Breaking Defenses

by JB Salsbury

  I need to know what went wrong.

  I pull out my phone and call Professor Neal, but my call goes to voicemail. He’s probably at the game along with everyone else.

  There’s only one other person I can get any answers from and he’s currently on the sidelines with his hands stuffed in his pockets watching his teammates live his dream.

  My heart breaks for him.

  Stupid, stupid heart.

  Carey

  We won.

  We fucking won!

  My teammates played hard, fought for every yard, and kicked ass.

  After the game we hopped on a plane back to Los Angeles. My parents met me on campus and took me out to a steak dinner where they all gushed about how much they adore Rowan. They asked where she was. I lied and told them she had to work. And fuck, they were even impressed by that.

  The food was tasteless, and I managed to put on a happy face even though I didn’t feel much like celebrating, not when there’s an entire piece of my soul missing.

  I pull up to my house close to nine o’clock and slam on my breaks when I see Rowan’s Jetta parked out front. She’s lying on the hood, knees up, eyes to the stars. My tire jumps the curb when I turn into my driveway and I barely get the ignition off before I jump from my seat and jog to her.

  She sits up, and my God, she’s never looked more beautiful. “You guys won.”

  I have no idea why she’s here, she could be here just to tell me one more time what a piece of shit I am, to spit in my face and tell me to go fuck myself, and knowing all that I smile. “You watched.”

  “No.” Still on her hood, she pulls her knees close, wrapping her arms around her calves, making herself into a ball.

  Protecting herself from me.

  Fuck that hurts.

  “What are you doing here, Ro?”

  “I wasn’t going to come, but I had to know.”

  “What? I’ll tell you anything. I have nothing to hide.” Not anymore.

  Her eyebrows pinch together. “You failed your final.”

  I shove my hands in the pockets of my hoodie and nod. “Yeah.”

  She drops her chin with a muttered, “Damn.” When her eyes come back to mine they shine with apology. “I’m so sorry. I thought I prepared you, but—”

  “You did. You did a great job preparing me. I knew every answer.”

  “If you knew how did you fail…” Her expression falls, her face pales. “You failed on purpose.”

  “I did.”

  “Carey, why!” She scoots to the edge of her hood letting her feet fall to the ground. “You worked so hard for nothing—”

  “I worked hard and failed on purpose not for nothing, but for everything. I did it for you.”

  “You failed for me…” She murmurs through quivering lips.

  “An eye for an eye, right?”

  She makes a sound, half laugh, half cry. “That’s so…stupid.”

  “If it’s stupid then call me a fool. But I did it, and I’d do it again, because…” I take a step closer, my heart pounding, chest clenching. “I think I’m in love with you, Rowan.”

  Her gaze snaps to mine but she says nothing.

  “Did you hear me, baby?”

  “I heard you. I just don’t believe you.”

  I nod because I deserve that. “That’s okay. If giving up my bowl game wasn’t enough to prove myself, I’ll keep trying. I’ll never stop trying to convince you.”

  She crumbles into tears and holds her head in her hands. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “I told you.” I risk getting closer and when I’m close enough to smell her my body reacts and I wrap her in a hug. I thank God that she doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t hug me back either. “I’m falling in love with you, Ro.”

  “That’s crazy!”

  “Maybe you’re right. It feels a little crazy, a little dangerous. I don’t scare easily but what I feel for you is fucking terrifying.”

  She peers up at me through tear stained eyes.

  I wipe under her eyes. “I know what I did to you was fucked. I was a selfish prick back then, and I’m not saying I don’t still have a lot of character flaws. But I am saying I am still yours, Ro. All six-feet-four inches two hundred and fifty pounds of me belong to you.”

  “I’m afraid to believe you.”

  “I know.” I rub her back. “I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

  Silence stretches between us and I hold Rowan for as long as she’ll tolerate it. She’s not even mine and yet just holding her in my arms makes me feel so complete.

  “Carey?” She sniffs.

  “Yeah, baby.”

  “No more lies?”

  “Never.”

  She pulls back and looks up at me but I don’t let go of my hold on her. “Am I really the only woman you’ve had in your bed?”

  “The night we went in the hot tub? That’s the first time I’ve ever had a woman in my room. The second time I had a woman in my room, it was you, and you were also the first woman in my bed.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Something my dad taught me at a young age. To make my bedroom and bed a sacred place for me and the woman I end up falling in love with.”

  Her eyebrows pinch together. “But, you couldn’t possibly have been falling in love with me the night we went in the hot tub?”

  My face grows hot as she tilts her head back studying me. “You sure about that?”

  Her eyes search mine and whatever she sees there makes her breath catch.

  “You believe me?”

  “I think I do.” Her arms snake around my waist. “Can I please kiss you now?”

  I can’t even imagine how fucking dumb I look when I smile down at her, but I imagine the goofy grin on my face is humiliating as all hell. “You never have to ask. Take what’s yours.”

  She pushes up on her toes and I help by lifting her a little to bring her to my lips. The kiss is soft, sweet, and so full of love that I don’t need to hear her say it. Rowan Campbell loves me too.

  Mine.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Valentine’s Day

  Rowan

  “Can I come downstairs now?”

  One thing I have learned about Carey Slade over the last six weeks of dating is he is insanely impatient.

  I finish lighting the final candle and blow out the match. “Okay! You can come down now!”

  “Finally,” he says with a frustrated groan. His heavy footsteps come down the stairs. “Smells so good.” He rounds the corner to his dining room and his eyes zero in on me.

  Another thing I’ve learned about my new boyfriend? He loves food. But the way his gaze devours me from head to foot, I’d say he loves me more.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day.” I worry my hands behind my back. This is my very first Valentine's Day with a boyfriend, and Carey said he’s never had a special girl on this day either. I wanted to make it special, so I worked all day in his kitchen making pot roast, mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and I made a decadent double chocolate cake. Carey agreed to stay away, either out of the house or locked upstairs so he wouldn’t ruin the surprise. I even got an affordable bottle of champagne.

  “You look so pretty I’m afraid to touch you,” he says, but his arms close around me anyway. I picked up a simple red dress from Target, even found a sexy black lace bra and panty set just for tonight. I pulled my hair off my neck, twisting it into a knot on the top of my head, hoping the style would lure his lips to my throat, one of my favorite places to be kissed. “You make me feel like the luckiest man alive, Ro.” His words are spoken against the skin just below my ear making me shiver. He chuckles, the sound laced with male satisfaction. Finally his lips come to mine in a deep, knee-buckling kiss. When he pulls back he has pink gloss on his lips and he whispers, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  “I hope you’re hungry.” My own words are barely puffs of breath as I try to regain my composure.

  “I’d love to spread y
ou out on this table and eat you.” His deep voice rumbles against my skin and as hard as I worked on this dinner, I’d happily let it all grow cold if he’d rather dress the table with me. Sooner than I’m ready, he releases me smirking when he watches me grip the back of a chair to keep upright. He circles to the other side of the table, his gaze finally settling on the platter of meat, veggies, and steaming egg noodles. “Fuckin’ A, woman. You outdid yourself.” He stands at his chair, waiting for me to take my seat before following to sit in his.

  “I hope it tastes as good as it looks.”

  With long powerful arms he serves me, putting more food than I could ever eat in one sitting on my plate before filing his own. I used to try to tell him to ease up on the portions but then realized he does it so he can eat my leftovers.

  He dives in, forking his first bite between his lips and chewing twice before a groan of pleasure emanates from his throat. “This is so good. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

  I fork a much smaller bite into my own mouth, and it really is delicious. This is the first time I’ve ever made this particular recipe. “I just follow directions well.”

  He hums his delight as he continues to eat.

  After Carey and I made our relationship official, I started spending a lot more time at his house. His roommates and I made a deal. On the nights where I didn’t have to work late or have too much homework, they’d ask me for a list and go buy all the groceries and I’ve been able to try out a dozen new recipes. No cash out of my pocket, a free dinner, and they always clean up afterwards.

  But tonight Carey kicked all his roommates out for the night so we could enjoy just a couple hours alone.

  As I stare at him from over my champagne glass, his hazel eyes sparkling in the candlelight as he watches me, I’m more grateful than ever to have him all to myself.

  “This is the best gift you could’ve given me.” He finishes the last couple bites on his plate.

  I don’t even ask, just hand my plate over to him. “Don’t get too full, I made dessert.”

  His eyes track up my throat to my lips. “I already know what I want for dessert.”

  I can’t help the blush that colors my face. “You’re so bad.”

  “And you are so beautiful.” He pushes his plate aside, sits back in his chair with his tattooed forearm on the table and his champagne flute in his hand. “Come here.”

  I take my glass and he scoots away from the table just as I approach him. I take my spot on his lap, feeling so tiny against his massive chest. He presses a kiss to my temple. “I love you, baby.” Another kiss. “You ready for your gift?”

  “Yes, but should we go upstairs for that?” We could work off dinner and work up an appetite for dessert.

  His eyes dance with laughter. “Upstairs is part two of your gift.” He reaches behind him and pulls a letter-sized envelope from his back pocket. “Here.”

  I set down my glass and take the offered envelope. “Did you write me a poem?”

  “No.”

  “A sexy math equation?”

  He frowns. “There is nothing sexy about math.”

  I shrug. “Agree to disagree.”

  “Just open the fucking letter already, Ro.” He nips at my shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

  I pull out the letter, fold it open and the first thing I notice is the embossed letterhead. “Raven’s Nest? As in your mom Raven?”

  He nods to the letter. “Read it.”

  “Dear Ms. Rowan Campbell,

  Raven’s Nest is an organization started nearly thirty years ago to help battered women get safe and back on their feet. We quickly realized that education was one of the top priorities of women coming out of desperate situations and in response developed a scholarship program for outstanding women in their field.

  Partnering with hundreds of generous donors, we have given out over a million dollars in scholarships over the last twenty-five years.

  After reviewing your application, we are honored and privileged to offer you a $100,000 scholarship to help complete your studies at Bear State University…” There is more, but I’m too stunned to read it. “Is this a joke?”

  He squeezes me tighter. “Nope. I told my mom everything—what happened in high school and you losing your scholarship.” He recoils. “To say she was upset with me is an understatement. She ripped into me pretty hard, but I deserved it. Anyway, she told me about the scholarship program at Raven’s Nest. Yes, it’s her name, but she has very little to do with it now. She got in touch with the scholarship committee and they reached out to BSU, got your transcripts. Even looked at your transcripts from high school. I told them about how you work three jobs and live in a garage twenty-five miles from campus. I wasn’t sure if they would agree to offer you anything, but two days ago my mom sent me this letter.” He nods to the paper in my shaking hand.

  “I can’t accept this.”

  “I figured you might say that.” He doesn’t look or sound upset, or annoyed. “Think about it though. Sleep on it for a couple nights.” He runs his palm up my back to squeeze the back of my neck. “You deserve this, Ro. You work harder than anyone I’ve ever known, you’re smart as shit, and I cheated you out of a free ride.”

  “You can’t make up for that by throwing other people’s money at me.”

  His expression turns pained, my words a slap to his face. “I know that. But they didn’t approve you because of me, Ro. They don’t just hand out money to anyone, and my mom made it clear this was the organization's decision and we would accept whatever they decided. All I did was nominate you.”

  Heat swells in my eyes and the sentences blur together through the veil of my tears.

  “Don’t cry.” He gently swipes at my cheeks. “The last thing I wanted to do is upset you on Valentine’s Day.”

  I wipe at my cheeks and slump against his chest. “If I accept this, I’ll feel like a fake.”

  “This money has been a long time coming.” He kisses the top of my head. “I really think you should take it.”

  $100,000 means I won’t have to clean houses anymore. It means I could move to a nicer place, quit one of my jobs to focus on school.

  “You did this for me.”

  He kisses a lone tear that gathers at the corner of her eye. “I did. And I’ll keep on fighting to help you get the kind of life you deserve.”

  I sniff and lean deeper into his chest. “It would be smart to accept it.”

  “And you’re the smartest woman I know.” Another kiss, this one on my cheek. “You ready to go upstairs for your second gift?

  A hint of a smile bends my lips. “I can’t imagine anything topping this.”

  He glares playfully. “That sounds like a challenge.” His lips brush against my throat. Wearing my hair up was such a good idea. “I am fully prepared to top your hundred-thousand-dollar scholarship.”

  The heat of his breath and promise in his words makes me shiver. “An impossible task.”

  He hums. “Challenge accepted.”

  I shriek when he scoops me up, cradling me in his arms like I weigh nothing, and takes off at a jog up the stairs.

  Carey

  I’ve never been so nervous in my life as I climb the stairs to my bedroom with Rowan in my arms. Her soft body pressed against my chest, I wonder if she can feel my heart beating against my ribs.

  I hit the top floor landing and slow my roll to my open bedroom door. Two steps inside, I lower her to her feet and wonder if she’ll even notice. She answers that question when she turns curious eyes to me. I lean one shoulder against the doorframe hoping she sees it as lazy confidence rather than the fear of rejection I worry will send my ass to the ground.

  “What is that?”

  I tilt my head, finding her question kind of funny and so fucking cute. “What does it look like, baby?”

  She rolls her eyes and looks again. “I know it’s a desk and bookshelf but why did you get another desk and why does it have a big red bow on
it?”

  I lift my brows, waiting.

  “Carey!” she says with laughter in her voice. “Did you buy me a desk?”

  “I did.” I push off the doorframe, grab her hand and drag her closer. “I put it together too.”

  She runs her hand along the maple finish while she takes in the oiled bronze fixtures. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Babe, are you crying?” I chuckle and draw her into my arms.

  Her hands wrap around me. “I’ve never had my own desk before.”

  “Shhh…” I smile and kiss the top of her head. “I’m so happy you love it.”

  She nods against me. “It’s perfect.” I release her enough so that she can turn and look at it again. “You think it’ll fit against the wall between my bed and my bathroom?”

  “About that.” I guide her to my bed and sit her down, kneeling between her feet. Her bare thighs are irresistible and I take advantage of my position, rubbing my palms up and down her silky-smooth skin. “I was hoping.” Shit, my stomach flutters with nerves. “You might want to keep desk here.”

  Her eyebrows slant together. “I sleep over a lot, but I don’t think…” Her eyes widen. “Oh.”

  “Move in with me.”

  “Carey, I—”

  “I emptied half my closet. The top three drawers in my dresser too. And the right sink and drawers around it are also yours.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Take the left then. I don’t care which side you claim, just please…” Kissing her throat is a cheap move, she melts in my hands every time, but I’m desperate here and I want her to move in with me. “Say yes.”

  She tilts her chin up, giving me free rein to explore. “You’re not playing fair.”

  “Neither were you when you stole my heart and made it so my life no longer works without you.”