Sacked in Seattle: Game On in Seattle Rookies (Men of Tyee Book 1)
Page 7
I followed her, walking past the main room, which consisted of a living room, dining area, and kitchen. I propped my butt on a barstool while she tended to Otto and pretended I didn’t exist. Finally, she stood and eyed me from a safe distance away. Otto sank to the floor, lying on her feet and gazing up at her with the same adoring expression mirrored on my own face.
“How old is he now? Six? Seven?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
She smiled down at Otto, and I wished she’d turn that smile on me.
“Could I have a beer, please?” I flashed her my most charming, boyish grin, the one that usually melted women’s panties from a football field away.
Tiff frowned at me, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips in the most adorable manner. “Why are you here?”
“Just came to visit.”
“Riley, I told you—”
“That you don’t want to be friends or anything. I know. I heard you.”
“Then why the flowers and all the other stuff? Why this drop-by visit?”
“Because I don’t believe you.”
With a heavy sigh, she grabbed a beer from the fridge and handed it to me. She poured herself a large glass of water from the tap and stood across from me, the counter effectively separating us.
“What do you want from me?”
I could think of lots of things. Most of them X-rated. I wisely kept those thoughts to myself. Sex could come later. First I had to get the girl before I, well, got the girl.
“Riley,” she said, sounding exasperated. “What do you want?”
“You,” I said simply with the utmost sincerity.
“You can’t have me. We’ve gone over this multiple times.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why? Why is it so hard to believe?”
“Because your eyes and your body don’t agree with your words. Neither does your heart.”
“You can’t see what’s in my heart, Ry.”
“I can feel it.” God, I sounded sappy, but she brought that out in me. I’d pull out all the stops, including baring my inner romantic.
She didn’t look swayed. She put her water glass on the counter and grabbed a beer for herself, taking a long gulp. I watched her swallow. Even her throat was sexy.
“You’re driving me to drink.” Her mouth twitched, and I knew I’d gotten to her, just as I expected I would.
“I’m irresistible.”
“He’s irresistible.” She pointed at Otto. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
“And a very nice ass, I might add.”
“Riley, go home.” She jabbed her finger toward the door. “Go back to Barbie and Bambi, or whoever they are.”
“Huh?”
“Those two leggy models who’ve been hanging out at your house.”
“You noticed?” I grinned, and she rolled her eyes.
“How could I not notice? They threatened me.”
“What?” My smile dropped from my lips.
“They told me to stay away from you or else. And by the way, I’m not your type.”
“I’ll fucking kill them. And you are my type. They are not.”
“That’s not what they say. I never pegged you for a threesome guy.”
I could feel the heat rise from my neck to my face and ears. Well, shit. “I was drunk. It only happened once, and that was last year. I’m not proud of it.”
“You don’t have to explain your debauchery to me.”
“Debauchery?” I snorted. “Tiff, I haven’t touched another woman since I saw you at the frat party. I pawned those two off on Gage the other night. They have no hold on me whatsoever.”
“You might want to tell them that.” She smiled sweetly at me. “It’s time for you to go, Riley.” She picked up my empty beer bottle and threw it in the recycling.
I didn’t want to go, but I’d overstayed my welcome, and my plan was to patiently wear her down, not hit her over the head with a mallet and force her to love me.
“Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“It’d be best if you didn’t.”
I winked at her. “You don’t mean that, Tiff.” Before she could respond with another cutting remark, I made a quick move and kissed her on the forehead. Signaling to Otto, I slipped out the door, confident I’d made a dent in her armor.
I’d give her a few days without my smiling face before I moved in again. I had a game to concentrate on, and Tiff wasn’t going anywhere. I knew this because my flowers sat on her living room coffee table. No one keeps flowers from a guy they don’t like in such a prominent place, especially week-old ones that were getting a little wilted.
Tiff more than liked me. I only needed to prove it to her. She wasn’t making my mission an easy one, but I was a stubbornly persistent bastard, and I wasn’t giving up anytime in the next century.
* Tiff *
Alisa walked in the door seconds after Riley left and caught me staring out the window at him.
She cocked a brow at me. “Please tell me you got some.”
“I did not. He came over uninvited, and I asked him to leave.”
Alisa frowned. “Girl, you disappoint me. Either jump his bones or some other guy’s, but damn, you need to get laid so you’re not wound so tight.”
“I’m not wound tight,” I argued.
“Really? Last night you rearranged the bookshelf by the color of the spines.”
I shrugged. “It looks better.”
“It looks anal. Besides, you know Wayne’ll mess it up in matter of a few days.”
“Where’ve you been?” I quickly changed the subject.
“Studying with that cute guy from my deviant psych class, only we didn’t do much studying. You should try it sometime. It’s called fucking, and it doesn’t need to be for a lifetime or even tomorrow. Fucking can be pure recreation and nothing more.”
I’d never been able to treat sex like that. “It’s not like I’m a virgin.” I hated these conversations. They made me feel inadequate, prudish, and stupid.
“Why don’t you do horizontal tango with the Ry-man? What’re you waiting for?”
“If I sleep with Riley, it’ll mean more to him than just sex. I can’t lead him on like that.”
“Then find someone else. You need to loosen up. Enjoy life. This is college, not an old folks’ home. Party while you can. There are plenty of guys out there willing to help you work out your issues with no strings attached.”
“I don’t have issues.”
Both her brows spiked incredibly high.
“Okay, I have issues, but not with sex.”
“So you say.” Alisa shrugged. Her expression turned serious. “Tiff, I worry about you. I’ve known you for a long time. I know you were sexually active with Jacob, and you enjoyed it. Why not allow yourself to enjoy it again? You don’t have to be in love or even in like with a guy to fuck him. Just do it for fun. It’s a good release from the pressures of school and all that other crap we deal with.”
“I know all that.”
There went those brows again. “If you say so. I’m just trying to help. There’s a big party Saturday night, some guy’s birthday, at a house down the block from the Salty Dog Pub. There’ll be some hot guys there looking to get laid.”
I opened my mouth to protest, and she interrupted. “Think about it.”
“I will.”
For once, Alisa might be right. A hookup might be just the thing for purging Riley once and for all.
* Tiff *
On Saturday, I’d planned a quiet day at home reading a good book, while my roommates went to the game against Cal. The sun shone in a blue sky, giving way to temps in the midsixties. Not bad for Seattle during the first weekend of October. Even so, I could feel that nip in the air signaling the beginning of fall, and the leaves were beginning to turn colors.
The book I’d picked had been an angsty romance featuring two ill-fated young lovers. I gave up after two chapters, not because it wasn’t good, but b
ecause it was too good and hit too close to home. I couldn’t stop thinking of Riley.
Bored, I flipped channels until I came to the game. Second quarter, the score tied seven-seven. I settled onto the worn couch, sipped some hot chocolate, and watched. Okay, actually I watched for glimpses of Riley. The game was secondary. It was stupid to torture myself, but I wasn’t overly bright where he was concerned.
Watching Riley run around in those tight pants all afternoon made me really, really horny. By the time the game was over and the Chinooks had won, including a touchdown catch by Riley, I was truly in a bad way. I went to my bedroom, closed the door, and masturbated to the vision of a sweaty, ripped Riley shed of those tight pants and wearing nothing but his shoulder pads and a smile, a very big, satisfied smile. Of course, his smile wasn’t the biggest thing he was sporting. I ran my hands over my body, imagining Riley’s big hands stroking my bare skin. Sliding one hand between my legs, I pictured the desire burning in his eyes as he drove into me over and over. I pumped two fingers in and out of my pussy until I came in rush of sweet release and cried out his name.
As pleasant as it was, my fingers were no substitute for Riley.
Minutes later, I lay staring at the ceiling, my satisfaction had dwindled, and my frustration was building.
This shit had to stop. I couldn’t keep fantasizing about Riley while avoiding him. I was driving myself batshit crazy. Maybe Alisa was right. I needed to get laid, and the “layer” didn’t have to be Riley. Any anonymous, somewhat attractive guy would suffice. I was sexually deprived and fixating on Riley because he was safe. It wasn’t as though I was saving myself for marriage, after all.
Tonight, things were going to change.
Chapter 9—Conquering Our Shit
* Tiff *
I gulped another glass of liquid courage.
The spiked punch was potent. I was pretty buzzed and feeling somewhat invulnerable. I’d come to this party for one express purpose. To purge Riley from my mind once and for all. To prove I could have casual sex just like all my friends, enjoy it, and move on. I didn’t need meaningful sex with a guy I truly cared about, because if that were the case, the only guy I’d want would be Riley.
I hadn’t even told my roommates I’d decided to go for it. Alisa would embarrass me, and Wayne would be disappointed. He was a romantic at heart and had decided Riley and I were fated to be together.
Maybe sleeping with random guys wouldn’t purge Riley from my heart and my fantasies, but either way, I’d have my answer. He’d been taking up too much space in my head lately, driving me to utter distraction, affecting my studies and my riding. This madness had to stop.
Part of me warned I was inviting another form of madness into my head by behaving out of character. Yet it’d been a long time since I’d had a clue what was in character for me. As a result, I was here, searching for answers, and looking for God knew what.
I staggered to the punch bowl, none too steady, and felt a warm hand on my elbow, holding me up.
“Hey, beautiful,” the guy whispered in my ear. “I’ve been watching you all night.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to face him. “Have you now?” Not slurring my words took some effort.
“Sure have.” He eyed me up and down, his gaze lingering on the cleavage of the tight tank I’d borrowed from Alisa’s closet, then traveling farther down to my legs, encased in skinny jeans. He placed a hand on my hip and slid it down to my ass, squeezing it. I wanted to slap that smug look off his face, but I didn’t. This was the perfect guy to have meaningless sex with, proving I could get beyond my Riley fantasies.
I took a swig of the punch to swallow some of my aversion to this douche. He leaned forward and nibbled on my ear, down my neck, my jaw, and pulled me to him for a rough kiss, not the least bit enjoyable, but I forced myself to endure it.
He pulled away, not even clueing in on how little I was into this. He grabbed my hand. “Let’s go upstairs and fuck.”
I had to applaud his forthrightness, I guess. I allowed him to tow me up the stairs. He tried a few doors until he found an unoccupied bedroom and led me to the bed. I sat down on it, fighting back the bile rising in my throat as he sat next to me and started kissing me all over my neck and face. His mouth angled down on mine, hard and demanding. I squeezed my eyes shut and imagined he was Riley.
A complete cop-out, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.
I needed to get through this first with whatever means at my disposal, no matter how distasteful.
He didn’t kiss like Riley. Riley kissed like summer promises in the dead of dreary, gray Seattle winter. Riley kissed as if his soul were forever intertwined with mine. Riley kissed as though I was the center of his universe.
This guy just—kissed. Nothing special. I might as well have been slobbered on by Riley’s big Newfie for all his kiss did for me. But my reaction didn’t matter. I wanted him to get this done with. We didn’t really need to kiss. Not much. Just do it.
He didn’t even have the decency or empathy to get a clue as to how much his touch and mouth repulsed me.
I could do this. I wanted to do this. I was twenty-one fucking years old in the twenty-first century. I needed to get with the program and quit behaving like a refugee from the 1950s.
You should be having sex with Riley, not some anonymous asswipe, demanded my conscience, while said dickwipe shoved his hands up my tank and groped my breasts. Seriously? Women found this jerk a turn-on? Maybe they were so thrilled to be with him they didn’t care how insensitive he was to their needs. His tongue was halfway down my throat while he pinched my nipples through the thin lace of my bra. I wanted to knee him in the nuts and throw beer in his face.
I shut my eyes again, trying to picture Riley’s intense blue gaze burning into mine, heating my body from the inside out and sending the blood pounding through my veins. Only his image didn’t wipe out the reality of the smirking man currently copping a feel. I put my hands on the jerk’s chest and shoved as hard as I could. He slid off the bed and sat on the floor blinking in surprise.
I caught a movement near the door and squinted into the light spilling inside the room. I’d know that silhouette anywhere.
“Riley,” I said, almost a whisper.
Riley’s eyes drilled into mine, filled with a mountain of hurt and an ocean of disgust. His body tensed and a second later he pivoted on his heel, the door slamming hard after him. I shot to my feet, stepping over the still-dazed idiot on the floor. Without pausing to think about what I was doing, I ran to the door and down the hall after Riley, straightening my clothes and smoothing my hair as I ran. I wiped the taste of douche off my mouth.
I’d made a mistake. Having sex with someone else couldn’t purge Riley from my system. Only Riley could purge Riley, but having sex with Riley came with risks—big ones. There was a huge chance a night with him would do the opposite of purging.
Riley. What was it about him? It went beyond our shared experiences.
I hadn’t fallen in instalove with Riley, not the way I had with Jacob. With Jake it’d been instalust, hot and animalistic. We’d had chemistry. I’d thought I’d loved him—until he pointed a gun in my face and pulled the trigger. There wasn’t a bullet in the chamber. The gun just clicked. Jacob had laughed and said, “Remember me and remember them.” Then he’d swung the gun toward two of my friends and shot them dead. Gina, my bestie, and I huddled on the floor. Riley dived for us as the gun went off again.
My love for Riley had built slowly over the next few years as we struggled to come to terms with our brush with death, our own mortality, and the betrayal of his teammates and my boyfriend. Through it all, Riley had been patient and kind. He’d taken what little I’d given him and been happy with it. Even when I’d broken his heart and dated a guy from another school for a few months. Nothing had happened between us, and the guy eventually tired of my excuses and dumped me.
I hurried after Riley. He was striding down the street, his body tig
ht, his hands fisted. He broke into a run. I raced after him, losing him quickly, but I knew where he was headed.
Home.
And I’d be there as soon as I could.
I caught up with him sitting on the porch in front of his house, his head in his hands. Otto spotted me first and thumped his tail against the wooden slats of the porch, alerting Riley. He glanced up and shot a withering glare at me, his blue eyes chilly as ice, but I saw the heart-wrenching hurt beneath.
“Riley, please, listen. Let me explain.” I sat down next to him. He started to get up, and I grabbed his arm. He yanked it out of my grasp and stood, fumbling with the doorknob. I pushed my way in front of him, blocking his exit.
“There’s nothing to explain. Who you fuck is your fucking business. You’ve made that one hundred percent clear.”
I hated that I was always unintentionally hurting Riley. “I didn’t do it.”
My admission had no effect. He continued to glare at me.
“Did you hear me? I couldn’t do it. The only way I could kiss him was by pretending he was you.”
He turned away from me and propped his elbows on the porch railing. A muscle worked in his strong, square jaw. He stared down at Otto, refusing to look at me. His faithful dog shot me a doggy go-to-hell glower and leaned against Riley, licking his hand.
“But he wasn’t you. He’s a jerk, and you’re—”
He spun and faced me. His big hands gripped my upper arms. “I’m what?” The wounded look in his eyes broke my heart. I was a heartless bitch, and I didn’t deserve the devotion of a guy like him. I could either find a way to dig deep, fight my dysfunction, and deserve him, or subject myself to a life of endless loneliness and longing for what could’ve been.
Was I truly that much of a coward that I would exchange happiness for safety?