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At Arm's Length

Page 8

by Amber Nation


  Her eyes widened. “Whoa! Talk about a heavy burden to bear. If you carry around that much remorse and guilt, can’t you change yourself and your actions? Make all of those irrational decisions stay in the past where they belong?”

  I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that the damage was already done; there was no redeeming myself. My career suffered, I had friends who didn’t want to talk to me and, what was worse, a mother who wanted nothing to do with me. Yeah, that was one thing that I tried not to think about. What mother would be proud of a son who often had his face splashed around on newspapers across the country? I was thankful to still have my sister, but she never hid the fact that she didn’t approve of my hothead attitude. And I had no one to blame but myself. People who knew football would always associate me with The Beast, and there was no way of coming back from that.

  I may not be able to fully turn around my career, but if I sat back and didn’t make a movement to change things, I would forever live a life of solitude, and that is the very last thing that I wanted.

  Marlee’s sweet voice brought me out of my errant thoughts. “Where were you going before you found yourself here?”

  “Hawaii.” Funny how just a day ago I was bitching because I wouldn’t get my sunny vacation. And now Hawaii was all but a memory. Perhaps divine intervention knew what I needed even before I did. There wasn’t a place that I would rather be than right here on this couch with a mug of hot chocolate and this beautiful woman who needed an open ear. Sure, I could think of other things to pass the time rather than the intense discussion we’ve landed upon. But in a way, this was where I was meant to be.

  “Okay,” she threw up her hands, “this talk took a serious downward spiral straight to depressing. What is your favorite movie?”

  “That’s easy, Rudy.” Naturally, that would be my favorite; isn’t it everyone’s?

  She lifted her lip in distaste. “Isn’t that movie about football?”

  She certainly surprised the fuck out of me with that response. “What’s wrong with football?” Instantly my defenses were up. I wouldn’t say that I was angry, but I was definitely offended.

  “There’s nothing wrong with football per say, I guess I just don’t get it. Men tackle and beat each other up all to get a pigskin to the other end of the field. And don’t even get me started on why they feel the need to slap each other’s asses; what’s the point?”

  I chuckled then shrugged a shoulder before trying to put it into terms that maybe she would understand. “It’s more or less along the lines of a bonding ritual among teammates to promote team unity. It can mean many things, from ‘Great job’ all the way to ‘Hey, how’s it going.’”

  “Right, because actually saying those things takes up too much time? What happened to good old-fashioned conversation?”

  “So what is your favorite movie? No, wait I know, and I really didn’t picture you as a Twihard. Team Edward?”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s only my deepest fantasy to meet my very own vampire who sparkles.” She clasped her hands and brought them to her chest while fluttering her eyelashes. I wanted nothing more than to kiss the smirk clean off of her face. “No, I would be more along the lines of Team Jacob. The big meaty arms and to have the ability to turn into a werewolf in two point five seconds. I love the fact that I would never get cold with his constant body heat.”

  Hope blossomed in my chest like some chick, and heat flared within my veins. I was more along the lines of a werewolf than a pussy vampire. And now I’ve gone as low as to make fucking Twilight comparisons. Must be the hot chocolate and in-depth conversation making my brain misfire.

  There was absolutely nothing wrong with my libido, though. My lust for this woman was through the roof, and I still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about me. But one thing I knew for certain was that I couldn’t wait another minute to have my lips upon hers. I wouldn’t know the outcome of anything if I didn’t at least try.

  I shifted forward on the couch, bracing her upper arms in my hands all while noticing the surprised expression on her face. Yanking her body toward me, I hauled her onto my lap. Her eyes widened as she bit down on her plump lip as she stared at my mouth. Those blue irises focused back on me, and neither of us moved. My hand cupped her jaw, and I gently pulled her lip from her teeth with the pad of my thumb before gliding it across the apple of her cheek. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Marlee.” Her cheeks reddened with my compliment. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  Instead of pushing me away, her hands gripped onto my shirt, and her eyes flared at my admission. She was completely on board with the idea. “Thank Christ.” I brought my free hand to cup her other cheek and guided her toward me, closing the distance between us.

  As soon as our lips fused together, I swear that I saw fireworks. I know that sounds so clichéd, but it was true. Sparks of brilliant colors exploded behind my closed eyelids as I regaled of her perfectly plump lips; they were soft and tender and more than a little tentative. But it shocked the shit out of me when her mouth opened, and her small tongue darted out to trace along the seam of my lips until they parted.

  She took exactly what she wanted, and it made me burn even hotter for her. If that was even possible, because let’s face it, the lust I had for her was burning like an inferno.

  My tongue gave no mercy as it plunged deep inside her mouth. A deep, guttural groan released from the back of my throat and rather than being embarrassed by my intense reaction, I owned it, because that shit couldn’t be contained. Holy fuck she tasted amazing. There wouldn’t ever be a time when I didn’t associate hot chocolate with this little pixie. And the woman could kiss. I could happily sit here and kiss her for the rest of the afternoon, although not all parts of my body would be as content.

  Marlee shifted her legs to where she was now straddling my lap. A whimper escaped her as she began grinding her core against my already pissed off, straining erection. I was grinning internally to know that she couldn’t keep her emotions bottled up either. It was no fun being with a woman who didn’t voice her pleasure and vice versa with her displeasure.

  Who knew that underneath that innocent exterior was a brazen pixie who would take what she wanted so freely.

  As much as it pained me to do it, I needed to cut this short or else I’d be blowing my load in my jeans like it was my first time.

  I pulled my lips away, breaking the kiss and instantly missed her contact. She stayed close, our ragged breaths mingling together.

  “It seems I got a bit carried away.” The humor in her voice made the edges of my mouth tip up with a smile. Thank goodness she didn’t apologize. It was refreshing to know that the sense of undoing was mutual and reciprocated.

  “You can get carried away anytime you want. Preferably when you’re straddling me again.” And naked would be an added bonus, I wanted to say but didn’t want to push my luck.

  She released her fingers one at a time as they untangled from where they were buried in my shirt and then tentatively ran the tips gently across the gash at my forehead. “It looks better, but you probably need to apply more ointment and another bandage and then let it breathe at night.” The sincerity in her voice and the look of concern painted on her face made it difficult to swallow.

  How am I deserving of this type of affection?

  The answer could only be construed as that I wasn’t.

  I searched her face trying to memorize all the lines and angles. The lone freckle that sat just to the right of her nose that was begging to be kissed and the adorable little dip above her top lip. All of her unique features that made up the beautiful woman before me.

  It’d been several moments since we’ve spoken, and Marlee now appeared unsure of herself under my admiration. Wispy strands of her hair fell into her face from where they came loose from their confines of the knot on top of her head. I removed one of my hands, which were still cupping her cheeks, and brushed them back off of her forehead. I immediately could tell that something was
n’t quite right, so I lowered her face down to me and pressed my lips against her forehead. Her skin was on fire, and as much as I would like to give props to myself and say that it was me, I knew in this instance that it’s not.

  “You’re burning up, sweetheart. I think you have a fever.”

  “That’s funny because I was just thinking of how cold I was. The fire and hot chocolate didn’t seem to be warming me up.” She laid her body flush on mine and snuggled into my chest, her head lying on top of my frantically beating heart.

  “Marlee, you probably need to go take some Tylenol.”

  Her answer included a “Mmm,” as she snuggled deeper into my chest. The only difference now was the tiny circles she was drawing on my shoulder with her finger. It felt good. Having her this close to me seeking relief when she wasn’t feeling well felt right.

  And this was the exact moment that I knew that I was in pure fucking trouble.

  I’ve attached myself to this woman, not meaning to, but it happened nonetheless. Even if the circumstances were different, I didn’t think that I would ever want this. But I was leaving, my time here only being temporary. My life consisted of two major components. Those being football and screwing up, and I couldn’t bring this amazing woman into that shit storm. Not saying that she would want that anyway, but the way hope bloomed in my chest I thought that the chances would be pretty favorable.

  What are you talking about? You won’t even tell her your last name in fear that a glimmer of recognition would cross her face. Just tell her who you are before things progress any further, that way if she’s disgusted with you, you’d know before hearts got involved.

  Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

  I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with oxygen. There was a good chance that once I got through telling her she would deck me, and with good reason. So this might be the last pain-free, soothing breath that I was able to take for the foreseeable time that I had remaining here at Tate Manor. “Pixie,” I began, thinking that calling her the nickname I chose for her would lessen the blow just a little bit.

  “Oh shit,” she murmured, sounding a bit nervous. Did she know what I was about to say? Was the guilt I consumed that obvious?

  Before I was given the opportunity to say anything further she leaped off of me and rushed out of the room, her hand covering her mouth. I popped up off of the couch myself and went in search for her. I didn’t think that Tate Manor had this many rooms, but after the third closet, I was about to give up. Where in the world did she go?

  “Marlee?” I hollered and waited with my hands on my hips trying to listen for her to call back. This would be an awesome game of Marco Polo or Hide and Seek if I didn’t think she had holed herself off somewhere and was getting sick. And sure enough, as soon as I quit moving around and concentrated on any little sounds, I heard her retching. Once I finally opened the door to room number five, I found her lying on the cold tile in a small bathroom off of the kitchen. My heart froze in my chest at the scene before me. She looked so small and fragile with her head propped up on top of the toilet, and above all else, she looked absolutely miserable. And then I panicked. I was at a loss because I had absolutely no idea how to help someone who was sick. My boy scout skills didn’t extend to caring for the ill. I was going to have to wing this, and I wasn’t exactly the best at flying without a game plan.

  “Baby?” I said and crouched down on my haunches to rub her back as if it was the most natural thing in the world, which at this moment is exactly the way it felt. I’m sure I would worry about what all this meant later, but for now, my only worry was getting Marlee feeling better. I might be going in blind, but I was going to excel in at least making her feel comfortable because I wouldn’t settle for anything less.

  My first instinct was that she was going to push me away as most women would do. As Marlee had even done, but she just laid her head against the white porcelain and whimpered. “Holden, I’m so sorry.” She was apologizing to me for getting sick.

  I kissed the top of her head and stood to my full height. “I’ll be right back.” I hurried into the kitchen and found a glass which I filled with ice and cold water from the fridge, Tylenol, and lastly a hand towel which I ran under the faucet. Once I returned to the bathroom, she was standing, or more like leaning against the sink, roaming her wet hands along her cheeks and neck. “Here.” I handed her the towel that I found, and the gratitude that had shown in her eyes told me that I had done the right thing. Next, I gave her the Tylenol; she dutifully placed them on her tongue and swallowed with a sip of water.

  “Do you feel like you’re going to get sick anymore?”

  She shook her head. “No, I think I’m done.”

  That answer was enough for me. I grabbed ahold of her hands and clasped them around my neck. “Hold on.”

  “What? What’re you doing?” Having one hand at the small of her back and bringing an arm behind the backs of her knees I gently lifted her into the air, cradling her to my chest. Her hands tightened around the nape of my neck.

  I wound my way through the maze of the first floor and started climbing the stairs with ease toward her bedroom. “I’m taking you to bed.” Halfway up the stairs she finally relaxed, laying her head back on my shoulder.

  She got situated in her bed, where I placed a fresh glass of ice water on her bedside table and tucked her in. I placed a kiss on her fevered forehead and turned to leave her room to let her rest in peace. “Holden?” I almost missed the low tone of her voice against the creak of the closing door.

  My hand braced the handle as I looked around the door at the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen; sick or not, no one would ever compare. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

  “I don’t want to be alone, will you stay with me, please?” I had a feeling that she was more alone than she would ever let on, and whatever her request would’ve been, I would’ve been happy to oblige. Every. Single. Time.

  I smiled to myself and crept back into her bedroom. Locating a chair in the corner of her room, I dragged it along the floor until it rested right next to her bed. Planting my ass in that chair, I rested my elbows on her mattress and ran my thumb along her skin, repeating the pattern of gliding across her forehead, down the tip of her nose, and circling along the apple of her cheek. “Sleep, Marlee.”

  I awoke with a start when my foot fell from the mattress to the wood floor. I immediately had to bite my tongue from cursing so I wouldn’t wake up a still sleeping Marlee.

  I scrubbed a hand down my face and attempted to stretch my extremely taut and on the verge of achy muscles. Falling asleep slumped over in an unforgiving chair will have that effect on you.

  The clock on the bedside table flashed after four in the morning. Marlee had been asleep for well over twelve hours, only waking when I had her take more Tylenol to keep her fever at bay.

  She was still sleeping just as soundly, I noticed by the small rise and fall of her chest. And you could just faintly hear the soft snores she made with each breath she took. I slowly leaned over her and placed my lips to her forehead in a feather-light kiss. Cool to the touch. Relief washed over me that she was staying fever free.

  It wasn’t an easy thing for me to admit, but I was scared. For the first time in my life, I was worried about a woman that I actually cared about, and it scared the shit out of me. What if her illness was life threatening, and she needed to get to the hospital? With the phone lines down and snow that was at least up to my abdomen. I would’ve found a way to get her help or died trying.

  What a wake-up call. Who knew that I would form such a deep emotional tie to Marlee in such a short amount of time?

  It was a double-edged sword, though because I was also mad as hell at her. If she would’ve had a little higher regard for her well-being, then she would’ve closed Tate Manor due to the storm and kept her ass home.

  You never would have met her.

  Then where would you be? Marlee’s words were filtering through my thoughts. It didn’t even m
atter to me that I would’ve been without shelter and basically out of luck if she hadn’t stayed open. Just the thought of never meeting her was enough to make my chest ache.

  My knee bounced relentlessly with all of these irrational thoughts. Marlee was here and on the mend, and I was in a place that was warm rather than suffering in a piece of shit car down in an embankment. No matter what I tried to do to calm my nerves, it did nothing to expel this pent-up energy.

  I needed a long run to clear my head, but that was absolutely out of the question.

  Unless…

  Throwing on my sweats and lacing up my sneakers I popped my earbuds into my ears, found an obscenely loud song, and cranked up the volume as loud as it would go.

  My feet stopped on the landing just inches from the first stair. Bending at the waist, I touched my toes trying to stretch out all of the kinks from not working out for the last several days.

  As I pulled the top of my foot behind me, I tried to think of the last time I took even more than one day off from any form of exercise. No wonder I was feeling out of sorts. I needed a draining workout something fierce.

  It was a definite longshot, but maybe it would help rid me of all the impure thoughts I had of Marlee.

  I took off down the stairs, taking each step at a slow and steady pace as I warmed up. Once I hit the bottom step, I turned around and ran back up them.

  And ladies and gentleman we have a simple at home workout. Simple because it only involves a set of stairs, but easy it is not. “Running stairs engages more leg muscles and improves range of motion.” I could almost hear Coach Knox yelling this in my ear as he’d done about a hundred times before. Anything to help out with our agility.

  After the twentieth time of going up and down the stairs my calves were beginning to scream in protest. Such a sweet pain and one that I had been longing for. I kicked up my speed a notch and kept pounding on the wood.

 

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