Third Strike

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Third Strike Page 6

by BJ Harvey

“Drew Peters, do you need me?”

  I take a moment, my thoughts racing, my head totally not in the game. The only thing I am seeing clearly is her. Everything about us screams complication, but the minute I shut the door after meeting my father, there was only one person I wanted, and it wasn’t Millen.

  It was Ash.

  Since that first kiss, it’s only been, Ash

  “I think I’ve always needed you.”

  “Then text me your address, and I’ll see you soon. And Drew?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be prepared to talk.”

  A little more than two hours later, Ash’s red Honda Civic pulls into my driveway. She turns the car off and opens the door, giving me no time to brace myself as she hops out and does a running jump into my arms. She buries her face in my neck, and I hold on tight, my chest constricting at finally having her back in my arms.

  She’s wearing a grey Harvard hoodie with jeans that could be painted on. Her golden hair is tied up on top of her head, vanilla and coconut filling my senses.

  “Miss me?” she whispers into my neck. She smells and feels like home—like mine.

  I lower my mouth to her ear. “You have no fucking idea, Ash.”

  Loosening my hold, I carefully lower her to her feet, my hands framing her hips as I stare down at her in wonder. She’s here because I asked her to be—because I needed her to be—and it means more than I can say. This is all kinds of wrong, but she’s here, and that’s all that matters to me right now.

  Her pink-tinged lips curve up into a wry smile. “As much as I like your front yard, do you think we could go inside?”

  “What if I want to just stay right here?” I reply. The freedom of being with her right now is exhilarating. No stolen kisses, no locked doors. No secrets. It’s just Ash and me.

  “Fine by me,” she says with a shrug, her smile getting wider.

  I grin back, my hand slipping down her arm to tangle my fingers with hers. “Let’s get your bag, and I’ll give you a tour.”

  “Does the tour include a drink? Because I’m parched.”

  I quirk a brow and let her go. “It can do.”

  “And the bedroom?” she asks, waggling her eyebrows.

  Shaking my head, I can’t help but laugh. “You know we can’t share a bed, right? Your brother would kill me. . .slowly. . .”

  Her eyes widen, but her lips curve up again as she lifts her hand to my face and taps my cheek. “Hold up, cowboy. I didn’t say I wanted to see your bedroom…” She let me go and walks ahead, swinging her hips as she takes the three steps up onto my porch and goes straight through the front door like she owns the place, “… even though we both know I will… and stop checking out my ass. If we’re not going to be bed buddies, you don’t get to look.”

  Following her inside, there’s only one thing on my mind. “Do I get to touch?”

  She spins around and walks backward into my living room, her smile so wide and bright it could light up the darkest of rooms, sweep away the blackest of moods. “That’s for me to know and you to find out. Now, why don’t you get us both a beer, and then I can start doing what I came here to do.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “To find out what’s wrong and fix it. Whatever it is, however long it takes. I’m in this for the long haul.”

  “How did I get so lucky?” I say, not hiding the awe in my voice. I still can’t believe she dropped everything and drove out to see me.

  She shrugs, handing me a beer from the coffee table and grabbing her own before sitting down on the couch. She may be eighteen, but I know for a fact she’s been drinking here and there since she was sixteen. “You’re my person. I want to show you that I’m yours. I knew you needed space after the shower incident…” she says, her fingers bending to make air quotes. “But I knew I’d hear from you again. Whatever this is between us isn’t something you just walk away from. Well, I don’t anyway.”

  Yet again, Ash proves she’s got her head screwed on straight, whereas my life just got hit with a curveball. I’ve got a best friend with no clue I’m falling for his sister and a father who never knew I existed now turning up on my doorstep on Christmas night asking to talk.

  I take a seat beside her, the invisible string between us pulling me closer.

  “Start talking, Drew,” she says, diving right on in there without preamble. Then again, if I’ve learned anything about Ash this year, it’s that she’s not afraid to tackle things—i.e., me—head on.

  I look at the ground and rub the back of my neck. “Where do you want me to start?”

  “What happened tonight?”

  I swallow hard, the four beers I’ve downed muddling my already scrambled brain. What did happen? “My father turned up at my door.”

  Her eyes widen, and her breath catches. “What…? I don’t understand. Didn’t you say you didn’t know who your father was?”

  “I’ve never met him before. Mom never told me anything about him. All I knew was that I didn’t have one. Turns out he’s known about me for a few years.”

  I expect pity, but all I see in her gaze is understanding. How did I think I could stay away from her, let alone try and forget about her?

  She moves beside me, her hand going to my leg. “Why now?”

  “Mom sent him a letter when she knew she was on borrowed time.” I place my hand on hers, needing her warmth and reassuring touch to seep through me. “He wants to talk. Explain a few things. Get to know me. That kind of thing.”

  She leans in, sliding her palm against my cheek and pressing until our eyes lock. “And what do you want, Drew?”

  I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and consider her words. What do I want? “I think I should hear him out… I mean, I think I need to.”

  Her gaze roams my face as if to look for any sign of uncertainty.

  She nods and leans in so we’re nose to nose, her hand still cradling my jaw. “And if you want someone there with you—if you want me to be there with you—say the word, and it’s a done deal.”

  Pulling back, I meet her eyes. “You don’t—”

  She silences me with her mouth, her lips parting against mine, her tongue delving inside like it’s coming home. Gone is the girl who was uncertain and timid for our first kiss. This is a woman who knows what she wants and what she likes, and she’s going after it.

  I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my lap, taking control of the kiss and relishing in the way she calms me at the same time as amping me up. I ease back, letting her gently move so her forehead is against mine

  “That was nice.” Her low rasp is full of want and need, laced with everything I wish I had in me to take, filled with promises I wish I could keep.

  “That’s as nice as it can get right now, Ash,” I reply roughly.

  “Explains the radio silence.” She sighs. “I get it. I may not like it, but I understand.” She sits up and leans back, running her fingers over my shoulders to rest on either side of my neck. “What do you want this to be, Drew?”

  I open my mouth but stop, remembering what I said to her months ago. I will always be honest, even if I know you won’t like what I’m being honest about.

  I glide my hand up and down her back, loving the way her tense muscles ease under my touch. Sapphire eyes filled with hope and tinged with vulnerability bore into me, and I realize this is it: a conversation that could set the stage for the direction of my life. Option A: End it now, explain how we can’t be anything more than friends, and that anything more can never happen. Option B…

  Fuck, who am I kidding, I passed any chance of option A the night I first kissed her. I blew it out of the water the moment I let her wrap her smooth, soft hand around my cock in the shower. I think there was never a chance of anything other than the complicated going-to-fuck-up-my-friendship-and-screw-with-my-head-and-forever-change-my-life choice.

  It’s come down to a decision I’ve already made. Albeit a naïve just-one-kiss-won’t-hurt one.


  “We said we’d be honest, right?”

  “Always.”

  Taking a deep breath, I speak the truth, the feelings I’ve been contemplating and working my way through since Thanksgiving. “I’m falling for you, Ash, but I don’t know that this will work. If it even could…”

  “I like you too. You make me feel different, wanted, special. We talk about everything, you get me, and I get you, and not once have you ever treated me like I’m just another notch on your belt.”

  My grip on her hips tightens, my fingers biting into her skin. “You’ve never been anything less than extraordinary to me.”

  “Then let’s just be. No pressure. No strings. No responsibilities, except for always being honest. I want you, but right now, we’re living on opposite sides of the country, and we’re at completely different stages of our lives. I’m a freshman; you’re a junior. You’re working toward your career; I’m just starting to figure out what I want to do.”

  “What do we do then?” I ask, earning an easy grin, her eyes glittering in the soft light. How did I ever think I could resist this woman?

  “Well…” She tangles her fingers up into my hair, giving the strands a gentle tug. “Until such time as we decide whatever this is between us and what we want it to be…” She leaves that hanging, the giant fucking elephant named Millen sitting in the corner of the room and saying it all. “But if you need me, I’m there. If I need you, vice versa. If we need each other…”

  I flip her over and press her back into the couch, my body covering hers from head to toe as I crash my mouth down onto hers and waste no time in showing my appreciation. For being here. For being her.

  Two days later in a franchise coffee shop a few blocks away, Ash is at my side as I meet my father for the second time. She holds my hand and squeezes my fingers tight when he tells me he’s married with two children—I have two older half-brothers, Grant and Anthony—that he wants me to meet. I then discover the reason why he was never around, the reason why my mom never talked about him, and the reason why he waited so damn long to knock on my door. You see, Mom was Jon’s secretary. They worked closely together… very closely, it seems, and when things turned physical, Mom became Jon’s little secret. When she fell pregnant with me, I became an even bigger one because when she issued Jon an ultimatum to choose her or his wife and kids, Jon chose them. So Mom never told him about me, not until he received a letter from her lawyer having been instructed to do so in the event of her death.

  Mom was a planner, always was, and it seems she thought Jon had a right to know he had another son, and he felt it was only right to let me know that I had a father who wanted to get to know me.

  Without Ashley there with me, I’m not sure how I would’ve taken all of this news, and even when we’d left Jon with a handshake and a promise to call when I’d had a chance to process everything, I was still walking around in a daze.

  As if she knew exactly what to do—what I needed—Ash didn’t pry or interrogate. She didn’t demand answers or press me into sharing my thoughts and feelings on the issue. She just made us lunch, grabbed some snacks, set up our blankets and pillows on the sofa, and together we watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy back-to-back.

  With her lying in my arms, her smell all around me, her body pressing into mine, I know that there is nothing in my power I won’t do for her, that whenever it happens, I’ll be her first and she’ll be my last.

  And whatever sacrifice I have to make along the way will always be worth it if she is my reward at the end.

  Drew, 21, Ashley 18

  Ever since our week together and New Year’s, things have been different: better, clearer, stronger. It’s as if our talk solidified everything.

  Do I know that what I’m doing is wrong? Of course.

  Can I resist her? I don’t think so.

  Do I want her more than anyone else I’ve ever met? Absolutely.

  Am I ready to admit this to anyone other than the woman herself? No fucking way.

  She walks through the casino bar toward our group, and it’s clear to everyone in the room that this woman knows what she’s doing. She’s in control of her body and knows how to use it to get the attention of every red-blooded heterosexual man in the vicinity.

  She’s not Millen’s baby sister anymore—not to me, not to any of us.

  Just her presence is doing a number on me. Her dress is red and damn near perfect, turning me on like she no doubt intended. For weeks she’s been teasing me with emails, messages, and little sneaky photos. The way she’s holding herself tonight, her smile, her curves, her infectious charm working its magic on all of us, is sure to be my undoing. She’s mine, dammit, and I’m going to be the one who corrupts her. The knot in my gut tightens as my heart rate speeds up. I glance toward Millen to see his hands and mouth otherwise engaged with a petite blonde of his own. Why am I relieved that he’s distracted?

  This is madness. Absolute, total insanity.

  I know how this night is going to end. I know where I’ll be and who will be naked beneath me. I know that my twenty-first birthday will forever go down as the night I shook destiny’s hand. There’s no way I can resist her when she’s looking at me like that. As much as she tries to hide it, there’s no mistaking the lust and need and want in her eyes.

  It was all but set in stone when Millen told me Ashley and her friend Lucy were meeting us in Vegas for our much-anticipated birthday blowout, then a text last night from Ash told me Lucy couldn’t make it and she’d have a suite all to herself. The invitation was clear as day.

  The anticipation of being her first, of being the only man to ever touch her and be inside her, is almost too much to bear. Not a caveman ‘claiming’ mentality, it’s knowing she wants it to be me. She waited for the right person, and she chose me.

  “Hey, Drew,” she says, closing the distance between us, wrapping her arms around me, and tucking her face into my neck. “God, you smell good.” It’s barely a whisper, but it does unseemly things to my body.

  “You have no idea how hot you look.”

  She pulls back and smirks. “I have an inkling, but I love that you noticed.”

  My eyes flash, and I sneak a look from her head to her toes and back again. “I’ll always notice you, Ash. It’s impossible not to.”

  The pink flush of her cheeks is gratifying and thankfully—for me anyway—she turns away to say hi to the rest of our group: Jared from college, and James and Benny from Millen’s high school days. We’re four guys, hitting the clubs. The Strip is our oyster.

  Millen—apparently finished devouring the blonde pocket rocket cuddled into his side—comes up beside me, swinging his arm around my shoulders and giving me a bump along the way.

  “We ready to get this party started?” He’s bright-eyed and definitely well on his way to having a good night. I hate that I like that for all the wrong reasons. If he’s drunk and happy, he’ll be distracted, and that means more chances for me to break away from the group and get Ashley alone.

  I’m a terrible person

  A terrible friend

  A terrible excuse for a man

  Yet all I can think about is Ashley. Naked. Giving me her virginity. Just the thought has me getting hard. Fuck, I’ve been halfway there since Ashley walked into the bar.

  All I need to do is get through the next few hours unscathed and focus on the reason we’re here. Ash and I have time. The anticipation will be worth it in the end.

  Three hours later, I’m nursing a lime soda and watching Ash dance with the guys from our group in front of our VIP booth at the high-end club in our hotel. Millen’s beside me, drink in hand, looking out across the room.

  “I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else, Drew. It’s like I went to Texas to get away from all the pressure and met the brother I needed in my life.”

  I turn his way, giving him a shoulder bump. “God you’re a sappy drunk,” I say with a laugh. He looks at me, and there’s no ounce of humor in his ex
pression.

  “I am, but I’m also telling the truth. You had no one, and I’m glad I was able to give you my family. I know your dad has come back and you’re both still working through that, but you’d never do anything against me. You’ll always have my back, and I hope you know I’ll always have yours.”

  I’m a terrible, terrible person.

  Shaking my head, I force a smile. “I know you will. But how about a little less emo and a little more party? That blonde of yours is looking at you like you’re a lollipop she wants to suck.”

  “It’s not my lollipop she wants to suck,” he retorts, and we both burst out laughing. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Ashley looking our way, a lascivious smirk turning her lips and sending a jolt right down my spine to the base of my cock.

  I lift my drink to my mouth, wishing it was alcoholic to give me a much-needed confidence boost. I stopped drinking an hour ago and switched to water, wanting to keep my wits about me. “So, it’s safe to say I need to find new accommodation tonight?”

  Millen’s smile is huge as he crooks his finger at the blonde bombshell who’s had his attention most of the night. “Just tell them to add a room to my tab. I’ll thank you later.”

  I hold my drink out to tap with his. “I think she’ll be the one thanking you later.”

  “I think you may be right about that. Happy fucking birthday to us!”

  An hour later, I manage to corner Ash alone in a dark alcove at the back of the club, the shadows giving us the privacy I’ve been craving all night.

  “Watching you dance in that dress…” I slide my hand up her thigh, skimming the slinky material and dragging it up as I go, “… it’s fucking torture.” I groan, burying my face in her neck and trailing kisses down to her collarbone.

  Her hands roam my back, her nails scraping my skin through my shirt. “You don’t think I’m suffering here too?” she whispers. She lifts her head to press her lips to my temple. “Being able to look but not touch…” Lifting her leg, she glides it up and around, pressing her heel into my ass and holding me hard against her. This is dangerous. Anybody we know could see us, but the three vodkas I’ve had tonight have me set at a warm buzz that’s only getting hotter now that I’m touching her. Is it the thrill of knowing we could get caught? Is it lust driving me to be reckless?

 

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