquishing my pride? The what if game only left me more confused than ever.
I’m not a thrill-seeker like Noah or a natural born risk-taker like Rowdy and Annabelle. I’m not built for it. My heart is fragile…it needs guarding.
“What happened to mornings being your favorite part of the day?”
“You remember?”
“I remember everything.”
I throw a fleeting glance in his direction and find him studying me. “How’s Jana?”
Noah’s amusement fades. “They found meth in the truck. Hank won’t be getting out for a long time. Jana is moving back into her place.”
“Is she going to be okay there?”
“Yeah. Her sister’s visiting for a week so she won’t be alone.” Checking me out, he says, “Where’s the rest of your stuff?”
I sniff and hold up a backpack. “I didn’t consider camping when I packed to come here.”
“I’ve got everything we need anyway.”
“The tents?”
“Tent,” he corrects. At my blank expression, he takes my backpack out of my hand and turns back toward the truck. “We’ve shared one many times.”
“I think I had braces last time we shared one,” I remark, remembering the summer we had a sleepover in his backyard to watch the falling comets. We’d stayed up all night and only saw two––kind of a letdown. Not the “sharing a tent” with him part however.
He throws my backpack into the flatbed and braces his hands on the edge of the rails. A wolfish grin pries his lips apart to reveal his perfect teeth. “The last time we shared a tent you had on pink lace panties and you were most definitely not wearing braces.”
Nuts. I forgot about that trip. “Get in the truck.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, with my grandfather’s ashes safely ensconced in a box by my feet, we’ve fueled up on caffeine and are well on our way to the lake.
“How did you end up working with him?” I ask, my interest stirred. I never did get the story from my grandfather.
Noah continues to stare at the road ahead, his throat working as he swallows. “Remember how good to me he was when my parents died?”
How can I forget? I nod, recalling how my grandfather helped Noah with all the legal and physical implications of two people being laid to rest. Noah was in no state of mind to do anything and Rowdy stepped up and took care of it all.
Taking his eyes off the road, he levels me with a look so vulnerable and earnest it makes me want to soothe him, whisper in his ear and kiss him senseless. I still want him. After all these years. After everything that’s happened.
That indefinable thing drawing us together is still there, not diminished at all by time and distance. And I’m so tired of lying to myself about it.
“After you left, I had no prospects…no idea what to do––” He shrugs, his focus back on the road. “He offered me a job at the club and I took it.”
“Doing what?”
A knowing smile lifts one side of his mouth. He starts chuckling and the sound is so contagious I smile along with him.
“Manager of recycling and refuse. Also known as all the shit work he could find for me.” I chuckle. “When he offered me the job he said he had a managerial position for me. Only told me what it was after I started.”
“You didn’t want to do anything with football?”
His amusement falters. His smile slides down. He sighs loudly. “It was too painful at the time. And I was having fun at the club. Little by little Rowdy started giving me more responsibility until I was running the place by myself.”
“He never told me,” I remark absently. It makes me wonder why my grandfather kept it to himself all these years.
“I miss that old bastard so much.” His soft eyes flicker to me and away, his voice brimming with pain. It triggers my own, primed and ready to shoot to the surface with only the smallest encouragement.
“He took up so much space in the world that it feels empty without him, doesn’t it?”
“Yep.” He nods.
“Bebe told me that he wanted you there…that you two were close.”
“I loved him. I would’ve done anything for him.”
I stare at the straight angle of his nose, the strong line of his jaw, the razor-sharp cheekbones I know he got from his mother. The morning light gives his skin a warm glow. But it’s the freckles barely disguised by a suntan that are my downfall. The gooey crap that my innards turn into are a direct
result of those godforsaken freckles. Because those bad boys collapse time and I’m suddenly sitting next to the boy who was once my best friend.
“I’m glad you were there for him.”
Noah turns the power of his focus on me and it’s intense, sending a ripple of goose bumps over my skin. “I have changed, Maren. I want you to know that.” His voice is low and gentle, sliding under my skin and wrapping around my heart with the strength of an iron vise. “And I’m gonna do everything in my power to prove it to you.”
That’s when I know with absolute certainty. It’s an indisputable truth. Looking at him now, I know that while I may have moved on, I left the best part of myself behind.
* * *
Noah
Around noon we reach the lake. We jump out and gear up, stowing Ronald’s ashes in my backpack while Maren watches.
“I’m glad you’re here. Doing this with me.”
I look up abruptly to find her expression fragile, close to fearful even. It kills me that I can hear it in her voice. This is the bravest woman I know and I’ve turned her into this.
How do I make her believe I won’t hurt her ever again? That all I want to do is take all her worries away and be the person I once was to her––her best friend. The one person she could confide in.
“Hey, it’s me. You don’t have to be scared of telling me anything.” The last thing I need is for her to bolt now that we’re finally getting along. Now that she’s finally rid of that fucking asshole.
“I don’t?”
“No…and I wish I knew how to make you believe that.”
Her deep green eyes swim in doubt. Her face tilts toward the clouds above, her hands closing tightly around the straps of her backpack. “I hope it doesn’t rain.”
Tiebreaker Page 18
