Blindsided

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Blindsided Page 18

by Shey Stahl


  Reaching down, I pat the top of Haisley’s head. “I’ll be right up.” Shifting Nalani on my hip, she lays her head on my shoulder like she’s tired. I bet she is. Out of all the kids, this one goes to bed like clockwork at eight every night. Easiest kid ever when it comes to bedtime. Can’t say the same about her climbing up everything in sight, though.

  Ember helps me get them upstairs in bed, puts Nalani down for the night, and I sneak into Haisley’s room to finish reading with her. That’s when Adler comes in and starts shit. He’s always trying to scare Haisley into nightmares. I’m not sure why, maybe it’s a big brother thing, but this time he has help—his silent scheming twin. I’m telling you now, if anything ever happens to me, question Braylee. I can’t get a clear read on that kid other than she doesn’t like me. She and Marley seem to have that in common but hey, two out of three ain’t bad considering the circumstances.

  Adler sits cross-legged on the bed, his eyes on mine. “Why did they take you to the hospital like that?”

  “Just a precaution. It’s fine.”

  His eyes hold worry. “It didn’t look fine. You looked dead.”

  Haisley stares at him, and then me. “Did you die?”

  I might as well if I can’t have sex. “No, I didn’t die.” I pat the bed next to me. “Now come over here so we can finish this book.”

  “Did you know there was this famous singer who killed people and put their bodies in the green river?” Adler asks, mischief replacing the worry.

  It takes me a moment to comprehend what he’s saying. Not only is the pain medication I took for my headache starting to wear off and I can barely open my eyes, but I also have no idea what he’s talking about.

  Reaching up, I scratch the side of my head. “What?” Next to me, Haisley perks up, staring at her brother.

  Adler rolls his eyes, as if having to explain himself is a chore. “There was a killer in Seattle.”

  Oh, right. That guy. In case you’re not familiar with the haunting statics of the Green River killer, his name is Jeffrey Dahmer, and now it probably rings a bell, huh? “Um, he wasn’t a famous singer. He was a serial killer who murdered people and left their bodies down by the river.” I leave out the part about him sneaking back and having sex with the bodies because I’m twenty-six and I find that disgusting. I can’t imagine what a nine-year-old would think of it, let alone the five-year-old beside me.

  Adler frowns. “So, like he ate cereal before he killed them?”

  “What?”

  Another eye roll. “He’s a cereal killer. Did he eat cereal before he killed them?”

  I give him a “what the fuck” look. What the hell does cereal have to do with it? “What are you talking about?”

  “Why is he called a cereal killer if he doesn’t eat cereal?”

  “No, he’s a serial killer.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t think I do anymore either,” I admit, turning the page in the book to continue reading, but I notice Haisley’s asleep now, her head on my shoulder, thankfully she didn’t hear anything about the supposed cereal killer stuffing his face with Captain Crunch.

  Peeling myself from the bed, Adler runs down the hall to his room. Ember’s standing at the door, having watched the entire interaction. I point to Adler’s room. “What was that about?”

  She smiles, shaking her head, her eyes on her hands. “Cat and I took them to the park, and Marley looked up the river on her phone… then promptly told him and Braylee the history of the river.”

  “Nice of her. How much you want to bet he has nightmares tonight?”

  Her eyes lift to mine. “Probably.”

  And then we’re trapped in a stare. “What?” I ask, keeping my stare on hers.

  “Nothing. Let’s get you into bed.” She turns and walks down the hall to my room.

  “That’s what I’m talking about.” I follow her. “Are you coming to bed with me?”

  “No. I just want to make sure you get in bed okay.”

  Though it’s disappointing she keeps pushing me away and avoiding what’s really going on between us, I’m more worried about the fact that she’s sighing, and I can tell something’s on her mind. Is she worried about the notorious cereal killer too?

  “Are you here to let me kiss you again?” I whisper, watching her pace my bedroom floor. It’s not lost on me that she’s in here and if I really want to be convincing, I can potentially persuade her to sit on my bed, and you never know where it will lead from there.

  “No, I’m not. That was a mistake.”

  “It certainly didn’t feel like a mistake to me.” It’s then I notice what she’s wearing. How I didn’t know she was in her nightgown is beyond me, but I’m well aware she is now. Had she picked me up like that? I pray she isn’t wearing a bra so I can see those perfect and perky nipples salute me.

  Naturally, I look, but sadly she’s wearing a bra.

  “Why are you pacing the floor?” I finally ask, wondering what it is she’s doing in here if she’s not going to take me up on the offer that we fuck.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she wails, tears letting loose. At first, her reaction catches me off guard, and then it makes sense given everything she’s lost in her life, especially at such a young age. She’s been where they are. “Seeing you with them tonight, it’s just… they need you so much, Landon.”

  Standing, I make my way over to her, wanting to ease her pain. Selfishly, I want to hold her and be the one comforting her. “I know they do.” I stroke her head as she cries. “I’m fine though.”

  “I know, but I was worried.” She sniffles into my neck. I can feel her ragged heartbeat against my chest, her tears wetting my neck. “Seeing you on the ground like that... and them so scared as they carted you off....”

  Holding onto her tightly, I try to comfort her in any way I can. I move to sit down on the bed, and she straddles my lap. This position does nothing for my self-control and thoughts.

  My breathing hitches, as does hers, and I may even groan when she makes contact with a very eager part of me. One second she’s crying and the next we’re moving away from each other.

  “Sorry,” I mutter, pushing myself off the bed to stand, and now I’m the one pacing the room, and she’s sitting on the edge of my bed.

  Ember sighs, her glossy blue eyes finding mine in the dimly lit room. She stares at me for a long moment before chewing on her bottom lip. “I’m going to be a total girl right now.” She sighs in defeat. “Just hold me and don’t talk to me.”

  I laugh at her expression, and then she punches me in the shoulder. “If you want me to hold you, don’t physically hurt me.”

  “I said don’t talk. Hold me and don’t talk.” She pats the bed. “You’ll just piss me off by talking.”

  “I will with one condition.”

  She rolls her eyes, licking her lips fast, but it’s when her gaze shifts that I know she’s hiding her emotions from me. “What would that be?”

  I lie down next to her. I want so badly to pull her into me, crash my lips on hers, and fuck her. I want to rid myself of this obsession I have with her, but I know it won’t do me any good. It’s never going away. At least not that easily. My hand comes up and softly touches her cheek before leaning in. My eyes drop to her milky flesh peeking out above her nightgown. “You let me kiss you again.”

  You’re probably surprised to learn she fucking lets me. She never answers; instead, she leans in and presses her lips softly to mine. Our lips move as one, our tongues remembering a dance and our bodies, they come together like they were fucking meant to be.

  Shifting on the bed, Ember moves beside me and squeezes both her thighs together around one of mine. “We should stop. You’re not supposed to get your heartrate up.”

  I swallow hard. “No. Way.”

  “Landon,” she breathes against my lips and my dick twitches against her stomach, hardening and if I had to guess, I’m already sporting some precum in my boxers.
I move my thigh against her pussy, pushing up to put pressure on her clit.

  This, this I could fucking get used to. Goddamn. I groan when she clings to my body, her hands fisting my shirt, unsure if she wants to pull me closer or push me away. “Let me fuck you,” I breath, and it’s fucking ragged as hell. Sounds like I’m running drills at practice.

  “No.”

  “Why?” My lips break away from hers, assaulting her neck and collarbone.

  She cradles my head in her hands, her neck arching to give me better access. “I told you why.” She’s grinding against me so hard, that I finally roll her over and bury myself between her legs. Now we’re in the exact position we left off in Hawaii. “And the doctor also told you no sex.”

  “If you don’t let me fuck you, I’ll stop what I’m doing now, but something tells me you need this,” I whisper into her mouth, deepening the kiss.

  Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

  “Don’t stop.” The words fall from her lips, soft and trembling with desire.

  Yes!

  Her thighs tighten against my waist and she lets me grind into her clit, and I know she’s close. With little separating the two of us, I can feel every time the head of my cock passes over her swollen bundle of nerves and the way her body tenses.

  And just about the time I’m thinking of slipping her panties down her thighs, there’s a knock on my door. “I need water!”

  Fucking Christ. They always find the worst time to interrupt us.

  I know what kid it is, too. Haisley never stays in her bed all night long. “Get it yourself!” I yell back, unwilling to end the teenage dry hump session. I don’t stop either.

  Ember pushes against my chest. I stare at her, cheeks pink, breathing heavy. “We need to stop.” She straightens her posture.

  “Fuck that. We don’t need to stop.” Wanting to avoid the need to have to jerk off tonight, I try to reason with her. Try being the key word here. “She’ll go away eventually.”

  I’m apparently not that convincing because she pushes again. “Let me up. I’ll get her water.”

  I roll off her onto my back. Blowing out a heavy sigh, my hands over my face. It’s not that I’m embarrassed. It’s a tortured action, like I want to punch myself in the face. Fuck me.

  Unfortunately, doesn’t look like any fucking of the physical sense is happening tonight.

  Prevent Defense – A defensive formation where the team on defense is simply trying to prevent giving up a long, quick play for a touchdown and keep the clock running by leaving defenders deep and along the sidelines to keep the ball carrier in bounds. Offenses can gain yardage up the middle of the field, but that will come at the cost of time off the clock.

  “We have to stop doing this,” I tell him, breathing heavily after getting Haisley her water.

  I should have left, but the draw to him made me return to his room. It’d been at least five minutes and he was still in the same position I left him. Flat on his back with his hands covering his face. Only now, one leg was bent at the knee.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I straighten out my nightgown, regretting not putting on clothes before I went to get him, and now wearing it in his room. Unconsciously, I’d set myself up for failure. #nologicinme

  Landon sighs with a slow shake of his head, but he doesn’t remove his hands from his face. “Why can’t this work?”

  My heart flies up in my chest and lodges in my throat. “Because… Landon.” I twist toward him, drawing in a careful breath, trying to find the courage to tell him how I feel. “I put my life on hold for you, and I’m scared if I start something with you, I’ll never do the things I want to do.”

  And I’m not your type. I leave that part out because he seems to think otherwise. Haven’t you noticed though? I’m nothing like #icequeen Alessa.

  His hands finally drop from his face and he looks up at me. He bends at the waist, pushing forward to kiss my forehead and I feel his eyes on my neck. His fingers brush the ink on my shoulder, then trail down my spine to grip my hip. Pressing his mouth against my orchids tattoo on my collarbone, his mouth is warm, rough and exactly what I want.

  He leans back to look at me, his features holding an emotion I can’t decipher. His mouth opens as though he’s about to say something and then his brow furrows. “Do you know how many women I’ve slept with?”

  I don’t want to think about him with anyone else. I don’t want to think about his hand pressing between someone else’s legs or him kissing them. I stare at him, trying not to act like someone punched me in the stomach. “I’d rather not think about it.” It’s the truth. I want to think about him inside me with a passion neither one of us can comprehend. I want to be owned by him.

  Landon looks tortured, and I’ve never seen him look like this. I’ve seen the confident cocky guy, and the ruthless side. But this… not this side. “Well, I’m going to make you because you don’t seem to get it. I’ve slept with hundreds of women, and every time since I’ve met you, I see your face when I’m inside them. I can’t….” He stares deep into my eyes, like he’s trying to communicate with me telepathically.

  My heart literally feels like it drops to my feet. “What does that even mean?” I want to say more, tell him I want him, regardless of the consequences, but the words won’t form, or when they do, my lips won’t deliver them. What am I going to do, tell him the truth?

  No, that’s just ridiculous.

  When he sighs, I can’t look away. His eyes display what I thought I would never see from him. Somewhere over the course of our friendship these last five years, something has changed for him, too. I love seeing him this way, vulnerable with need for me.

  When he leans forward, his warm breath blows across my skin with the words, “It means… I want you.”

  My heart beats a million miles an hour, thudding loudly in my ears as my body saturates with hope. The blood rushes rapidly throughout my body, spreading like a summer wildfire scorching my skin. “You don’t know what you want.”

  “Bullshit. I do. And you feel something more for me. Don’t you?”

  “I’ve always felt something more for you,” I finally admit.

  He gives me a tentative but uneasy smile. “There’s a but coming, isn’t there?”

  Pushing myself away from the bed, I stand. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  And then I walk out. Not because I want to, but because I need to.

  You know those movies where the two leads are both lying in bed wide awake staring at the ceiling, and there’s some sappy song playing? That’s me at least, and I imagine Landon’s taking a cold shower, but you never know. Maybe he’s just as confused.

  I try to think back to when it changed for me with Landon, but I can’t pinpoint a day or even how long into our friendship it was. All I knew was it had a good amount to do with how he followed his dreams.

  I don’t think anyone has ever realized how much of their lives professional athletes give up to be at the top. Sure, they have money and can buy whatever they want, but that doesn’t come without a cost. And it can all be gone tomorrow. There’s absolutely no guarantee it will last or even if their bodies will allow them to continue. Today was a reminder of that. Sure, he’s fine now, but what if he wakes up and can’t remember us? Concussions are not something to be messed with.

  And then my thoughts return to him and his dream, his dedication to the sport that takes everything he has inside to succeed and rarely gives anything in return. But still, Landon plays football and does it well because he believes he can, and he’s so strong-willed nothing ever stands in his way. All his hard work has led him here, to his dream come true. But that dream, at times, comes with some hefty sacrifices.

  Even with all this, there is one thing that has never changed about Landon over the years, and that’s who he is on the inside. He knows exactly what he wants. Something I can’t say about myself.

  Landon is never what people think he should be or tell him to be, which is why hi
s first year in the NFL, he went through three PR reps, two managers, and a handful of assistants.

  I think back to what I said in his room.

  “You don’t know what you want.”

  And his reply was, “Bullshit. I do. And you feel something more for me. Don’t you?”

  Why am I questioning him when the Landon I know has never been anything but truthful to me and knows what he wants?

  Grabbing my phone off my nightstand, I scroll through Landon’s Instagram feed to the one picture I know is there of us. It’s the one in Hawaii with us on the beach. It’s not just the two of us, but I’m standing beside him in it with Quinn and Kumonde and his wife. We look tiny compared to them, but that’s not what finally catches my attention about the photograph. It’s the way Landon’s looking at me like I’m his favorite person in the world.

  That night, later in his hotel room after I drank a glass of wine, okay, half a bottle, that’s when we almost had sex. Then his life changed forever, but I should have known once Landon makes his mind up about something, there’s no changing it.

  I hadn’t realized until maybe now, that he’d set his sights on me.

  I’ll be honest with you. I’ve never thought I was good enough for Landon. I know, a confident woman like me, why would I think that? Well, he’s a fucking superstar, that’s why. It’s easy to feel inferior around him. I guess it hasn’t always been me thinking that if I started something with Landon, I’d lose myself in the process. It’s a little bit of that, and a little bit of me thinking how can I ever compare to him? How can you stand by someone in a relationship if you’re constantly, and unknowingly on his part, in their shadow?

  Sneak – A surprise running play.

  Isn’t it crazy how quickly time flies? Like you blink and it’s a year later?

  Don’t freak out. You didn’t miss a year of this shitshow. More like six hours. It’s morning now, and I’m feeling about the same as I did last night. #confusedAF

  If you’re not hashtag savvy, AF stands for: As Fuck. Yes, I had to google that the first time I saw it.

 

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