“Madi, I think—” he stopped, coming to her side even as she ignored him, looking ahead as if he wasn’t even there. His hand covered hers and he looked up into her face. “Mad. You should stop.”
She shook her head, vehemently.
“Yeah, how about we—” Again, he stopped and sat his shake down in the cup holder. And he was grateful he did because her foot shifted and she started to teeter. Brett shuffled quickly behind her and grabbed her as she fell and bounced up and into his arms. They both fell backwards onto the floor, Brett hitting his ass hard. He winced even as Madi cried out, grabbing her bare thigh which was burned from the skid on the treadmill and bleeding. Brett stood with her cradled in his arms and moved over to the treadmill, slamming down the stop button, before he turned and carried her out the door. She was sobbing into his collarbone as her arms wrapped around his neck, probably a combination of her emotions and the embarrassment she felt.
Brett sat her down on the couch, mindful of her leg as he moved into the pantry and grabbed the bottle of peroxide and gauze he’d seen there while searching for protein powder. One thing about athletes, they always had medical kits for injuries handy.
Madi was holding the sides of her face when he came back to her side. She observed him as he took the bottle, inverted it onto a clean gauze pad, and gently placed it onto the big, oblong burn mark on her upper thigh. She cried out in equal parts pain and anguish, her hand covering his as her head flew back.
“Oww, oww, oww,” she cried and whimpered, looking down at her wound.
After several moments, the pain subsided and her cries turned to sniffles. Her red eyes looked him over and he frowned. “What the hell were you thinking, Madi? This could have been much worse. You were too emotional to be running on a treadmill like that.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I…I started my period.”
Brett’s brows rose. He knew what it meant for her, but he wanted the explanation out loud. He wanted confirmation that he was still her best friend, the one she trusted with her secrets, the one she told everything to. He waited, his eyes coaxing it out of her.
She huffed and looked away, her lips quivering. It took her another few minutes for her to confess, but she couldn’t look him in the eyes as she did so, which hurt him. “Hunter and I were trying to get pregnant.”
There it was. She wasn’t pregnant with Hunter’s baby. The period marked her final failure at conception. As sad as that made Brett feel for her, he also felt a huge sense of relief that she wasn’t with child, wasn’t with Hunter’s child. God, I’m such an asshole.
“I was praying so hard that I got to keep something of him, some small part of him here on earth. But God is punishing me. I’m a failure as a wife, a woman. I couldn’t even do that right.”
“Jesus, Madi, is that what you think? C’mere.” He pulled her roughly into his chest and let her cry. He let her sob and snivel and weep until his shirt was soaked in her tears and snot. She was a mess, but he understood. First, she’d had her husband’s death to grieve for, now she had the child she’d never conceived to mourn, too. He was glad they were here alone in Mexico. This would’ve been another factor for her mother to add fuel to her fire; another indicator that Madi was “losing her mind.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Madi murmured as she stroked his bicep, making him shiver.
He remembered the hit his gut had taken when Hunter had declared it to the team one day at practice months and months ago:
“Guys, you’re looking at a future father right here,” Hunter stated proudly in the locker room once they’d left the showers.
Brett recalled feeling like he would hurl. The thought of Madi being pregnant with any man’s child that wasn’t his own made Brett physically sick. His stomach tightened as his center, Josh Robicheaux, asked what he couldn’t. “Dude! Is Madi pregnant?” Josh clapped Hunt’s back in celebration.
“Not yet, but we are certainly trying. Check this out.” Hunter then took a racy picture out of his bag and began to tape it up to his locker. It was Madi, in a sexy white negligee lying flat on their bed; she was the very image of every fantasy Brett had ever had of her, hair splayed on the pillow, leg up, biting into her bottom lip as if she couldn’t wait to be ravished. Brett gulped and looked away, trying to decelerate his racing heart.
“Fuck, dude, your wife is one naughty little angel.” Lang touched the photo, looking at it a little too long for Brett’s comfort.
“You ain’t seen naughty… Look at this one.”
Hunter then flashed another Polaroid, a pic of Madi with her lips around—assumedly—Hunter’s dick, sea-foam green eyes burning into the viewer’s as she looked up seductively.
“Jesus Christ, Hunt, you can’t put that in there,” Travis said with a snort. “You’re gonna turn the whole damn team on.” They all laughed, everyone save for Brett who was certain he was gonna hurl now.
In a flash of fury, he shot forward and took the pic from Hunt’s grasp, watching Hunter’s eyes narrow. “You son of a bitch,” Brett growled, mad as hell with his best friend. “How dare you display pictures like this! She’s your wife, not your fuckin’ mistress. Have a little more respect.”
After all, Brett knew Madison would be horrified if she knew what Hunt was showing them all.
“What’s the matter, friend, you jealous?” Hunter crossed his arms over his chest, and all Brett wanted in that moment was to break the bastard’s nose.
“Why would you put this in your locker?” Brett shook the photo at him.
“Oh, lighten up, Mr. Self-righteous; it’s just to get me even more pumped about this whole baby-makin’ thing. I see these, and it’ll get me primed and ready for my wife.”
Brett had never been more disgusted with Hunter. If this was his idea of a game or a joke, it wasn’t funny. This should be private, not hanging up in public for anyone to walk by and see. Brett shook his head. “Take them down.”
“Why? It’s not like taking them down will deter anyone from desiring my wife. They covet, anyway. Don’t they, Brett?”
It wasn’t the first time Hunt had called him out like this, and Brett was getting sick of it. Brett had backed off a lot since Madi and Hunter had gotten married, but Brett knew Hunter would always have a problem with their close relationship. Brett had been there long before Hunter was, and Hunt was never going to be okay with that fact. He hated Brett and Madi’s easy friendship; it was becoming more and more clear as time went on. Hunter could be friends with Brett, but he didn’t want his wife to be. Was he threatened? Why did it matter so much? Madi was Hunter’s. He’d won. Wasn’t that enough?
They squared off, jaws ticking, eyes narrowed, a breath away from beating the shit out of one another before Brett said, “Fine. Go ahead and pin them up in your locker, but if Cavanaugh or Jerry see these, it’s your ass.”
With that, Brett threw the pic back in his face and walked off.
Brett now had to make sure those pictures were taken down before Madi came in and cleaned that locker out; she would be appalled if she saw them. He’d be sure to hit the complex up when they got back and do just that.
For now, he stroked her hair and told her. “It’s ok. It’s not exactly something you announce to the world… unless, of course, your name is Hunter Thomas.”
“Oh, God, he didn’t.”
“Yup, he did.” The pictures flashed through his head again, and he tried hard to suppress his body’s response as he recalled the sexual look in Madi’s eyes. He’d seen them like that once himself; it had been so long ago, but he’d never forget that night.
“Damn him,” Madi grated out angrily.
“He was just excited,” Brett defended, not sure why he felt the need to justify Hunter’s shady actions.
“That makes me feel worse. Now everyone knows I’m a failure.”
“Hey,” Brett took her face in his palm and brought her chin up. “Stop saying that. You aren’t a failure. You’ve never failed at anything in your life
. You’re a fucking champion. Even your team.” Brett trailed off as he said this, all too aware that the team was going to have a tough time this year with Hunter gone. He gulped, aware that he’d brought up a sore subject.
“I’m sorry,” Madi said again.
“I want you to erase that phrase from your vocabulary. If anyone is sorry during all this, it has to be me. But we have to stop apologizing to each other, ok?”
Madi nodded. “You’re right.”
“Now, c’mon, we’re in Cancun. No more tears. No more regrets. The day is stunning, and I wanna go to the beach.”
Madi scowled, looking off and wiping at his wet shirt. “I’m still on my period.”
“Well, I’m sure Val has tampons in a bathroom somewhere,” Brett offered, getting a blush out of Madi. “Besides, we’ll stay longer so you can enjoy it all the more, alright?”
Madi grinned, her mood a little lighter than it’d been in weeks.
“Why don’t you go change, and I’ll make us some smoothies to take out there with us?” he poked at her side, gently tickling her and she laughed.
When she acquiesced, he popped up and made them hearty smoothies with banana, kale, pineapple and mango, adding almond milk and vanilla powder along with some dragon fruit and oatmeal.
Brett ran up and changed into his swim trunks before Madi finally came down, hat on her head, a book in her hands and a towel over her arm. Her tall, tan frame was clad in a turquoise bikini that accentuated her ample curves and a pair of brown leather sandals, and he grinned.
“Damn lady, you are sexy,” he simpered, getting a swat and an eye roll from her. He grabbed the smoothies and out they went to enjoy this amazing Cancun day they’d been blessed with.
“Sexy and bloated and not pregnant,” she grumbled once they’d set their towels down on the sand.
“Hey, I can remedy that if you’d like.” He winked again. She looked at him thoughtfully and his brows went up, then they both broke out into laughter.
Brett couldn’t think of anything more perfect and as he looked down at Madi’s bare belly, he imagined his baby growing there and smiled back at the woman who held his heart forever in her hands.
Madison spent the next three days enjoying the beaches of Cancun and the food that chef Marcel came and made her and Brett for dinner. They spent their mornings working out and at the beach. They’d take long naps after a light lunch and a movie, then swim in the pool before a scrumptious dinner; tonight was fish tacos and Madi couldn’t wait.
Brett elbowed her on the couch as they watched The Predator, one of their favorites.
“There should totally be a female predator. She’d be hot.”
“Eww, gross. What would be hot about a female predator?” Madi wrinkled her nose.
“For one, it would be a bad-ass predator with boobs.”
“I worry about you sometimes, Zeus. I think you need a woman in the worst way.”
“Oh you do, huh?” The grin he gave her made her heart race. “You got someone in mind?”
He’d always been handsome, achingly so with his light brown hair and piercing emerald eyes, big smile, and even bigger body. He was the best features of both Channing Tatum and David Boreanaz… their big brother, on steroids, and with one of the best arms in the NFL.
Brett “Brickhouse” McFadden had stolen her heart long ago. That was until he’d broken it in two one night at a college party.
It’d been a fun night at the frat party at Omega Chi, drinking and dancing with her girls. Madi had decided she was finally gonna go for the gusto and show Brett how she felt after all the years of pining for him but being too afraid to make the first move. What if she was wrong? What if he didn’t feel the same way? She’d gotten tired of waiting and decided she was gonna get hammered—or at least act like she was—and just do it; do what she’d been waiting to do for far too long, what she’d waited on him to do but he hadn’t. Tonight was the night.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said and led him out the door.
He came willingly, and Madi made sure to sway all the way back to Delta Epsilon house, her sorority, so that he’d have a reason to touch her, hold her upright, and get her back to her dorm. She’d paid her roommate off so they’d have the place to themselves, at least long enough to make out, she hoped.
Madi hiccupped and giggled, and leaned into his broad, muscular chest as he opened her door. Brett was strong, so strong and tall. He towered over her, dwarfing her despite her own height of five-eight.
He sighed heavily as he pulled her into the room, closed the door behind them, and helped her to the bed.
She pulled him with her as she “fell” and her nose lingered at his chest. She inhaled him, loving his masculine scent. “Mmm,” she moaned as her hands moved from his pecs to his waistline, fingers hooking through the loops of his jeans. Her face came up and she stared into his green eyes as he braced one hand by her head, keeping his weight off her.
“Damn, Sunflower, you’re trashed,” he scowled.
“Are you mad, Cap?” she asked him. Cap, short for captain, was her nickname for her favorite QB ever.
“No, I’m not mad, Madi. I’m glad you’re here with me and not some jerk who’d just hurt you right now,” he grumbled and attempted to pull his weight off her. She quickly wrapped her legs around his waist, stilling him, and arched her hips into his, feeling a hardness between them. She internally squealed, the squeal of victory.
“Mmm,” she moaned again, “me too.”
He visibly shuddered as she rubbed herself against his erection, mesmerized by the feel of it digging into her upper thigh. She’d never felt one before and was incredibly curious at its shape and size.
“M-Madi, you can’t do that.” He groaned aloud.
“Why not?”
The way he sighed and closed his eyes as she continued made her entire body shiver in electric spikes. She felt her sex awaken and his eyes darkened as she bit into her lip. He licked his lips, and she knew now was the time to act. She leaned into his chest and planted her lips on his.
The growl that escaped his throat was beastly and only spurred her desire on as her hand moved up his chest to his jaw and into his hair. His plump lips kissed hers back, much to her delight. She angled her head, deepening the kiss and thrusting her tongue into his mouth. Madi stroked her tongue across Brett’s and when she did, she realized she’d started something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
The reserved Brett was gone and, in his place, a feral tiger prowled eager for his kill. Another deep growl hit his chest, and she felt it rumble as she gripped his shirt in her fist. His tongue moved rapidly across hers as he kissed her like a man starved. He stretched his body out atop her own, pressing her into the mattress of her twin bed. Another moan hit her lips as he captured the back of her head in his palm and his lips and tongue tortured hers in an erotic dance of liquid electricity that jolted through her veins relentlessly.
They were kissing—passionately, hungrily—and he was loving it as much as she was; she’d never been happier. He was insatiable as his tongue made love to hers. When she pulled back for a breath, she gasped as his hand grabbed for her breast and kneaded it with eager fingertips. Her body was on fire and she wanted to be engulfed by it, by him.
“Oh Brett,” she whimpered as his mouth took hers again. “Yes, baby, I want you. I want…” she trailed off as he pulled back suddenly and abruptly.
His eyes were sad, regretful, distant as he began to pull his body from her own. She gripped him, feeling bereft as he began to untangle her legs from his waist.
“Madi, no. Stop! We can’t do this right now.”
The crushing pain that ripped through her being threatened to destroy her as she swallowed down her disappointment. She’d been wrong about how he felt about her. He didn’t want her. Not like this. He was pushing her away. He was rejecting what she’d selflessly just offered up to him. He’d put her safely back into the friendzone, where she belonged. And her he
art completely shattered.
He seemed to sense it and asked, “Are you ok? Are you gonna be sick? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you, angel. I just—” he stopped talking and cupped her cheek. “I’ll go now. Get some sleep, ok?” He popped up off the bed quickly, adjusting himself and looking completely miserable.
As he left her on her bed still reeling, he took her last shred of hope with him.
That was eight years ago, and the pain of that rejection still swamped her.
“Madi,” Brett’s voice called to her and the light caress of his fingertips lit something back to life within her. How could his touch still do that to her? And with her being recently widowed? She felt guilty for it, didn’t understand it, didn’t understand her heart. Hadn’t she been hurt enough? Hadn’t she survived enough pain? Now her body had decided it wanted to go back down a road that’d been a dead end. She was angry all the sudden and didn’t know why or how to respond to these yearning feelings she was having—yet again—for her best friend of twenty years.
His stroking on her skin made her sex tingle, and she moaned aloud. He stopped and gaped at her. “Am I hurting you?” he asked, pulling his hand from her arm.
Oh, dear lord, I really am losing my mind. “Uh, um, no, I uh, I think I just…I must be sore from our workout earlier.”
Brett frowned, doubtfully. It hadn’t been a strenuous workout or one she wasn’t used to, but she played it off. She giggled even through a blush. “I guess I’m softer than I thought. A week in bed will do that, huh?” She shrugged.
“C’mon now, Wonder Woman. You got an image to uphold.” He winked and again she felt herself swooning internally. Holy shit, what’s wrong with me?
It could be that she missed being touched and held and kissed; having an attractive man around made her miss the physical side of Hunter. Or her feelings for Brett, the feelings she thought she’d tapped down years ago, were resurfacing. That thought scared her. She didn’t know if she could handle the rejection again. Her heart couldn’t take any more pain. So, don’t put yourself in a position to get hurt, her inner strength demanded.
FALSE START (Gods of the Gridiron Book 2) Page 6
