Rushed (The Rushed Series) (20 page)

Her eyes lit up and I thought,
Crap, she sees right through me.
It was part of what thrilled me about her. And part of what scared me shitless.

"He hits hard and likes to do a full-body slam," she said.

And linger way too long
, I thought. "Why the hell was he teaching the girls to tackle?"

"To scare the other team into thinking we're badass rule breakers who will crush their bones." She cocked her head. "You watched part of our practice."
 

It was like she was calling me out and looking for some kind of reaction from me.
 

"What do you think of our team's chances in the tournament?" she asked.

"QB2 has his work cut out for him." I turned back to the sink, rinsed the pan I'd been holding in my hand almost forgotten, and set it in the dish drainer.

She came up behind me and went on her toes to whisper in my ear. "Any tips for me?"

I felt her heat behind me and the brush of her breasts against my back, tempting me to do things I shouldn't. "Do you want to avoid Dakota?"
 

I was testing her, speaking in code because there was no way in hell I was coming directly out with my feelings.

"Naturally." Her words brushed my ears like a breath of a breeze.

They shouldn't have made me so damned happy. But the way she sounded, she knew what we were really talking about. "Dakota always hits with his right side to the player's left. Stay to the left of him and he won't be able to take you down."

She put her hands on my shoulders. "Anything else?"

"Dak is a player." And I meant that in every sense. "Not a coach." I stared into the window over the sink, watching her reflection as she peeked over my shoulder. "Coaches don't get down and dirty and tackle players."
 

When I looked over my shoulder at her, she grinned and gave me a seductive look that made my pulse beat even faster. "Not ever?"

"Why are you here?" I grabbed a dishtowel to dry my hands, turned to face her, and leaned back against the counter.

She looked up at me, completely guileless. "I'm parched."

I bet she was. I was, too.

"I need water." She reached around me and grabbed a glass from the cupboard next to the sink, brushing against me as she did. "
And
I was hoping to run into you. I could use your help getting ready for the tournament."

"You already have QB2's special attention. Why do you need me?"

"You just said he isn't a coach. I need real coaching."

I stared at her.

"
Please
, Zach. I'm team captain. I can't let the others down. You're one of us. You
have
to help me."

I dried my hands. I should have told her no flat out. But I couldn't. "You're cute when you beg."

"So you'll help?"

"Yeah. Sure. Anything for the house." And her. When it came to Alexis, I was a stupid fool.

"Thanks! You won't regret it. I'll work hard." She grabbed my damp hands, went up on her toes, and kissed my cheek. Her perfume filled my nose, and the heat of her nearness made me force myself to hold myself in check. Before I did something stupid, like kiss her back for real, the way I dreamed of doing.

She laughed and ran her hand down the inside of my forearm. "You missed some suds!" She wiped a blob of suds off my arm and trailed her fingers down it in a feather-light touch that made me shiver in the heat of her nearness. Then she blew the suds at me, sending tiny bubbles into the air as she laughed like a combination between a siren and a delighted child.

She caught my arm again as I blew the bubbles in the air back at her. She traced my tattoo with her thumb. "July fourteenth—"

I pulled my arm away. "It's just a date."

She frowned, looking almost hurt by my curtness. "And an angel?" She looked up at me with sympathy. "A cutesy, girlie angel, like for a little girl. That doesn't go with your image." She paused and whispered. "It’s more than just a date. Who died?"

I never talked about it. But something about Alexis made me want to share it with her. "My baby sister."

"Oh." Her eyes went wide. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "I'm sorry."

I nodded. "Me too. Her death blew our family apart. My parents couldn't handle it." I took a deep breath, trying not to sound as ragged as I felt. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"Because I asked. And sometimes it helps to talk."

The look of sympathy on her face was beautiful and genuine. "Yeah, I guess you're right." I grinned. "You did." I paused. "They divorced less than a year after she died." I had to swallow my grief. All these years later, survivor's guilt still gutted me.
 

"Oh," she said again.
 

This was where people always faltered. They never knew what to say. What else could she say? What could anyone say? Nothing took the pain away or changed what happened.

"I don't remember her," I said, surprising myself. I never admitted that to anyone, either. "Except from pictures. My only sister and I can't remember the sound of her voice or picture her face."

Alexis pulled me into a hug and pressed her head against my chest, not saying anything. I wrapped my arms around her and rested my chin on her head. Her hair was still damp in the braid and smelled fresh, like shampoo.

"What you're feeling is too complex for words," she said. "You need music. And its healing power." She paused. "Want to listen to some together? If you want to, only if you want to, you could share a song that makes you feel better. Or we could do our homework together?"

Right then, I knew I loved her. Crazy as that sounded. She was the first girl I'd met that really got it and me. She didn't try to get me to talk about it. She knew exactly what I needed.

"Sounds great to me." I took her hand. "My room? Seth's out until dawn or later. We won't be disturbed."

We held hands as we sneaked into the basement. I felt lighter just being with her. In my room, I pulled two beers out of our mini-fridge and tossed one to her.

She grinned as she caught it. "I thought this was an alcohol-free house."

I arched an eyebrow. "You're kidding, right? What kind of a stash do you have?"

She laughed.

"Seventies rock cries out for beer." I screwed the top off my bottle, brought up the playlist for class on my laptop, and ran it through my speakers.

Neither of us spoke as we sat on my bed, leaning against the wall, drinking and listening to seventies rock. I had two more beers to her one. Led Zeppelin's "Fool in the Rain" came up.

"We heard that the first day in class," she said.

We sat on my twin bed, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. Somehow moving closer with each song.

Her eyes sparkled. "My dad says this is late-seventies party music." She rested her chin on my shoulder.

"Too bad it's not make-out music," I said, teasing her, watching for some kind of green light from her as the buzz of alcohol tore down my defenses.

"Isn't that what they did at parties? The whole goal?" she whispered, smiling.

I set my beer on the nightstand, tipped her face up, and kissed her the way I'd been dreaming of since I'd met her—with the full force of my passion.

She slid into my lap. I lowered her onto the bed, kissing her neck and sliding my hands beneath her crop top. "You are so beautiful," I whispered as I kissed her neck and she ran her hands through my hair.

She didn't stop me when I caressed her breast. Or when I pulled her top off. Or unfastened her front-hook bra and it fell away, revealing perfect breasts, hard and excited for me.

I was in awe as I bent and sucked one. In awe that she let me touch her, that she wanted it. That a girl this perfect wanted me the way I wanted her. She gasped and pressed my head against her breast like she was afraid I would back off. I didn't have that much willpower.

No, I was the only fool around here, risking everything because I couldn't stay away from this girl.

I ran my hands down the flat planes of her stomach and the gentle curve of her hips. I slid them beneath the waistband of her sweatpants, beneath the thin, soft material of her panties into the heat between her legs.

I kissed her, ferociously, with the intensity of everything I felt as I rubbed the nub between her legs in a way that made her moan into my kiss.
 

I lost myself in her as she stroked my chest and unzipped my jeans. I was asking for trouble. Somewhere that voice in my head was warning me this could all be my undoing. But I didn't listen. I was too buzzed. Too horny. Too desperate for Alexis.

I was too selfish. I wanted once, at least once. When she grabbed my dick, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to hold on long enough.
 

She slid my jeans down. They got stuck at my feet. We laughed as I helped her slide them off. While I tossed them aside, she slid her sweatpants and panties off. "Let's do this, Zach. I want this."

We were both buzzed and high on music. It was such a bad idea.

She must have sensed my momentary hesitation. "It's okay. I'm on the pill."

I pulled a condom from my nightstand drawer, slid it on my dick, and perched over her as she leaned up and looked me in the eye.
 

"Stop teasing. I'm ready." She positioned me near her opening and wrapped her legs around me, ready to drive me in.

I saved her the trouble and drove into her, deeper and deeper with each soft moan that escaped her lips. Again and again as the pleasure built. Trying to hold on as long as I could. Waiting for her to join me at the moment of climax. It was important that I satisfied her.
 

It also was inevitable I would meet a girl like her—one whose mind and body defeated my defenses and tore down the wall I'd built to keep people away from who I really was. It wasn't fair to her to go this far without telling her the truth about me. How messed up and unlovable I was. But I didn't have enough willpower to stop.

She gasped and cried out. And I let go, let the waves of pleasure crash, and crushed her to me as I came and came and came with an intensity that took my breath away.

When it was over, I was breathing hard and she was smiling up at me with her eyes shining.
 

"I love you," I said, unable to stop myself. Like she would believe me after what we'd just done. Like she wouldn't think I was just saying it because it was the thing to do.

Yeah, this was the storm and it was lighting up not just the love I felt, but the danger that it would blow apart my whole life. I was the fool in the corner, the guy who would stand in the rain and let the warmth of her smile scorch me.

"I love you, too." Her eyes were alive with it.

My heart soared, beating for her. I pulled out, slid the condom off, and tossed it away before pulling my jeans up. I handed her her sweatpants and panties. "There's something I want you to hear."

My hands shook as I found the music I was looking for. "This is what saved my life." I grabbed my shirt and pulled it over my head, catching the wide-eyed look on her face.
 

She hooked her bra, pulled her top on, and sat up, listening with a rapt look on her face. I sat next to her. She took my hand in hers, lacing our fingers together.

My heart beat so loudly that I could barely hear the music over it. When the song ended, she turned to me with a look of shock and sympathy so fierce I knew she understood.

"That day in the woods?" Her voice was soft as she squeezed my hand. "You didn't tell me you had a gun."

I squeezed her hand in return. "I had the pistol to my head, a .357, ready to pull the trigger. But the song wasn't playing just then."
 

This was the part that was hard to explain and made me sound crazy. "I was just about to pull the trigger when I heard a voice. It wasn't spoken. It just was. It said, 'Hang in there. Two more years and you're free.'

"As I lowered the gun, the rabbit jumped out of the woods. I pointed my pistol at the bunny, but it wasn't afraid. It stared back at me."