by Erika Kelly
“Did you try any of the others?”
He nodded, but his gaze had lowered to her mouth. He went lazy-lidded again, as if he’d lost his train of thought.
She held up the globe. “Tell me the story?”
“No story.” The color flooding his cheeks said otherwise.
“A big bruiser like you collecting snow globes? Come on. This has got to be a good one.” She crossed her legs, settling in.
One corner of his mouth tugged up, but he didn’t say anything.
“Is this how you pull the ladies in? ‘You wanna see my snow globe collection?’” She used a cheesy masculine voice.
He laughed. “The ladies don’t see my…collection.”
“You drape a cloth over them?”
He laughed. “No. I don’t have sleepovers.”
“Ever? Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to make Marcella or anyone else uncomfortable. Can you imagine if we all brought home our…ladies?”
“So that’s what all those houses all over the ranch are for. Do you each have your own?”
“Our own house?”
“Your own hookup lair.”
“Nah. I’m not into hookups anymore.”
“What? I know you don’t have a girlfriend, and there’s no way a guy like you is celibate. Explain.”
He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “It was fun in high school and college, but it got…uncomfortable.”
“I don’t even know what that means. You did it so much you threw your back out and now the old sciatica’s acting up? You’ve slept with every woman in town and now avoid CVS and grocery stores?”
“No. I just don’t like the imbalance of it.”
“What imbalance? The nature of a hookup is a one-time thing. You both have fun.”
“Do you really want to have this conversation?”
“Oh, honey, I’m wide awake now.” She made a gimme motion with her fingers.
“I don’t normally have this kind of conversation with houseguests.”
“Pretty sure we moved past that when you kissed me at the hydroponic farm.”
More color tinged his cheeks.
She leaned in. “You know what’s got me on the edge of my seat here?”
He waited.
“You’re all serious and reserved…” She paused to see if she could elicit a response, but other than the slackening of his jaw he gave nothing away. “But, underneath, there’s this raging testosterone that I suspect you keep on a tight leash. And it makes me incredibly curious. What does it take…what kind of woman makes you…snap. ”
His features tightened, his gaze narrowed. “Sweetheart, you don’t want to unclip my leash.”
“Unfortunately...” She sighed. “I kind of do.”
His energy went feral, like if she turned on the lights she’d see his hairs standing on end, but he clenched those muscles down hard.
She leaned back, away from the gale force winds billowing out of all that restrained lust. “No, I get it. I do. You’re all about Ruby and training and don’t want things to get messy. So, go back to explaining why you don’t do hookups.”
“Delilah.” His voice sounded harsh, like he’d just dragged it across asphalt.
“What? We’re just hanging out.”
His gaze dropped to her breasts and then to her bare legs.
“In my jammies.” She grinned.
“You overestimate my ability to keep it leashed.”
“Okay, come on. I’m not even trying here. I’m not flipping my hair or licking my lips or brushing my boobies against your arm.”
“You don’t need to do any of that.” With a grimace, he shifted his laptop.
And she understood that, unless she wanted to climb onto his lap and relieve the boner he was undoubtedly sporting under that computer, she’d better stop playing with him. “So, the imbalance?”
“Jesus.” He squeezed his eyes closed, and it looked like he might be counting to a hundred…million billion. But then he drew in a deep breath, and the tension eased—slightly—in his shoulders. “It’s not that big a deal. I’m just not into kissing women I don’t know. That I don’t feel something for. And I don’t go down on a stranger, either. Which means the hookup isn’t reciprocal, and that doesn’t feel right.”
“Okay, but if you’ve never had a girlfriend, and you don’t hook up…? I mean, no way a guy like you isn’t getting any.”
“Really? You can’t come up with any other scenarios? I said I don’t go down on women I don’t know.”
“Oh, my God, Will. You’ve got a little black book?” She thought of how many months out of the year he traveled for his competitions. “A ‘friend’ in every port?”
He shrugged. “I have friends that I travel with. Friends who ski competitively. So, when we’re together, we…”
“Fuck. Go on. Say it.” She shouldn’t be rattling his cage. Not unless she wanted to let the beast out.
Only, she really, really wanted him out and prowling. She wanted those big hands on her ass, his thighs straddling her hips. She wanted to see him, all of him. She wanted to taste him.
But he had too much self-control. “We spend time together.”
“I don’t do hookups, either. Never have. Just not my thing.”
“Yeah? What’s your thing?”
A startling image popped into her mind. Will on his knees behind her, hands on her hips, that first rush of bliss as he slid inside her. She imagined his hands cupping her breasts, and her whole body went hot and hungry. You’re my thing. “Every boyfriend I’ve ever had, I’ve worked with. You know, school, kitchen, whatever. I always work super long hours, so I just can’t give anyone the kind of commitment he deserves.” It was kind of sad, wasn’t it? That she was twenty-six, and she’d never been in love? “I know you’ve never had a girlfriend, but have you ever been crazy about someone? Like a high school crush? Or a woman you ski with?”
“No. I don’t think I’m built that way. I don’t…give much weight to that sort of thing.”
That sort of thing?
His phone vibrated, and he reached for it on the nightstand. His brow furrowed when he read the screen. “It’s my manager. He never calls this late.” He gave her a look that asked, You mind if I take it?
She gestured to the phone. Of course not.
“This can’t be good.” He hit Accept.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Are you on your computer right now?” Alex asked.
“Yeah, why?” Tearing his attention away from Delilah physically hurt. All of his senses were attuned to her. To her scent, the bounce of her breasts, and the teasing smile that had him talking about things he didn’t share with anyone.
But his manger wouldn’t have called if it hadn’t been important, so Will lifted the lid of his laptop and rubbed a finger on the mouse to wake it up.
“Damien’s taken it to the next level. It’s all over SportsNews.com.”
“What is?” When the screen came to life, he started to put the address into the search bar.
“Just go to his YouTube page. You’ll see it there.”
He typed in YouTube instead. “Do I really want to see this right now?” When I have Delilah all to myself in my bedroom? One glance at her had him wanting to hang up. All that bright, blonde hair—Jesus—he wanted it wrapped around his fist. Wanted it spread all over his thighs. He pressed the laptop down, though it did nothing to relieve the pressure of his hard-on.
But, yeah, he probably should deal with whatever problem Damien had stirred up now.
“Up to you,” Alex said.
“Does it have to do with the investigation?”
“You know, I don’t think Damien gives a damn about that, and I don’t think it was his intention to get you suspended. He seems out to prove he’s the better athlete.”
“He’s not.” The way Delilah stroked the rounded top of his snow globe made his cock go hard and need surge through his body. Imagining her fingers w
rapped around him sent a volt of electricity through him. Fuck me, I want her.
What had he told her? I don’t give much weight to that sort of thing.
Until now. He’d neglected to tell her that part.
“You on that page yet?” Alex sounded impatient.
“Listen, I’ve got…company. I’ll look at it in the morning.” He had Delilah all to himself, and he wasn’t giving that up.
“Okay, call me if you want to talk about it.”
“Sure. Thanks.” He tossed the phone aside.
She tipped a chin toward his laptop. “What’s going on?”
“More of Damien’s bullshit.”
“What is it this time?”
“Don’t know.”
“Well, let’s find out. Maybe we can get ahead of it.”
We. “You get this involved in all your friends’ lives?” She had a little birthmark—tiny thing—right at her temple, and he wanted to kiss it.
What the hell was the matter with him?
“No. Just the ones I care about.” She tapped the laptop. “Come on. Let’s see.”
“It doesn’t matter what he comes up with. I’ll prove it on the terrain.”
“Yeah, but you know what? As long as Damien’s the only storyteller, a lot of people are going to buy into it.” She rolled forward, twisting around so she could sit between him and the nightstand. Once settled, she shifted the computer so it straddled both their laps. “Let’s not let him control the narrative.”
Smart woman. Her hair brushed over him, and the insanely soft skin of her arm pressed against his. If he didn’t distract himself with the video, he was going to tumble her back on his mattress and kiss the ever-loving hell out of her. He clicked Play.
Damien had posted a split screen of the final run of the World Games event. On one side Will performed a cork 1080, while Damien, on the other side, pulled a switch double-cork 1260.
Will couldn’t imagine why the hell he’d do that, since it would only show that Damien hadn’t gotten enough amplitude.
Good. Let them see the damn hand drag, too.
His body tightened in anticipation of his next move when the film cut off, and the screen went black. “Fuckin’ hell.” The footage ended before Will’s back-to-back double-cork 1440s.
And, of course, before Damien’s hand drag.
What a pissant, only showing my 1080 and cutting out his technical faults.
A moment later, Damien appeared, talking to the camera. “Look, I never meant to cause this kind of trouble. I’m only pointing out that, yeah, Will’s good, but he’s not better than every other competitor for the past seven years. And I’m showing you the footage so you can see that, while he might be good technically, he doesn’t have guts.”
“Is that one of the judging criteria, asshole?” Delilah kept her gaze on the screen, shaking her head. “Guts?”
Will paused the video. “Look, anyone who launches himself off a twenty-two-foot ice wall—and then pops another twenty feet above the lip of the pipe—has guts. The difference between me and Damien is that he thinks the more spins he pulls off the better his score should be. But it’s not about flash. It’s about style and flow. It’s about control. It might look cool to pull off extra rotations, but if your arms are flailing and you’re not grabbing your skis, if you botch your landing…then you didn’t pull off your ride. It’s that simple.” He pushed Play.
“I’m tired of talking about it,” Damien said. “And that’s why I put up the footage. See for yourself. I take more chances, I do riskier tricks, and…let’s just put it out there, I put it all out on the line because I fucking love this sport.”
“You’re saying Will doesn’t?” an off-camera voice said.
Damien shrugged. “I don’t know much about him. He keeps to himself. But I do know he doesn’t have heart.”
“Ha.” Delilah shook her head. “What a douchebag.”
“Forget it.” Will closed the laptop, reaching across her to put it and his glasses on the nightstand. His arm brushed across her breasts, covered in only the thin cotton of her tank top. He breathed in her vanilla and honey scent, the expensive shampoo, and his soul woke up and just fucking yearned.
He jerked his arm back. See, that’s the thing. Will had always been a needy fucker. He’d learned at an early age to switch it off, and he had to do that now. Forget that she was Callie’s friend, she was leaving in five weeks. There was no point to any of this attraction.
Besides, nothing mattered more than Ruby, and he wasn’t going to create an unstable home environment by getting involved with a houseguest.
But, before he could tell her it was time to get some sleep, she picked up the snow globe. “Tell me.” She pretty much whispered the words, like lovers would do on a Sunday morning under the covers.
He needed her to go. There was no way to hide his hard-on, not with her soft skin brushing his arm and her bare breasts underneath that tank top. Make it quick. “It’s not a big deal. My parents traveled a lot when I was a kid, and I was that whiny little bitch who pitched a fit every time they left.”
“So, they started a tradition of bringing you a snow globe from each place they went?”
Well, this is embarrassing. “Pretty much.”
“You’re not a very good storyteller.” She smiled, soft, teasing…fucking sexy.
“We probably shouldn’t tell stories in my bed.”
Her gaze dipped to his lap, and her eyes flared. She took in a soft inhalation. “All right, just tell me this one thing, and then I’ll go.”
“There’s really nothing to say. They brought a few back, but then my mom left and that was it.”
“Dude.” She tipped her chin toward his dresser. “That’s more than a few.”
Yeah. “The rest I bought myself.”
Her hand went to this thigh—dangerously closed to his painful erection—and she gave a gentle squeeze. Meant, he was sure, to offer compassion, but it had an entirely different effect.
“Go, Delilah. Get some sleep.” It sounded meaner than he’d intended.
She hesitated, but then she got up and headed for the door, her ass ripe as a peach in those pajama shorts. At the threshold, she turned back to him. “Damien’s wrong, you know. You’ve got plenty of heart. You don’t show it much, but when you love, you love hard. And that’s really hot.”
Fuck, she didn’t know what those words meant to him. About his heart. He flicked off the lamp, knocking all the pillows off the bed but one, and settling in. He wanted to close his eyes, but he waited until the pale orange shaft of light spilling in from the hallway disappeared.
It didn’t.
And then he heard, “What you don’t have is courage.”
Her voice hit him like a slap, sending a stinging shot of adrenaline through him.
“And I’m not talking about the kind that lets you ride down the spine of a mountain on sticks. I’m talking the kind where you risk your heart. Your mom’s a bitch. No offense, but she’s awful. Pushing you away? Making you feel needy? That’s messed up, but that’s her issue. Not yours.”
“Delilah. I have a four-hour workout starting at six in the morning. We’re done with this conversation.”
“Yeah, yeah.” But she didn’t go. She stood there, one foot on top of the other, one hand on the door frame. “The thing is, I’m not sure anyone’s ever told you this stuff before. Your brothers are younger, and your uncle’s kind of…”
“Eccentric.”
“Well, okay, sure. But I was going to say detached. So, he might not have pointed out that your mom made you feel like your love, your affection, was ugly. You were a little boy with a pure and big heart, and you loved unabashedly. It literally makes me sick to my stomach to imagine you throwing yourself at your mom, only to have her scrape you off. To picture you climbing onto her lap and having her push you away. Don’t you know how thrilled most moms would be to have their little boy so happy to see them? You have to know that the normal response wo
uld be to grab you and hug you and love you all up.” Her tone sounded imploring, like she couldn’t believe he didn’t get it. “Her response…it wasn’t normal, Will.”
He could still hear that brittle voice in his head. Leave me alone. Jesus. Can’t you find something to do?
He didn’t want to remember any of that. It still hurt.
No, it embarrassed him.
But Delilah didn’t know, so she stuck her finger on the wound and pressed down hard. “And it kills me because you’re doing it to Ruby, and you don’t even realize it.”
Oh, hell, no. She’d gone too far. He threw off the covers and got to his feet. “That’s bullshit.” He stalked closer to her. “I don’t shove her off my lap, and I sure as hell never tell her to leave me alone.”
“No, you don’t.” She stepped right up to him. “It’s not about the words. Think about it for a second. Ruby lights up the minute she sees you, and do you know what your expression says? Don’t. Don’t love me like this. Don’t need me like this. Is it as harsh as your mom was to you? Not even close. But does it matter? When you tell Ruby to go back to bed or she can’t run with you or when you tell her you don’t have time to dance with her, Ruby’s not hearing that you want her to get into the swing of things here.”
Every word hit his skin like a pellet.
Forcing him to listen.
“She’s hearing that you don’t want her. And if you don’t believe me, step back into your old shoes and remember what it felt like to love your mom so, so much, only to have her push you away.” She put her hands on his chest, her tone turning urgent. “I know it’s none of my business and, believe me, I try to stay out of it, but I can’t just sit back and watch this happen. I see how much you want to do right by her, and I’m telling you that you’re doing it wrong. I know you don’t want to crush Ruby’s spirit the same way your mom crushed yours, but you’re doing it.”
“I’m doing the best I can.”
“Yeah, I know that. I know your intentions are good. But I’m telling you what’s actually happening here.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m not sure anyone’s told you this before, so at the cost of really pissing you off, I’m just going to say it. You didn’t need your mom too much. You were a sweet, open-hearted little boy, and your mother shut you down. You let that shallow, cold woman snatch the spirit right out of you.” She got up on her toes and placed her warm palms on his chest. “And, just so you know? It’s still there. I see glimpses of it with Ruby, and in the way you talk to your brothers. You’re a man who loves hard and feels things deeply. That’s beautiful and human, and I hate your mom for stealing that from you.”
