Harlequin E New Adult Romance Box Set Volume 1: Burning Moon\Girls' Guide to Getting It Together\Rookie in Love (47 page)

I slide into the hot water and allow my thoughts to float back to last night and the heat from Jackson’s body against mine. I feel myself becoming aroused with the thought of his warm, rough skin trailing up my thigh and beneath my skirt. My body aches as I remember the low, husky voice that whispered in my ear, causing goose bumps to pebble my skin. He worried that I would regret it this morning, and in part he was correct. My regret is that I have now had a taste of what wanting—no, needing—a man can be like, and I fear I will never get to experience that again.

After a long bath I swallow some ibuprofen and throw on a pair of my favorite Hudson jeans and a snug vintage T-shirt. I am meeting Abby at the coffee shop on campus to catch up on what happened with her and her boyfriend after they left the bar. Abby has been dating Kyle for three years now, and while they seem joined at the hip, they both plan to move back home when they graduate. That wouldn’t be a problem if she weren’t from California and he from Florida. These next few months have heartbreak written all over them.

The small coffee shop is crowded with students spending Sunday studying for finals while keeping a steady supply of caffeine within reach. I see Abby in the corner and I’m grateful she has managed to snag us a booth. I wave to let her know I see her as I make my way to the line that now stretches to the door. I wince at the thought of food and ignore the pastries, deciding that coffee will have to do until my stomach recovers from being bathed in cheap champagne.

More and more students enter the shop and the line condenses to allow them access. It is heating up quickly in here and I roll my hair into a tight twist and hold it off of my neck. I blow out a breath aimed at my forehead in the hopes of lowering my temperature a tad.

“How’s that ankle, Rookie?” My eyes close as the vibration of his voice permeates every one of my cells. My traitorous body tips my head to the side as if to offer my neck up to the source of that low, commanding voice. A quick movement in the line as a student enters the coffee shop causes our bodies to collide like dominoes as the line absorbs the new patron.

“I’ve got you,” Jackson whispers as he pulls back on my hips to dislodge me from the person in front of me.

“My hero,” I say, batting my eyelashes in his direction, and we both laugh as our familiar story unfolds again. “My ankle is well taken care of, Jackson. Thanks for calling in that favor for me. How was practice?” My heart is pounding in my chest, and I hope that he takes the flush on my cheeks as a simple matter of the temperature in this shop, rather than my out-of-control reaction to him.

“Not a problem. I would, however, like to point out that in the world of favors you are now in debt to me.” He grins at me and then puts his hands on my shoulders to steer me forward as our line moves up infinitesimally. “I’m sure some sort of arrangement can be worked out.”

“Surely,” I reply sarcastically, even though the thought of working anything out with him causes fire to race through me.

“Practice was good. We watched some films of the team we’re playing this weekend. We have a great team this year. Have you ever been to a game?”

“No, I don’t really have much free time. Isn’t the season almost over?” We move up again, slowly inching to the front of the line.

“We have a few more games before the end of the season. This week we are going to kill our opponents but we’ll play it safe so that we don’t have any injured players when we take on State at the end of the season. Please tell me you have at least attended a pep rally on the practice field.” More movement from the people in line behind us causes Jackson to press up against me and I can feel his hard muscles connecting with my back. I should shy away from this contact but instead I lean into it, allowing the front of his body to mold with mine. My arms are growing tired from holding my hair off of my neck so I let it fall across my shoulders and I shake my arms out.

“Never been to one. My social calendar is a bitch. I imagine I am missing out on bouncing cheerleaders and shouting football players?” I’m teasing him and I turn my head to meet his gaze with a small smile. He quickly looks away when I catch him staring at me. We both shoot our gazes to the front of the shop and pretend to read the menu. I look over to see if Abby is paying attention, but she is staring at her phone.

“Last night was amazing, Rookie. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left,” he whispers in my ear, just as the overwhelmed girl working at the counter calls me up to order. I freeze for a minute, dazed by his confession and unable to gather my thoughts. Words fall from my mouth and I hope I am speaking coherently, because I feel like I am swimming in warmth and about to pass out from the hammering in my chest.

I move over to the corner to wait for my order and pretend to be interested in the nutritional content of the food items. I reach out to take my coffee but Jackson scoops it up first. “I can see you’re still nursing that ankle, Rookie, I’ll carry it over to your table so you don’t spill it all over yourself.” I nod my head in thanks and remain speechless as he places his hand on my lower back on the way to the booth where Abby is sitting. Her jaw nearly hits the floor when she sees Jackson. She manages to snap out of it and shut her mouth right before I take my seat in the booth next to her.

“Abby, this is Jackson. Jackson, this is my roommate, Abby.” Jackson sets down my coffee and shakes her hand. She stares at him over her bagel. I give her a small kick under the table and she turns to me, then seems to shake it off and looks back to Jackson with a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Jackson. You’re having a great season this year.” Of course Abby knows him; I am probably the only person on campus who hasn’t seen a game.

“Thank you, Abby. Take good care of my Rookie here.” The barista calls his name over the crowd. “Sounds like my order is ready. It was great meeting you. Maddy, it’s always a pleasure.” Jackson turns and makes a grand exit, only it isn’t like in the fairy tales or the movies, because as he leaves he grabs the two cups of coffee awaiting him on the counter. Not one cup for him to drink alone—two cups: one for Prince Charming and the other for his Cinderella. For the briefest of moments before Abby returns my earlier kick under the table, I want to be his Cinderella.

“Spill it. Don’t try to tell me that was your first meeting.” Abby is staring into my eyes as she turns her whole body to face mine. “Damn, Madeline, three years of watching you sit by as life flew past and all along you’ve had a little bit of bad girl in there. Let her out—I want to meet her.”

“It’s nothing. I ran into him last night on my way home. He climbed my trellis and we watched the stars.”

“Please tell me that is a euphemism.” We break down into fits of giggles, attracting looks from the other customers.

“No! God, Abby, I have a boyfriend.” I cover my face with both hands and try to figure out who needs to be reminded of that fact: her or me.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Greg. That boy should have climbed your trellis months ago. Whatever you’re thinking, sweetheart, please do it. Don’t let your sense of duty to your family stop you from having a little fun.”

“Enough about me; how did last night go? Did you guys get any closer to a compromise?” My heart hurts for her and Kyle. I feel guilty that a little part of me wishes Greg and I came from different states, that I didn’t have to be committed to him because everyone would understand we both had other commitments to our families that would have to come over our own relationship. We don’t; we literally live five miles from each other. Abby starts to catch me up on their never-ending debate and I can’t keep my gaze from drifting toward the front window of the shop.

Jackson is outside, talking to another man that looks about his age. Abby’s voice fades as I watch his every movement: the way his bicep flexes as he holds up the coffee; the beautiful way he smiles as he talks and the way his eyes move in my direction. I’m totally caught. Jackson’s eyes meet mine and he grins. I quickly bring my focus back to Abby, but she has apparently stopped talking to watch me watch Jackson.

“Sorry,” I offer, and take a sip of my coffee.

“Madeline, why did he call you ‘Rookie?’” I follow her line of vision back to Jackson.

“I was using my skills to launch my belongings onto the roof.” We are both staring at him now but he is looking only at me.

“Shit. I knew it: you were wasted, weren’t you? I told Kyle we needed to make sure you got home okay.”

“I wasn’t that drunk, Abby, at least not on alcohol. I had freedom. I was out from the watchful eyes of my brothers and I wanted to have a little fun. You guys aren’t my babysitters and while I appreciate you worrying about me, trust me when I say that my family has that covered.” Jackson climbs into his truck and leaves the parking lot. I want to run outside and scream for him to stop, to experience what it feels like to be free and sharing the same air as him.

“Your father can’t keep you locked up forever. Promise me you’ll follow your heart, Madeline.”

“Right now my heart is showing no loyalty to the king, my friend, and that could be very dangerous.” The image of my father as an absolute ruler is not a far stretch. His word is law in both his multi-million dollar hotel business and in his family, and while he is devoted to both, he has little tolerance for dissent. Not for the first time, I wonder what he was like when my mother was still alive. Abby and I finish our coffees and make our way back to the apartment. We both have tests tomorrow and I need to get a nap in before I get lost in my dry textbook.

Chapter Three

It has been four days since I’ve seen Jackson, not that I’m counting. Okay, I’m counting. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. I feel like a junkie looking for my next fix. I know I can’t have him since we are both in relationships with other people, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to be near him. I am trying so hard to focus on the task at hand, which is getting ready to leave my apartment on time, but I can’t seem to keep my thoughts straight as I rush around my room.

Greg is taking me out to dinner tonight so I am wearing a conservative dress and my soft ballet flats. My hair is twisted up into a bun and to complete the proper-lady look I am wearing a string of pearls. If he had any bad boy in him he would find out that under the proper-lady dress I am anything but a proper lady. I may be inexperienced in many things, but I have a great collection of sexy panties and bras. It is one of the few areas of my life where I am not under my family’s scrutiny; I learned very young that the males in my life would not dare step into a lingerie store with me.

Greg is an amazing guy with a bright future, but sometimes he feels like another item on the list of life choices my family has made for me. My brother Ben introduced us, and while I didn’t feel any particular spark, I saw no reason not to give this charming, clean-cut, respectful man a chance, especially when Ben pointed out how much our mother would have loved him.

I can’t help but to acknowledge that love has grown between Greg and me in the last year we have spent together playing the role of courting young adults on the verge of betrothal. Greg respects me and knows me, has cared for me when I was sick and is truly invested in my future. We are great friends and before I met Jackson, I thought that was enough. Now that I have felt that spark of desire, I am more aware than ever that there is a wall between Greg and me when it comes to physical connection. I just wish I knew whether that wall is indicative of my feelings for Greg, or whether it is caused by my resistance to being controlled by my family.

I spray on a touch of perfume and stand back to look in the mirror. I wonder what Jackson would think if he saw me like this. I don’t even look my age, more like a thirty year-old mom who spends her days working in a church office. I am beige and taupe and multiple shades of neutral. I hear the knock at the door and then Abby’s voice as she invites Greg in to wait for me. She always tells him I’m in my room down the hall if he would like to go find me, and he always declines and waits for me in the shared living room.

I grab my small clutch and take one last look in the mirror before making my way down the hall. When Abby sees me she scrunches up her nose in a look that says, “blah,” before sitting down on the couch and grabbing the remote. Greg is a gentleman as always and stands as I enter the room. He is not quite as tall as Jackson but he is in great shape. His blond hair is kept short for business and he is wearing a sleek button-up shirt and a pair of slacks. His green eyes meet mine as I walk toward him and a smile lights up his face. I will never understand how any man could be excited about his girlfriend being so G-rated. This image of me fits perfectly into his happy-ever-after. It breaks my heart to think that becoming his happy-ever-after will end any chances of mine coming true.

* * *

Greg is animated over dinner as he talks about his experience at my dad’s office. He is passionate about the hotel business and is working hard to make a name for himself. I know my father loves him and that part of our relationship feels right to me. When Greg revisits his three-year plan, though, and talk turns to marriage, kids and buying a house, I start to feel dizzy and sick. I take long breaths through my nose and tell myself to relax, that I still have a few months of my own life before we start our life together. With the building anxiety I also feel guilt. Greg is an amazing guy who deserves to have a woman who is madly in love with him and would live to make him happy. I wonder if I will ever be that woman.

Greg puts his hand on top of mine and I look up into his eyes. “Madeline, are you okay, baby?” His thumb rubs circles across my skin and I try to calm my racing heart. This is when I could say no, be honest that I am not sure if I am ready for his three-year plan. But then what would happen? Would I lose him altogether? I don’t know if I’m ready for that, either.

“I’m worried about you,” Greg continues. “I think you took on too much this semester. It will be worth it, though, if you can stick it out. In just a few months we can put college behind us and move on to the next chapter.”