DRIVE

JACOB CHANCE

Copyright © 2017 Jacob Chance

All rights reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This novel is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to people either living or deceased, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are only used for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

Cover design by PopKitty Designs

Edited by Vivian Freeman

Proofreading by Hawkeyes Proofing

This book contains mature content.

DEDICATION

About six weeks ago I read a book I had been seeing all over Facebook. The writing was so impressive, the imagery so vivid, I couldn’t help but be inspired from reading it. I immediately messaged two of my author friends and told them they had to read this book and that some day I wanted to be able to write something that amazing.

In the meantime, I went into my DRIVE doc and began to edit parts where I could paint clearer visuals with my words, and I focused on using figurative literature to support those visuals. I also added more dialogue than I ever had before and the end result is something I’m extremely proud of.

Kate Stewart, thank you for writing Drive (great name by the way) and for being such a huge source of inspiration for me. There are so many incredible quotes in your book, but my favorite one has to be - “You have to wait one minute past desperation.”

CONTENTS

Prologue

1. Chapter One

2. Chapter Two

3. Chapter Three

4. Chapter Four

5. Chapter Five

6. Chapter Six

7. Chapter Seven

8. Chapter Eight

9. Chapter Nine

10. Chapter Ten

11. Chapter Eleven

12. Chapter Twelve

13. Chapter Thirteen

14. Chapter Fourteen

15. Chapter Fifteen

16. Chapter Sixteen

17. Chapter Seventeen

18. Chapter Eighteen

19. Chapter Nineteen

20. Chapter Twenty

21. Chapter Twenty-One

22. Chapter Twenty-Two

23. Chapter Twenty-Three

24. Chapter Twenty-Four

25. Chapter Twenty-Five

26. Chapter Twenty-Six

27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Epilogue

About the Author

Afterword

PUNCHED

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Acknowledgments

PROLOGUE

Carter

JANUARY - FOUR MONTHS AGO

THE HAPPINESS RADIATING out of every single pore of my sister Reagan is a welcome change. I always knew she and her fiancé Noah were meant for each other, it just took them four years to find their way back together.

However, sometimes things don’t work out so well. Fate has a way of crashing through the door uninvited and destroying our plans for the future. I should know. I’m well versed when it comes to fate’s assholish qualities. How else can I explain the guy I’ve been in love with for the past three years sleeping with a close friend of mine. She’s an ex-friend now, but it doesn’t change the fact that she ended up exactly where I imagined I would - as Mrs. Joseph Baldwin. One drunken hook up between them and she’s two months pregnant with his son.

They’ve been married for two weeks and twelve hours, now. I only know, because I can’t seem to fucking forget.

How do you let go of the exact date that your life was over as you knew it?

Once they said their I do’s it was the final gasp of our relationship. We’re dead and things will never be the way they used to.

If only I could bury us.

I know; I deserve better. He’s a lying, cheating dick who wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit him in the ass. He gave me up after all and I pride myself on being the best person I can be. If you Google ‘good girl,’ I’m pretty sure my picture is the first thing that comes up.

Glancing down, I run my hand over the soft material of the pale pink dress I’m wearing. Even the clothes I choose are appropriate. Pink and pearls are two of my favorite things, at least that’s what everyone thinks, and I’ve never done anything to correct their faulty assumptions. How could I when ninety-nine percent of the time I’m wearing both?

What they don’t know, what I won’t even admit to myself is that I’m sick of my good girl image. At this point it’s starting to feel like a persona I’ve adopted to make everyone like me - everyone except me. I can’t stand this sickeningly sweet pink person I’ve become.

Shaking my head, I gulp down some more of the champagne Noah supplied for their surprise engagement party. He asked my sister Reagan to marry him earlier tonight and had us all waiting here to celebrate with them. The two of them haven’t stopped smiling since they arrived. That’s the way love’s supposed to make you feel. It shouldn’t change you for the worse or turn you into a meek bobblehead who only knows how to nod their head in agreement.

When did I become a doormat that Joseph wiped his feet on - and a pink one at that?

It may have started with him, but it’s spilled over into the rest of my life and now I’m the ultimate people pleaser. I please everyone except myself.

It’s exhausting.

I’m tired of being me. I want to be brash and bold, two things I forgot how to be when I met Joseph my senior year of college. Instead, I let him mold me into the perfect little accessory on his arm - the perfect aspiring politician’s wife.

And when push came to shove he ended up sleeping with my friend who’s the exact opposite. She has a list of ex-lovers a mile long and she never wears pink or pearls.

How’s that for irony?

Drinking back the rest of the champagne, I frown at my empty glass. Guess I need a refill. Each one goes down smoother than the last and makes me feel a little better.

“Would you like another?” A deep voice to my left asks as a large tan masculine hand appears in front of me. My head spins around to see who’s speaking and I unsteadily brace myself against the wall behind me. The champagne is affecting my balance or maybe it’s the sight of this stranger’s devastatingly handsome face.

He flashes me a quick grin showing straight white teeth that can only be achieved with braces and a possible dimple in his left cheek. “Would you like some more champagne?” he offers again, holding the glass up in front of me.

My father always told me not to accept drinks from strangers, but there’s something kind about his hazel eyes that has me curling my hand around the thin glass. Our fingers brush when he pulls his hand away. His skin so warm to the touch, shoots a mad flurry of excitement from my stomach to my chest like fireworks being set off in a cloudless night sky.

My eyes sweep up his tall stature, connecting with his. Heated interest flickers in the hazel depths before they lazily glide down to linger on my mouth. Licking my suddenly dry lips, I watch as he continues to study every inch of my face.

What is he thinking?

A heated flush washes over me and I let my gaze wander down to his mouth. His lips are masculine, the bottom one fuller than the top. I wonder what it would be like to kiss him. I’ve never kissed a complete stranger before.

He holds his hand out in front of me. “I’m N…”

“Don’t tell me your name,” I quickly interrupt.

He quirks an eyebrow. “You don’t want to know my name?”

“No.” I grab his large hand. “Come with me,” I order, moving purposefully toward the exit of the room.

“Okay, you don’t need to ask me twice. Do I get to know your name?” he questions.

“Nope, no names; no details at all.” I set the glass down on a table we pass by.

“I’m all for a little mystery. I’ll even volunteer my body up for your exploration in the name of chemistry. It’s always been my favorite subject.” I can hear the teasing in his tone. I’m glad he’s being a good sport about me whisking him away. To say this is out of character for me is a gross trivialization, but what the hell? I deserve some fun.

Glancing back as we exit the room, I don’t notice anyone looking our way. Good. I don’t want witnesses. I pause to get my bearings and figure out where I should bring him.

“Where are we going and what are you planning to do to me?” His voice is deep and husky with a hint of laughter next to my ear as he leans down. When I turn my face, our lips are only inches apart. They’re close enough to feel his warm exhales and smell the mint on his breath.

Fuck it.

I grip his head and smash our mouths together. He lets out a deep hum of surprise when our teeth clash, but recovers quickly. His hands slide into my hair as he takes over, controlling the kiss. His tongue lashes against mine conjuring up images of us naked in bed, his cock thrusting inside me.

Oh god.

I’ve never been overcome by such a need to kiss someone before. This desire is uncontrollable and it’s impossible to restrain myself. Now that I have his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, I know I’ve never experienced anything that can compare.

I want more.

Shamelessly, I rub my breasts against his chest. The thin material of his buttoned shirt doesn’t disguise the rock-hard surface beneath. My hands slide up to explore his thick biceps, nails dig into wide shoulders.

Gripping under my ass, he raises me. Wrapping my legs around lean hips, he groans into my mouth, and presses my back into the cold wall behind me.

We’re in the brightly lit hallway where anyone could witness us grinding against each other, but this kiss is so consuming, I can’t be bothered to care. All I can think of is how incredible his hard cock feels pressing against my clit and how I never want this kiss to end.

His lips leave mine to slide a wet path down my neck as he gently bites the delicate skin below my ear. “Can I know your name, now?” he asks huskily, thrusting his hips into mine.

“No,” I moan. “No names.” My fingers rake through his thick, dark brown hair. It’s softer than it looks and my pussy throbs as I imagine his head between my legs. There’s nothing I want more than to tell him my name and hear it fall from the sexiest lips I’ve ever tasted.

Are all kisses supposed to be this way?

“Then I’m going to call you Candy.”

“Candy?” I question, my voice hoarse. My lids are heavy with passion as my head drops back.

He licks along my collarbone and buries his face in the valley between my breasts. “You look like cotton candy in this dress.” The warmth of his tongue bathes the top curves of my breasts. “You taste sweet like it too,” he murmurs against my skin.

The sharp crack of a door slamming in the distance has his head raising. My legs unwrap from his hips and he places me down. Stepping back, he runs a hand through his rumpled hair while I adjust my dress.

We both quickly glance as someone enters the far end of the hallway and then our guilt coated eyes meet. It’s only one of the employees from the catering company Noah hired, but it’s enough to break the sensual spell between us. Reality has come crashing back in full force and I’m horrified at my actions. I just made out with a total stranger and let him dry hump me against a wall. His face was buried in my boobs and I didn’t tell him my name.

I didn’t want to know his.

I still don’t.

My hand trembles, before coasting over my brow. I just want to get the hell out of here and forget this happened. I can always blame it on the champagne.

“I have to go,” I blurt out. Unsteadily scurrying down the long tiled hallway toward the exit on my high heels, each step I take taps out like a message in Morse Code on a telegraph.

“Wait,” he shouts, but I keep moving. “Candy, where are you going?”

I don’t answer him or look back. I hurry around the corner and find a ladies restroom I can disappear inside. Once the door thumps closed behind me, I sigh with relief. Moving over to the sink, I stare at myself in the mirror. My cheeks are pinker than I’ve ever seen them, a combination of passion and embarrassment. My hair was neat and orderly at the beginning of the party, but now it’s a long, light brown mess from the sexy stranger’s fingers. I don’t even look like myself. My pink dress is askew, the edge of my white lace bra exposed. Skimming over my hair with both hands helps to restore some order. Adjusting my dress, I make sure all my parts are covered.

Glancing down at the diamond encrusted platinum Rolex Joseph bought me almost two years ago for my twenty-fourth birthday, I realize it’s too early for me to leave. I don’t want to disappoint Reagan. Sighing, I resign myself to returning to the party room and retrace my steps. I’ll have to ignore the handsome stranger for the rest of the night. Drawing a deep breath, my hand closes around the doorknob; here goes nothing.

Once inside, my eyes cautiously scan the space, seeking out his tall form. I’m disappointed he’s not anywhere to be seen, but I know it’s for the best. It’s not like anything could ever come of it.

Spontaneously kissing one stranger doesn’t change anything. I’m still me; Joseph’s ex-girlfriend. The girl who’s forgotten how to be anything else.

CHAPTER ONE

Nick

LATE MAY

THERE’S nothing better than the first sip of an ice-cold brew after a ball busting workout. And with the ass kicking I just suffered at the hands of my trainer, I need all the help I can get.

“Dude, what was up with Jimmy today? He was all over everyone, even you and you’re marrying into the family,” I ask my buddy Noah, who’s engaged to Jimmy’s youngest daughter, Reagan. He’s one of my best friends and a fellow fighter. Eight months ago, he won a national title and has become somewhat of a celebrity. It’s surreal to see random people walk up to him and ask for autographs or pictures.

“I’m not sure. Reagan mentioned something about her sister going through a tough time. Her ex-boyfriend is giving her problems. I don’t know the details, but I know Jimmy threatened to kick his ass and I volunteered to help.”

My ears perk up at the mention of Reagan’s sister. “Which sister?” I ask. Noah introduced me to Kennedy the night of the engagement party. I still don’t know the other sister’s name, but I do like thinking of her as ‘Candy.’ Reagan warned me to stay away when she noticed my heated stare locked on like I wanted to devour her. Which I did want to and still do.

“It’s Kennedy, the oldest sister.”

Nodding my head, I breathe a sigh of relief that it’s not Candy. I’d hate to think of anyone giving her a hard time and if I found out they were I’d feel obligated to do something about it. We shared the hottest kiss of my life and since then there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where I haven’t thought about the minutes we spent together. God knows I’ve tried to forget. I don’t want to be hung up on some girl who wouldn’t even give me her name. Not to mention she’s my trainer’s daughter and he’d be a nightmare to deal with if he knew I was interested in her. He’s already tough on a good day. If we were dating he’d make my life hell every opportunity he got.

“Hey, are you coming to our party?” Noah asks, then takes a small sip of his Sam Adams draft.

“What’s it for again?”

“It’s for Carter’s twenty-sixth birthday. Reagan wants to make a big deal of it.” Damn, I didn’t realize that I’m crazy about an older woman. Biting on my lower lip, I suppress the grin that wants to break free.

“Yeah, I’ll be there man. I wouldn’t miss it. Free booze and food, that’s all me.” My pulse races at the possibility of seeing Candy again. “Are any of Reagan’s friends coming?” I ask, paranoid that Noah can tell how much the thought of seeing her again excites me - even though he doesn’t know we’ve met.

“Moira will be there,” he says, his lips hidden behind the glass of golden beer when he takes a sip.

“She’s hot, but she’s got crazy written all over her. She asked me if my sperm were strong swimmers when we met and mentioned something about me being a good substitute father for her future children.” I shake my head. “The girl’s whacked.”

Noah laughs. “She’s a little out there, but she’s good to Reagan and that’s all that matters.”

Lifting the bottle of Heineken to my lips, I swallow a gulp down. The cold brew hits the spot, quenching my thirst and helping me relax after my workout.

“How are you feeling about the upcoming fight?” I ask.

He shrugs his shoulders. “Good so far. It’s still six weeks away, but I think I’m right on track.” He sips his beer and places the glass back on the bar in front of him. His fingers drum on the wooden surface as he glances around. “What did you decide to do about football for the next school year? Are you going to play or not?”

“Good question. I’m still not sure. If I don’t play, I’ll lose my scholarship, which wouldn’t be the end of the world since it’s my final year.” It’s not like my parents can’t afford it. All they have to do is dip into the trust fund my grandfather set up for me. I don’t have access to the money until I’m twenty-five, but they can use it for my college tuition. “It would be worth losing it to have more training time at the gym.” I run a careless hand through my hair. “Brady and Zeke are both graduating,” I say, mentioning both of my roommates. They’re also two of my closest friends aside from Noah and Griffin, another guy we train with. “I think Owen Dawson; the backup quarterback will take over. He’ll be a sophomore in the fall. The kid has an arm that slings missiles. He’s unbelievably talented. He might even give Brady a run for his money, but don’t tell him I said that.”

“Isn’t Brady’s brother at B.U. now too?” Nick questions.

“Yep, Trevor’s a tight end. The kid’s a beast. The gene pool for athleticism in that family is fucking impressive.”

“Hi, Nick,” a pretty brunette sidles up next to me with a smile and a hand trailing over my shoulder. I can’t remember her name or where we’ve met.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Great. But things could get a lot more interesting now that I know you’re here.” She leans her tits into my arm.

“You’re going to have to remind me where we met. I’m drawing a blank.” Raising my bottle, I draw in a large sip.

“We met at Griff’s party a few months ago.” She smiles knowingly while I try to remember if she’s someone I fucked. I’m not a dog who gets his knob polished by a different girl every night, but there are a few girls I’ve been with in the past that I call when I need to take care of business. Lately, that hasn’t happened at all. I haven’t had sex since before I met Carter, and I’m not sure why. I only know, there’s something special about her that makes it difficult to drive her out of my mind. The chemistry between us was hotter than anything I’ve ever experienced or imagined.

As I study the brunette some more, I remember exactly when I met her, and I’m relieved nothing happened between us. “It’s nice seeing you, but my man here,” I gesture at Noah, “and I are in the middle of an important conversation. I’m going to have to cut this short.” I soften my harsh words with a smile.

“Oh, okay.” She steps back with a look of surprise on her face. I guess she doesn’t usually get turned down. “If you change your mind, I’ll be over there.” She points to the back of the bar where a table of girls stare in our direction.

“Gotcha.” I wink and turn back to Noah.

He chuckles.

“What?” I question.

“My boy’s a heartbreaker.” He claps me on the back.

“I’m not.” I shake my head.

“Dude, you attract them like flies.”

“Most of the time they’re as annoying as them too.” I drink down the rest of my beer and signal the bartender for another. “You want a refill?”

“Nah, I’m gonna’ stick with just one and then hit the road. I promised Reagan I’d be home early.”

“Pussy whipped.” I cough out.

“The hell I am. I just wanna’ see my girl.” The bartender places the beer down in front of me, removing the empty.

“If I had a girl I loved, I’d probably be a pussy whipped bastard like you.” I laugh as he punches me. “Where are the cameras when I need them?” I grab my arm with a pained expression. “That punch could be worth a lot of money.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re worth more than I’ll ever be.”

I grimace at the reminder that he knows about my family’s wealth. I don’t usually share that I have a trust fund, but the details spilled out one night with a bottle of Jim Beam between us and two shot glasses. Noah revealed how his father drank himself to death which is one of the reasons fighting is so important to him. I filled him in on how I’m not sure I want to continue playing football, but my father is pressuring me. He has big dreams that I’ll play in the NFL and honestly, it’s not an unattainable goal for me. I’m pretty damn good at the game, but somewhere along the way, fighting has become my passion and I’m no longer willing to push that aside to please my father.

This is my life, not his.

CHAPTER TWO

Carter

EVERYONE HAS a bad day here and there, but I’ve been having a bad year. Life has smashed a giant creme pie in my face over and over for the past five months. Ever since my fiancé Joseph slept with Lisa, my ex friend, I’ve had one thing after another thrown at me. I do my best to keep a stiff upper lip and not let things affect me, but enough is enough. I think I’ve reached my limit and I need to call a timeout.

The latest catastrophe I’m dealing with is trying to find someplace to move into. Joseph needs me out of the house we lived in; the house he bought for us to raise a family in.

When we first split he moved into Lisa’s apartment, but now he’s claiming they need the extra space since they’re expecting a baby in four more months. He came up with all the money for the down payment and took care of all the monthly bills that go along with owning a house. Since I’ve been living there for free, I can’t really complain, and it has allowed me to save up a decent size nest egg.

I’ve decided to take this opportunity to move back to Boston. Doing this will put a good number of miles between Joseph and I - some much-needed distance. I’ll have to live with my parents until I can find a place of my own, but at least I’ll be near my sisters. I’d prefer to stay with Kennedy, but I can’t bring myself to ask her. She has enough drama in her life with her ex-boyfriend, Mike. I didn’t want to put her on the spot because I knew she’d say yes.

I’m close with both of my sisters, although I don’t get to see them nearly enough, especially Reagan. With her attending four years of college in California, she was really only home for the summers. We’d cram as much fun as we could into those three months and then she’d disappear for nine more.

Sorting through my wardrobe is overwhelming. I have too many clothes and not really by choice. Being the fiancé of an aspiring politician required me to dress a certain way. Picking up a floor length gown, I fold it neatly. I won’t be needing this any time soon. Setting it down on the donate pile, I continue to sort through a sea of clothes. Endless pairs of black pants, and pink blouses go into one of the plastic storage bins I’m taking with me. I add numerous sweaters and more pants until I can barely get the cover closed. While I pack up all my worldly possessions I try my hardest not to let thoughts of happier times spent with Joseph wander into my mind. It’s a more difficult task than I anticipated, especially when I’m staring at photographic evidence of how happy we once were. Picking up the silver framed picture, I study the image of us. Our arms are wrapped around each other, cheeks pressed together and eyes shining. When did the glow of love that surrounded us fade?

When did it become okay for him to stick his cock in another woman?

Because, drunk or not, that never should’ve happened. I could’ve been falling down from alcohol consumption, and I would never have slept with another man.

Moving day arrives and with it comes a sense of excitement. This is the first time I’ve felt hopeful in a long time. Joseph hired movers to take all my possessions and necessities to my parent’s garage. I told him I didn’t want him paying for anything else, but he insisted. I guess guilt can be a bitch on the wallet. The rest of my things get packed neatly into the trunk and back seat of my two-year-old Volvo.

Now that I’ve gained some distance from Joseph, I realize he was turning me into the perfect little wife. Nice conservative clothes – check. Dependable sedan – check. People pleaser - check. It’s disconcerting how much I let him change me and now I’m not even sure how to undo all the damage he caused to my psyche.

How do I go about finding myself when I can’t even remember where I got lost?

What happened to the girl who didn’t rely on anyone for anything? The girl who went to UMass even though her parents pressured her to stay local? Maybe finding that part of me, will help set me on the right path. I need to move forward one step at a time, although moving into my childhood home feels like a giant leap backward.

Even though I’ve been here for two days, it still feels as though I’ve landed in an alternate universe every time I glance around my old pink bedroom. And in a way, I have. I’ve just regressed six years into the past. If only I could really go back in time and change my actions. Where did I go wrong?

Was it in fifth grade when Mary Olson teased me about having a boy name? It didn’t help when I told her I was named after a President. She replied with, “exactly, all the presidents have been male.” She had a point and unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one who made fun of me for my unorthodox name. As a result, I began to overcompensate by wearing as much pink as I possibly could. Pink - a color boys don’t usually wear.

Maybe, I’d go back to the day when I met Joseph in the library at UMass. I was seated alone at a long table studying for one of my exams when he asked if he could share the space with me. He was cute in an unassuming, clean cut way and he had a nice smile with perfect teeth. I nodded and introduced myself and the rest is history.

A better option might be to go back to the day I met Lisa. If I hadn’t met her then she wouldn’t have been introduced to Joseph through me. He and I might still be a couple. We were happy together at one point.

I can’t bring myself to unpack all my clothes and put them away in the closet. Instead, I only take out what I absolutely need to get by for the immediate future. After that, I’m hoping to be in my own place.

The Pepto Bismol pink walls already feel like they’re closing in on me. I need to look for a job. I’m starting dental school at Boston University in January. I applied too late to start for the fall semester, but I can use the extra time to find employment and get settled in an apartment. A fresh start is something I could really use, and I plan to make the most of it. This time, I’m not going to fall for some guy with a nice smile. Straight, white teeth might have been one of my weaknesses, but I’m about to be twenty-six and hopefully older and wiser. This is my chance to do things right. It’s the closest I’ll get to a do over and I plan to take advantage of it.

CHAPTER THREE

Nick

WALKING into Noah and Reagan’s house with Carter’s birthday gift tucked under my arm, has my stomach feeling uneasy. All day my thoughts repeatedly strayed to her. Knowing she’ll be here tonight, I can’t help but wonder what her reaction will be when she sees me?

Setting her present down on a long table with other gifts, I move further inside seeking out my friends and a cold one - not necessarily in that order.

Exchanging brief hellos with some female acquaintances and head nods and fist bumps with some of the guys from the gym, I grab a Heineken out of the fridge. Popping the cap off with the bottle opener lying on the granite counter, I grab a brownie from a plate in the middle of their kitchen table. Three bites later, the sweet chocolate treat is gone and I’m making my way through the people gathered around the dining room table piling all kinds of food on their plates. Slipping past the line that’s forming, my eyes scan the space for any sign of Noah or Griffin. I don’t spot them, but I zone in on Carter. Of course, she’s here already. It is her party and she looks more attractive than I remember. I didn’t think that could be possible. Once again, she’s wearing pink. This time it’s a fitted shirt, instead of a dress and she’s wearing tight, dark blue jeans that hug her long, shapely legs. I fight the urge to rush over and pick up where we left off two months ago. Somehow, I don’t think she’d appreciate me hauling her off like a caveman in front of her sisters and friends. Then again, she was the one who initiated things between us last time.

Standing here surreptitiously studying her, I get the impression she’s more reserved than she appeared to be the night of Noah and Reagan’s engagement party. Chin tucked to her chest, she holds a drink in her hand as the conversation flows around her. Her eyes flick to each person as they speak, showing interest, but she remains silent, not offering any contribution.

The loud bark of Griff’s laughter pulls my attention across the room. He and Noah are hanging out with Rob, another fighter friend from Collins’ Fight Club, the gym where we train. Weaving in and out of people, I make my way over to them.

“Nick, my man. It’s about time you got here,” Noah says, as we fist bump. Griff and Rob bump my extended fist too.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” I sip on my beer and listen to the chatter around me.

“Not much. Just checking out Reagan’s friends,” Griff offers.

“Noah, do you miss your single days? Are you panicking about the engagement yet?” I ask, slapping him on the back.

He shrugs my hand away. “Fuck no. I went four years without Reagan and missed her every single day. I won’t be having any doubts about marrying her. If I could do it tonight I would.”

“How’s it feel to be officially pussy whipped?” I smirk, then tip my bottle back for another sip of the cold liquid.

“Fuck you. You wish you were in my shoes,” he counters.

“I never thought I’d see the day that No-No Nolan would be turned from a lion into a pussy cat.”

“I’m pretty sure this ‘pussy cat,’ kicks your ass around the cage just fine.”

“He’s got a point,” Griff interjects, tipping his head in my direction.

“Calm down, dude. I’m just fucking with you. Pussy whipped looks good on you,” I joke.

Noah shakes his head and smiles. “You’re such a dickhead. Remind me why I invited you.”

“You like the entertainment I provide. Maybe I should be charging for each appearance.”

“Things are never dull when you’re around,” Rob offers.

“Exactly. Thanks for making my point for me. We can negotiate my fee before the next party.”

Noah nods in agreement. “Sure. I’ll even supply the clown suit for you.”

“Nice. Did I ever tell you I wanted to be Ronald McDonald when I was a kid?”

“What?” Griff questions, raising an eyebrow.

“Yep, it’s true. He’s the face of McDonald’s. He must get endless fries and nuggets, right? That guy’s living the dream.”

Noah shakes his head. “Dude, where do you come up with this shit?”

I tap my index finger on my head. “It’s a gift, really. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I think about.”

“We don’t want to know,” Rob says with a grin.

“Oh, I think you do,” I say with a wink and then drink down the rest of my beer. “I’m getting a refill. Anyone else need one?”

“No, I’m all set for now.” I’m not surprised at Noah’s reply. He never has more than one beer in the weeks leading up to a fight.

I gesture at Griff and Rob, but they’re not interested either. What’s up with everyone tonight? Aside from Noah when he’s training hard, these guys aren’t ones to turn down free alcohol.

Meandering around party guests on my way back to the fridge, I notice Carter slipping down the hallway toward the bathroom. Not wanting to miss any opportunity to get her alone, I follow. Leaning against the wall, I’m prepared to wait as long as I must. I need to take advantage of her being here. I haven’t seen her in over two months and for all I know it could be a few more before I’ll see her again.

Head tipped back on the wall, eyes closed, I get lost in thoughts of the kiss Carter and I shared. It was smoking hot and I never wanted it to end.

Was it the same for her?

Has she been thinking about me?

Maybe she’s sorry she never got my name that night.

“What are you doing here?” she asks in an annoyed tone of voice. My eyes snap open and take in the scowl on her face.

Maybe not.

She doesn’t look like she’s happy to see me.

“Noah’s a good friend of mine. He mentioned a birthday party, and I’m always game for free food, beer and running into gorgeous girls.” My eyes hungrily roam over her beautiful face. I’ve been starved for the sight of her. “What are you doing here?” I turn the tables on her, pretending I don’t know it’s her party.

“Reagan is my sister,” she huffs at me, crossing her arms over her chest. The motion is meant to be defensive, but all it does is get me paying attention to her tits. I can’t help myself and my eyes wander down to get a closer look. Fuck. I shouldn’t have looked because now I’m imagining my dick sliding in the snug, dark space between them and I’m hard as fucking steel.

“Do I get an introduction this time?” I question, taking a step closer to her.

She looks me up and down, swallowing visibly. “I’m Carter.”

Extending my hand to her, I wait until she takes it before I speak. “I’m Nick.” I don’t release my hold on her, instead I tug her into the nearest room which I know happens to be the spare bedroom. I’ve spent more than a few nights here sleeping off my whiskey overindulgence.

“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice a panicked squeak.

Flipping the light on, I push the door closed behind us and smoothly cage her against it. Being naturally athletic has its advantages. “This time you’re going to know who you’re kissing.” Her eyes go wide, and she opens her mouth to speak. Before she can utter a single sound, my lips take hers, capturing the hot as fuck breathy moan she releases. Swallowing it down, along with the sweet taste of her tongue, makes me want so much more. I want to lick her from head to toe and every single tempting inch between. Kissing her is even hotter than I remember and it’s all I can do to restrain myself from throwing her on the bed and picking up where we left off the last time we were together. I know as much as I want to, I can’t think with my dick. I’ve been hung up on this girl for two months now. It’s time to work some of my famous ‘Nick charm’ on her.

My palms cup her face as I press another soft kiss on her lips. Drawing back slightly, I notice the flush of passion on her cheeks and the sheen of desire in her eyes.

She wants me as much as I want her.

Clenching my teeth, I will myself to slow down and move my hands to her upper arms. She’s not someone I want for a one and done, she’s a commitment type of girl. Normally, this would send me running, but I’ve had enough time to work through my attraction to her and I know it’s not going anywhere - especially with that kiss we just shared. It was fucking fantastic and if I had any doubts the last couple of minutes erased them.

I grin at her. “It’s nice to meet you, Carter. When can I take you out?”

“It’s nice meeting you, also.” She presses her lips together in a suggestion of a smile.

Yes. I can tell she wants to go out with me. Where should I take her? Dinner? A movie?

“I can’t go out with you.”

Wait. What? My eyebrows draw together as I study her. “Can you repeat that?” Maybe I misheard. My hands hold her arms tighter.

She sighs. “I said, I can’t go out with you.” She chews on her lower lip as she stares up at me with large blue eyes – the same blue eyes I’ve been dreaming about.

“Why the hell not?” I ask, my tone deep and unquestionably annoyed.

“I’m not interested in dating anyone right now.”

“I’m not just anyone,” I wink, my thumbs caressing her arms. “I can guarantee going out with me would be the ride of your life.”

She shrugs her shoulders and I loosen my hold, letting my hands fall to my sides. “Sorry, I just got off the ride of my life and I’m not looking for another.”

“You know,” I pause, “no two rides are alike. I’m one of a kind and it’s not really fair to compare me or judge me based on some jerkoff ex of yours.”

Awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she crosses her arms over her chest, leaning back against the door. “Don’t take it personally. You seem like a really nice guy, but I’m not ready to jump back into the dating pool and I’m not sure when I will be.”

Fuck. As disappointed as this news makes me, I twist my lips into a crooked grin. “No problem, Candy. It was nice seeing you again.” I step back, creating space between us. I know I’m not changing her mind tonight. Better luck next time; whenever that may be.

She scowls at her nickname. “It’s Carter and it was nice meeting you, Nick.” She whirls around wildly, long tresses flying through the air, and I catch their scent. She smells like coconut or one of those mixed drink that tastes fruity, but is loaded with liquor and ends up knocking you on your ass unexpectedly. Yep, kind of like she just did to me when she turned me down. I never imagined her saying no. Maybe that makes me a cocky asshole, but girls don’t usually refuse when I ask them out.

Changing her mind is going to be a lot of fun.

CHAPTER FOUR

Carter

“I HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU,” Reagan announces, smiling in my direction.

“What?” I question, skeptically. I’m not a big fan of surprises. The last surprise I got involved my fiancé sleeping with a friend. Surprise! And knocking her up. Surprise!

“You’re coming to New York,” she announces.

“What?”

“I bought you a ticket to come with us when we go to the city for Noah’s fight during the second week of July. I booked you a hotel room; also my treat.”

“Reagan, I wish you wouldn’t have done that. I don’t have the money to pay you back, right now. Every cent I’ve saved is going toward paying for dental school.”

“You’re not paying me back, silly. This is a gift for me, more than you.”

I raise my eyebrow at her. “How do you figure?”

“I don’t get to see enough of you. Even now that you’re back in Boston, we still don’t spend much time together. Buying you a ticket ensures I will.” She smiles, proudly.

“Well aren’t you just a little manipulator,” I say, pressing my lips together.

“Are you mad about it?” Reagan questions, looking worried.

“No, how can I be? It’s a really sweet gesture and being in New York with you will be a blast.”

SIX WEEKS LATER - JULY

“Thanks for giving me a ride,” I say, smiling at my sister, Kennedy. “I really didn’t want to ask Mom. Fifteen minutes trapped in the car with her is more than I can handle right now. I still can’t believe Reagan bought me a plane ticket.”

Kennedy shrugs her shoulders. “Reagan never does anything she doesn’t want to.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” My eyes flick in her direction.

“No, it’s not bad, but not all of us have that luxury,” she replies, flatly.

My gaze roams over her face, noticing how pale she is, and her cheekbones look sharper than usual. She’s losing weight. “What’s going on with you? Why are you so thin?”

“I’ve always been thin.”

“This is more than usual and you seem down. Is it Mike? Is he bothering you, again?”

“He’s never really gone away. I’ve been keeping my distance from him, but he has a habit of showing up unexpectedly.”

“Wasn’t Dad going to put the fear of God into him?” I question.

“He wanted to, but I don’t need Dad getting into trouble. He’d probably lose his temper and pop him one. He doesn’t need a law suit and Mike is just the type to go that route.”

I unzip my carryon bag for the fifth time to obsessively make sure I have everything. Kennedy continues speaking as I rifle through my belongings. “What’s going on with you? Are you over that weasel you were engaged to?”

“I’m over him, but I’m not over what happened if that makes sense.” Zipping the bag closed, I place it on the floor between my feet.

“I guess I can understand that.” She nods her head, eyes focused on the road.

“I miss being in a relationship and having someone I can count on. We did spend over four years together.” I smooth a hand over my hair. “Being alone after all that time is hard and living with Mom and Dad doesn’t make it easier.” I take a deep breath and exhale a long sigh. “God, I need to get out of their house. I don’t know which one of them drives me crazier. If Mom isn’t hovering and telling me what I need to do, Dad is asking me fifty questions.”

Kennedy giggles. “I can only imagine. I’m glad I’m not in your shoes.”

“Finding a place to live is my priority as soon as I get back from this trip. Also, finding a job with more hours. Working at the coffee shop three days a week isn’t going to be enough.”

“Enjoy this trip. You deserve the change of scenery. Get a little wild. Have sex with someone you just met.”

My head snaps around as she wiggles her eyebrows, never taking her eyes from the road. “You know that’s not going to happen. I plan on drinking excessively and maybe dancing until my feet hurt. That’s about as wild as it’s going to get.”

She shakes her head then signals to take the ramp into Logan Airport.

I undo my seatbelt as the car stops along the curb. “Thanks for the ride.” Leaning over, I give her a quick hug.

“Text me if anything exciting happens.”

I snort. “This is me we’re talking about, not you. Exciting doesn’t exist in my world.” As the words leave my lips I think about the kisses I’ve shared with the mysterious Nick and I know my words aren’t entirely true. Our kisses were the hottest ones of my life.

“Live a little, Carter. Loosen up, lose the pink,” she gestures at my shirt, “and let some hot dude take you back to his room.”

Rolling my eyes in her direction, I close the door. She lowers the passenger window. “Seriously, this is your homework for this trip.” I pause and arch an eyebrow at her. “I want you to get drunk with someone of the opposite sex and you have to at least kiss them. The rest will take care of itself.”

“Sure,” I say, mostly to pacify her. Grabbing my suitcase out of the trunk, I set it down and adjust my bag higher on my shoulder. Gripping the plastic handle, I roll it behind me, pausing on the sidewalk beside the car to blow Kennedy a kiss.

“I mean it, Car. I want a full report after it happens.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you.” I wave, wiggling my fingers.

She smiles. “Love you too.”

I make my way toward the entrance, rolling my bag along the pitted sidewalk. “Have fun,” Kennedy shouts as she drives away.

Thirty minutes later I’m finally approaching the gate. My bag’s been checked and all that’s left is to wait for my flight.

Reagan, Noah and my Dad are all in New York City already. They left last weekend, so Noah could get adjusted to the media buzz and get some training in. Something as simple as being in a new state or training facility can be enough to throw a fighter off their game.

My dad is like the fighter’s version of Yoda. He’s got tricks of the trade that really make a difference and none of his fighters question his training methods. If they do, they don’t last long. You can’t turn someone into a champion if they fight you every step of the way.

Taking a seat in one of the vacant chairs, I pull out my kindle, losing myself in the latest thriller I’ve downloaded. Reading is the only thing keeping me sane these days. With the combined stress of living with my parents and everything that’s happened with Joseph, sometimes I think my composed facade is sure to crack.

On top of those things, I also need to find an affordable place to live and get a full-time job. I want to work as much as I can before I start school in January. And this is my second and final go at dental school. I’ve already completed the first year, but I foolishly let Joseph talk me into putting the final three years on hold - indefinitely.

What was I thinking? Moving back to Boston has been the best thing for me. Even if Joseph and Lisa still live in the same small state as me, I now have a fresh perspective on life.

I’ve thought about the past more than I care to admit and I’m still not sure how I let myself be turned into such a meek, agreeable puppet. It scares me to know I was so quick to become everything he wanted me to be and none of whom I’ve always dreamed of being. Why did I give up my goals to gain his approval?

Tucking my kindle back inside my bag, I zip it closed when they make the announcement to start boarding the plane. My stomach tumbles over and over with every step closer I get to the gate. I’m deathly afraid of crashing. The last time I was on a plane I hyperventilated so bad, I almost passed out. In my moment of panic, I jumped out of my seat into the aisle and started running around like a chicken with its head cut off. You’d think that not getting enough air in your lungs would make you settle down to conserve energy, but it had the opposite effect. So, I’m not only worried about crashing and plummeting to the ground in a ball of fire, I also fear I’ll make a fool of myself in front of all the passengers.

Somehow, I manage to hold it together until I’m in my seat and then my heart starts racing. Next comes the tightness in my throat that makes it almost impossible to draw in a deep breath or swallow. Resting my head back on the seat, I close my eyes and try to slow my heart rate. Just as it feels like it might be working, a deep voice to my right surprises me. “Is this your bag?”

My eyes open to find Nick standing in the aisle, gesturing at the carryon I had set down in the seat beside me. What the hell is he doing here?

“Candy, are you okay?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

It’s hearing the ridiculous nickname that has me snapping out of my fog. “Yeah, that’s mine.” I reach for the handle, but he beats me to it, storing it in the overhead compartment. “Thank you,” I murmur. He sits and our arms brush against each other.

I can feel his eyes on the right side of my face. “Go ahead and ask,” he says.

My head snaps around and I meet his gaze. I also catch the crooked smile on his full lips. “Ask what?”

“Ask me what I’m doing here. You know you’re dying to.”

I grit my teeth in annoyance. How does he know what I’m thinking? “I hadn’t really given it any thought,” I say, playing it off.

He leans closer as if he’s going to share a secret with me. I catch a whiff of his manly cologne and hungrily inhale the masculine scent. I pull it deep into my nostrils hoping I’ll never forget the smell. “I’m going to New York, so I can be one of Noah’s corner guys.”

I nod my head slowly, incapable of answering with his lips so close to mine. I can see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes and the quick smile he flashes has me admiring his straight, white teeth.

“Did you have braces?” I blurt the question out and then flush with embarrassment.

“I did,” he nods. “I went through three years of torture for this smile.” He points to his displayed teeth. “What d’ya think? Was it worth it?”

My eyes take in the symmetry of his incisors and I nod. “Definitely.” He grins at my answer.

The announcements begin and when they talk about what to do in an emergency, my heart begins to race. Calm down. I remind myself, but it doesn’t have much of an effect.

Over the next few minutes, my thoughts begin to spiral out of control. I worry about the rate of my speeding heart and the lack of oxygen I’m taking in. My fingers clutch at my thighs when we begin to charge down the runway. My eyes squeeze shut and my teeth clench as I press my head back into the seat.

Warmth comfortingly surrounds my hand and a deep voice in my ear urges me to breathe. “You’re okay, Candy. I’m right here,” he soothes as his thumb gently caresses the back of my hand.

I focus on the sensation of his skin on mine and try not to think about the metal death trap that’s lifting off at this precise minute. When he releases his hold on me, I let out a panicked sound. “It’s okay. I’m just moving,” he explains as he wraps an arm around me and urges my head to his shoulder. The plane bumps and bounces as we climb higher and I give in to the urge to be comforted, resting my head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his stomach. With both of his arms around me, my heart rate settles, and my breathing becomes less labored. Keeping my eyes closed, I savor the feeling of his muscular frame under my cheek as his delicious scent envelops me. His strong steady heartbeat under my ear reassures me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been held like this.

Who am I kidding? I’ve never been held like this.

CHAPTER FIVE

Nick

HAVING Carter in my arms is too good to be true and being able to offer her some comfort in her time of need is priceless. The sheer look of panic on her face when we were taking off was heartbreaking. I couldn’t stop myself from pulling her into my arms even if I tried. And now that she’s here, I never want this moment to end. She fits perfectly against my chest.

Lowering my nose to the top of her hair, I inhale the coconut scent. She smells like vacation in a tropical paradise. My brain automatically conjures up an image of her in a tiny string bikini. It’s light blue to match her eyes and I can see her nipples poking through the small triangles that make up the top. Her wet hair is slicked back into a ponytail. I watch as beads of water trail down her chest to her stomach, finally catching on the edge of her bikini bottoms. My tongue tingles with the urge to lick them from her soft skin.

She raises her head, snapping me out of my tropical beach fantasy, but the reality of her here in my arms is much better - even if she is fully clothed. Our gazes lock and it’s all I can do to keep myself from smashing my lips to hers and tugging her into my lap. My dick is hard as a rock right now and her grinding on it would be a more than enjoyable temporary fix.

My palm caresses down the back of her hair, smoothing the flyaway strands before she relaxes back in her seat. I know our moment is over for now, but I’ll take what I can get. We’ll both be in New York for five days with none of the everyday distractions we face back in Boston. A lot can happen in that time.

“Feel better?” I ask, raising a brow.

She nods, her lips press together and a pink flush stains her cheeks. I think she’s embarrassed now that her bout of panic is over. She’s adorable.

“I don’t like riding on the bus for our away football games,” I mention.

Her head snaps in my direction. “You don’t?”

“No, I get motion sick if I don’t sit near the front.”

She scrunches her nose up. “Really?”

“Yep, honestly. When I was a freshman I had a panic attack on the bus and thought I was having a heart attack. My chest was tight, and I couldn’t breathe.”

She giggles and then looks chagrined. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh at something that had to be terrifying for you. It’s just that I can’t imagine you being scared of anything.”

“I’m scared of plenty.”

She aims a look loaded with skepticism at me. “Why do I think you’re saying this to make me feel better?”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “I’m petrified of spiders.”

She smiles.

“Really. I’ve been known to scream and shriek like a girl when one is near.”

She snorts. “I think I’d like to see that.”

“Hey, that’s mean. You want to see me scared and fearing for my life?”

“Let’s not go overboard. I don’t think your life would be in jeopardy.”

“I know that now, but when I see one of those black creepy crawlies with a fat furry body, I lose all sense of reason.” I shudder at the visual.

“What else are you scared of?” she questions, turning in her seat to face me.

“I’m scared of sharks. I watched Jaws when I was nine. We were on vacation in Florida at the time. I don’t know what possessed my parents to let us watch it, but I didn’t go in the ocean for the rest of the trip. Even now I hear the theme song in my head when I swim in water that’s past my waist.”

She laughs, and I get a pleasant fluttering sensation in my chest. I want to make her laugh as often as possible.

“Tell me another thing that scares you.”

“I get it. I’m here for your amusement.” I narrow my eyes and press my lips together. “Demons scare the shit out of me.”

“Demons aren’t real,” she replies.

“How do you know for sure?” I ask, raising my hands palm up.

“Because no one’s ever seen one.”

“I beg to differ. I bet if we Googled it, we’d find plenty of people who said they’ve seen one.”

“Yeah, but they’d all be crazy.”

“Maybe they’re just labelled crazy because science can’t explain it. I’ve had nightmares about demons crawling all over me. When I wake up from one, I’d swear it was real. I felt their sharp claws poking into me.”

“Nightmares are often like that. They’re more real than regular dreams.”

“Okay, your turn. What are you afraid of?”

She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “I’m scared of slugs.”

“Slugs? Snail like creatures?” I ask, for clarification purposes.

“Mhm.” She shivers in revulsion.

“What scares you about them?”

“They’re just so repulsive. Their slimy bodies make me want to vomit. They’re like giant phlegm balls.” She squeezes her eyes shut, shuddering.

I smile as I watch her. I can’t help my reaction. She’s just so damn cute.

Her eyes open and she catches my expression. “Are you laughing at me?” she questions, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Not a chance.”

An announcement cuts in, interrupting our conversation. We’ll be approaching John F Kennedy International airport soon. This short flight has passed way too quickly. I’m not ready to be done spending time with her.

“Which bag is yours?” I ask as we stand side by side at the baggage claim.

“That one.” When she points to a bright pink suitcase, I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.

“Wow, you really like pink, huh?”

She chews on her lower lip. “I hate it.”

“You hate it?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Mhm.” She pushes her hands into her back pockets and we both watch as her obnoxious pink bag moves closer.

Snatching it off the conveyer belt, I set it down on the floor beside me. Throwing the strap of my duffel bag over my shoulder, I reach down and grip the handle of her suitcase. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Gesturing with my head for her to follow me, I start to move toward the main exit. We walk in silence. Me pulling her pink shiny suitcase along and her with the smaller carryon she had on the plane.

My head flicks in her direction when she giggles. “What’s so funny?”

“You with my suitcase.”

If it makes her smile, I’d carry a pink bag every day. “Hey, I’m confident in my masculinity. I totally rock pink,” I say, casually with a shrug. “I look so cool, it might even start a new trend.”

“Mhm, you keep telling yourself that,” she replies looking more than a little skeptical.

Once we step outside, we move toward the edge of the curb to flag down a taxi. One pulls over almost immediately and I tell him the address of our hotel. We load the trunk with our bags and slide inside the back doors. The interior of the vehicle smells like stale sweat. Carter wrinkles her nose and we both roll down our windows at the same time. Once the fresh air circulates it helps to make the odor less noticeable and we both relax back in our seats.

Pulling my cellphone out, I check to see how far away the hotel we’re staying at is. It’s only seventeen miles from the airport and if we can avoid traffic we should be there soon.

“So, I’m curious about something,” I say, turning to face her.

“What’s that?” She clasps her hands in her lap.

“If you hate pink, why do you wear so much of it?”

She presses her lips together as if she doesn’t want to answer and for a moment I wonder if she will. Her eyes trek nervously around the interior of the car, bouncing off things until they finally settle on her clasped hands. “I hate pink because it reminds me of who I used to be.”

I wait for her to clarify or reveal more, but she stays silent.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

She exhales with a large sigh. “I never used to wear pink. I used to wear whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Somewhere along the way, I lost sight of what I liked, and it became all about appearances and pleasing other people. Now I have more pink than I know what to do with.” She shrugs.

Her answer is somewhat vague, but I’m not going to push for more currently. I should tread carefully and be patient if I want to get to know her better. And I do.

“Well if it’s any consolation, you’ve looked beautiful every time I’ve seen you.”

“Thank you. That’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s true. One thing you’ll learn about me, I like to be blunt. It’s so much easier.”

“Blunt can be good. Unless it’s your fiancé telling you, they’re having a baby with one of your best friends. Then blunt is not the best option.”

Damn. Is this the baggage she’s dealing with?

“Yeah I can see where that would be problematic.” I want to ask her if that happened to her, but we’re just starting to get to know each other. There will be time for asking questions later.

When our taxi pulls up in front of the hotel, Carter practically leaps out of the door. She gets waylaid waiting for the driver to open the trunk and remove her bags. I think she’s embarrassed at what she revealed about her ex. She shouldn’t be. He’s obviously an idiot if he screwed around on her. As the saying goes, one man’s loss is another man’s gain.

Gripping the handle on her suitcase before she can, I slide the strap of my bag on my shoulder and gesture for her to proceed. Watching her walk in front of me is the most fascinating thing I’ve seen in a long time. Her curves are subtle, but mesmerizing.

I’m smart enough to recognize Carter’s worth goes far beyond her natural beauty. Her quick wit is a sign of her intelligence and our verbal dueling excites me in a way I haven’t been before.

I’ve never met a girl who’s grabbed my interest so completely from day one. Not only grabbed it, but kept it. In the past, I’ve had a short attention span when it comes to women. They come to me easy and once I have them, I lose interest. This certainly isn’t the case with Carter. She’s like some super drug that hits all the receptors in my brain leaving me with a sense of euphoria. Being near her calms me and revs me up at the same time. I have no intention of letting her slip through my fingers. The next five days are all about wearing down her defenses and making her realize how much she likes me. I’m up for the challenge.

CHAPTER SIX

Carter

“HI. I HAVE A RESERVATION,” I inform the young man working the check in desk at our hotel.

“Name?” he questions, with his fingers resting on the keyboard. He’s certainly eager to help.

“Carter Collins.” I shift my weight as I try to avoid my arm bumping into Nick as he stands beside me. He doesn’t seem to understand the whole concept of personal space and what it means to encroach on someone else’s.

“Can you spell that please?”

“C-A-R-T-E-R,” I pause, and wait. Nine times out of ten, it’s my first name they aren’t sure of. And why would they be? While Carter is technically a male or female name, I can’t say I’ve ever met another girl with it. It doesn’t help that everyone I know pronounces it wrong. I’m always so careful when I tell someone my name for the first time. I detest being called Cahtah, but it never seems to matter. Bostonians have an aversion to pronouncing ar and er correctly. When I have kids, I’m choosing their names carefully.

“You said your last name is Collins, right?” he asks, his eyes never leaving the computer screen.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Nick leans toward me, pressing his arm into mine. I pretend to be unaffected, but I can feel the tingles he sets off in me, all the way to my feet in their pink flip flops.

“Want to grab some dinner after we check in?” he asks, his breath ghosting my cheek.

“Um...uh,” I stutter then press my lips together.

“I don’t see any reservation for you in our system,” the clerk, interrupts.

My eyes get wide. “What?” How can that be?” My voice is high pitched with a shriek like quality.

“Are you sure you made a reservation here?” he inquires, politely.

“Yes. I’m positive.” I nod my head. “Well, can I book a room now?” I press the heel of my hand to my sweaty brow.

His fingers tap the keys furiously for about ten seconds. He frowns as he studies the monitor. “I’m afraid we have no more vacancies. I can give you the name of some nearby hotels that might have some available rooms.”

My carryon bag falls to the tiled floor with a thump and my head drops into my hands. I give up. I never should have come in the first place. This is the universe’s way of reminding me not to venture out of my comfort zone.

“How about you check me in now and we can figure out her situation after?” Nick questions. While I’m annoyed at his eagerness to get situated in his room, I appreciate his take charge manner in this scenario. Maybe he can sense I’m teetering on the fine line between sanity and going off the deep end. “Name’s Nick Carter,” he says in his delicious, deep voice.

Delicious?

Yuck, what the hell is wrong with me?

Wait a minute…

“Did you say Carter?” I ask, my head popping up instantly.

“I sure did. What’s the matter? Are you upset that you’ll be Carter Carter after we get married?” He flashes a large grin in my direction and I notice the dimple dipping into his left cheek.

I can’t hold in the snort. “No, I was thinking that you have the same name as one of the Backstreet Boys.”

“And I can sing and dance just as well,” he informs me. He croons out, “quit playing games with my heart,” and breaks into some dance moves reminiscent of a boy band. His singing voice is even sexier and makes my pulse throb. That’s not all that’s throbbing. “I should have known from the start,” he continues singing then spins around.

My eyes move from one side to the other as he begins to dance around me.

“Sir, can I see some I.D. please and a major credit card?” the clerk asks interrupting his performance.

Reaching into his back pocket without missing a beat he removes his brown leather wallet. He rifles through it searching for what the clerk needs, before handing it over.

I wonder if he has a condom in there? Crap. Why am I thinking about that? Thoughts like this can get me into trouble.

He probably has two in there.

He looks strong and virile.

I bet he can go more than once.

No. No. No.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I Smack the heel of my palm to my forehead three times while I scold myself and try to drive away all my inappropriate thoughts.

“Are you okay, there?” Nick questions.

My lids snap open to find him watching me with a raised brow and a crooked smile on his kissable lips.

Kissable lips? Damn. Stop it.

“Uh, yeah. Don’t mind me.” I wave a hand dismissively through the air downplaying my odd behavior.

“Here you go, sir,” the clerk hands his cards back. “You’re in room nine-sixty-nine,” he tells him, placing a plastic keycard on the high granite counter.

“Hey, sixty-nine. My lucky number.” He leans over, placing his lips beside my ear. “It could be your lucky number later tonight, Candy.”

My head snaps around in his direction and the expression of outrage on my face has him chuckling. Hopefully, he can’t tell how much the thought of his dark head buried between my legs excites me.

I bet he knows what to do with his tongue.

Oh. My. God. Make it stop.

“Okay, ma'am, here’s a list of local hotels that might have vacancies,” the clerk mentions, handing over a sheet of paper.

Perusing it with my eyes, I notice the nearest one is fifteen miles away. That’s too far of a distance. Frowning, I double check to make sure I’m not missing a closer option. Nope. What am I going to do? I can’t very well expect Reagan to kick Noah out of their room. Somehow, I don’t see either of them, liking that option. There’s no way in hell I’m staying with my father. I see enough of him at home. Besides, he has one of the other trainers from the gym rooming with him.

“Why don’t you just stay with me?” Nick says, peering over my shoulder at the paper in my hand. He snatches it from my grasp and looks it over. “Yep, you need to share my room.” He nods, reassuringly.

Tearing the paper out of his hand, I scowl at him. “I can’t stay with you.”

“Why not?” He puffs his chest out.

“Because,” I huff.

“Because I’m irresistible and you can’t control yourself around me? Because my virtue will be in danger with you in the room?” he questions with a smirk.

Slapping the paper down on the counter, I cross my arms over my chest. “No, because you’re…” I struggle for the right word.

“Hot? Sexy? Loveable?”

“Annoying,” I shout, interrupting him.

“You can’t stay with me because I’m annoying?” He raises a brow.

“I can’t stay with you because I snore really loud,” I say and then do a mental eye roll at my lame excuse.

“I’m a sound sleeper. I won’t even hear you.” He dismisses my words with a shrug of his broad, muscular shoulders.

“Would you mind stepping to the side, so I can take care of the next customer?” the clerk asks, cutting in.

“Oh...I’m sorry,” I stutter. Picking my bag up from the floor, I move to the side of the lobby.

Nick follows, pulling my pink suitcase along behind him.

“Thank you,” I say, holding my hand out for the bag.

“I’ve got it, Candy.” He winks.

“I need to figure out what I’m going to do now,” I moan, chewing on my thumbnail.

“Why are you turning this into such a big deal?”

“It is a big deal. I have no place to stay. It’s not like I can ask my sister if I can stay with them. I’m sure they don’t want me in their room.”

“Look, there are two beds in mine. Stop being so stubborn and just accept the offer. Unless you think you can’t control yourself around all this.” He gestures up and down his body with his hand. “I know it’s a lot to resist.”

“I can control myself just fine.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get up to our room.”

The elevator ride is filled with awkward silence mostly because I’m fuming at myself. Why’d I let him goad me into agreeing? He played me, and I let him. Now, I must live with the consequences and I’m sure he’ll make it as difficult for me as possible.

When the doors open he wheels my bag out behind him, his stride sure. Dragging my feet with each step I take, I glare at his broad back as I follow him down the long hallway. A sense of foreboding washes over me as we approach the room. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I know staying together in the same room could prove to be disastrous. He’s growing on me and as much as I fight it, I find him ridiculously attractive. I need to limit my alcohol consumption while I’m here and avoid looking at him as much as possible. It’s the best course of action I can come up with on such short notice. And really, it’s not a horrible plan when you think about it. Avoiding alcohol is never a bad thing and if I’m careful not to look at him I won’t notice how hot he is. I smile as he inserts the key card into the slot. This is going to be easy. I’ve totally got this.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Nick

GRINNING, I open the door to our room. Now my tasty little Candy, I’ve got you right where I want you. Manipulating her into sharing this room was easier than I expected. I need to remember that she won’t back down from a challenge. Surely, I can use that information to my advantage. As soon as I questioned whether she could handle being around me she was eager to prove that she could. I wonder what else I can goad her into doing? The possibilities are endless.

Wheeling her bag across the bright room, I lay it down on top of the bed closest to the windows. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs as she drops her other bag down beside it.

Stepping away, I move to the other bed and drop my duffel bag from my shoulder to the floor with a thump. Jumping onto the bed, I exhale a large sigh as I lie back with my arms clasped behind my head and my ankles crossed. I kick my sneakers off and grab a second pillow, tucking it behind my head so I can comfortably watch Carter unpack her bags. Her need to put her things away immediately doesn’t surprise me at all. I suspected she wouldn’t be able to live out of a suitcase while we’re here.

I on the other hand, will not be putting my clothes away. What’s the point when we’re only here for five days? Why make extra work for myself?

She unfolds each item of clothing, shakes them out and refolds, before placing them inside the dresser drawers. I smile at her anal tendencies. She’s so neat and orderly. I want to mess her up in the worst way. Even her jeans get hung on hangers in the closet.

Who the fuck hangs up jeans?

Watching her do these mundane tasks is fascinating. I’m not sure why, but it’s most likely because I’ve been thinking about her for the past few months. She could do anything and no matter how odd, I’d still find her attractive.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she questions, walking from the closet toward her suitcase.

“Like what?” I ask just to bust her chops. I know I’m staring at her like she’s a twenty-piece chicken nugget from McDonald’s and I can’t wait to take the first bite.

“Like that,” she says, gesturing at my face.

I flash her a wolf like grin and keep staring without answering.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to unpacking.

When she’s finally done, my stomach is growling hungrily. “Now that you’re all unpacked, want to grab a bite to eat?”

She lowers to the edge of her bed, facing me. I can’t help but smile as I take in her prim pose. Her legs are crossed at the ankles and her hands are clasped in her lap. She looks like she’s got a pole up her back keeping her posture perfect. I’d say a stick up her ass, but I don’t want to think of anything being in her perfect ass except my cock. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone sit so straight. My back hurts just watching.

“It’s not dinner time yet,” she tells me.

Glancing at my watch, I notice it’s five o’clock. “It’s close enough. Do you have to wait until a specific time to eat?” Is she that obsessed with staying on schedule that she won’t eat until the clock hits a certain time? I hope not because that would be...sad. Food is one of life’s greatest pleasures and it’s meant to be enjoyed, much like sex. Sex and food are two of my favorite things. Football and fighting would be on that list too. And now, Carter. She’s definitely one of my favorite things. She might be moving higher on that short list soon.

She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “No, not at all. It’s just early to eat dinner when I don’t have snacks to keep my hunger at bay for the rest of the night.”

Snacks? Now, she’s speaking my language. In fact, this might be the equivalent of talking dirty to me. “Don’t worry about snacks. I’ve got that covered.” I smirk as I think about the handful of Hershey bars and can of cashews I threw in my duffel bag when I was packing. I also stashed some condoms in the inside pocket, but that’s probably wishful thinking on my part. She’s wound so tight, I’ll be lucky if I get to kiss those sweet lips of hers anytime soon.

“You brought snacks with you?” she questions.

“Of course. I’m a growing boy and I get hungry,” I reply, rubbing my hand over my stomach. Her eyes follow the motion before jerking up to meet mine. I smirk knowingly. It’s obvious this attraction goes both ways. She won’t admit it, but I can tell she wants me as much as I want her. Sliding my hand under my shirt, I raise the material and pretend to scratch an itch while watching her for any sign of reaction. Her gaze locks on my bare skin, remaining on my defined abdominal muscles until I clear my throat. “You look hungry.”

She flushes with embarrassment, knowing she’s been caught ogling the goods. The way her cheeks turn pink makes me want to say outrageous things on a regular basis, so I can watch it happen repeatedly.

“I could eat,” she replies, softly and damn if I don’t get a little twitchin’ in my britches. Her words conjure up images of her kneeling before me and I can’t wait until my depraved thoughts are a reality. It’s only a matter of time.

Sitting up, I swing my legs to the floor and face her. “What do you want to eat?”

She visibly swallows and if her eyes get any larger they might overtake her face. “Why does everything you say sound so dirty?” she questions and then covers her mouth.

“No, no. No take backs. Once you say it, it’s out there, Candy. I think that you have a dirty mind. Maybe you just want me to talk dirty to you.” I smile when I notice her flush. “Is that what you want? Because I’m more than happy to give you...whatever you want.”

“See,” she points at me.

“See what?” I ask, innocently.

She narrows her eyes. “You just did it again.”

“Did what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shrug with my hands raised palm up.

“You just did a dramatic pause to make your comment sound suggestive.”

I chuckle. “I think you’re imagining it because you want me to talk dirty to you.”

“I’m not imagining it,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“If you want me to whisper dirty words in your ear, all you have to do is ask. Hell, I’ll strip naked and shout them if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to shout anything.”

“So, you’d prefer me to talk dirty quietly?”

She clenches her teeth together and growls. “I prefer you don’t talk at all.”

I flash her a pretend wounded look, dropping my chin to my chest.

She sighs loudly. “I’m sorry, Nick. That wasn’t very nice of me to say.”

My head snaps up and I grin. “I’m just messing with ya. It takes a lot more than that to shut me up.”

She rolls her eyes and rises to her feet. “Let’s go get dinner then. You can’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.”

“How’s practice been going man?” I question, Noah. Carter was adamant that we invite Reagan and Noah to dinner. I’m sure she feels awkward to be spending so much time together when we barely know each other. But I’m going to imagine that it’s because she can barely control herself when we’re alone.

He nods his head. “I think I’m right on track. Everything has been going well since we’ve been here.”

“He’s been doing awesome,” Reagan jumps in.

“You always think that, Ray.” He smiles down at her. With the way the two of them are looking at each other it feels as though Carter and I are intruding on a private moment.

“Have you had time to do any sightseeing?” Carter questions, ending the awkward moment.

“No, not really. We’ve pretty much seen the inside of the gym they’ve been training at and our hotel room. Such is the life of a fighter’s girlfriend,” Reagan answers with a shrug. “Hey, what floor is your room on?”

“Nine,” Carter and I answer simultaneously.

“You’re both on nine?”

Carter looks at me, a panicked expression on her face. I smirk, remaining quiet. I want to watch her squirm her way through this.

“Um, I uh. I uh don’t know what happened.”

Reagan cocks her eyebrow. “You don’t know what happened to what?”

“My reservation. They couldn’t find me in the system.” Her fingers fidget, shredding the edge of the paper napkin under her mojito. “And they didn’t have any more available rooms.”

“Oh my God. What are you going to do? Do you want to stay with us?”

My gaze moves to Noah and I see his jaw clench. I know he’s not getting any right now. He won’t fuck during the time leading up to a fight. It makes his legs weak or some shit like that, but I’m sure he’s still keeping his girlfriend happy while he abstains. Carter rooming with them will never happen. I bite back the smile that wants to let loose.

“Um, uh.”

Glancing at Carter in the chair next to mine, I watch as she struggles for words. It’s so painful to watch, I find myself cutting in. “I offered her the other bed in my room and she agreed. So, yes, we’re both on the ninth floor. What floor are you guys on?”

“We’re on the eighth floor. Room eight twenty-six.”

“We’re in nine sixty-nine,” I say, keeping my expression serious this time. Reagan might kick me in the balls if she knew what my intentions were when it comes to her sister. After all she did already warn me to stay away from her the night she and Noah got engaged.

“Well, I’m glad you had the extra bed. It would have sucked if you couldn’t stay at the same hotel as us. We’d never get to spend any time together.”

“Yeah, it was a lucky break how it all worked out,” I smirk. Carter kicks the side of my foot under the table. “Ow, what did you do that for?” I say, calling her out.

Her eyes narrow and her lips tighten. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Our waitress arrives with a large tray of food balanced on her arm cutting off any further replies and the scent of our meals has my mouth watering. She passes out our plates and makes sure we have everything we need before she departs.

Conversation is nonexistent as we all dig in. The silence around the table is punctuated by sighs and groans as we devour our meals. Casting a side glance at Carter I notice her closing her eyes as she takes a bite of her lasagna. Fuck. I want to see her make that exact face when she sucks my cock for the first time. I’m confident enough in our chemistry that we’ll get to that point and it won’t just be one time. If I have my way, we’ll be more than fuck buddies, but I know that she’s skittish after what she’s been through with her ex. He’s a dumb ass to have let her go. I’m smart enough to recognize that I’ve never felt a connection with anyone else like I do with her and I want to ride it out and see where it takes us. Maybe if she spends enough time with me she’ll realize I’m nothing like her ex and she’ll be willing to give me a chance.

The restaurant is located in the hotel, which is great for convenience, but not so much for keeping Carter occupied. When we reach the lobby, I pause. “What are you two planning on doing now? Do you want to walk around a little and check out the area?” I address Noah and Reagan.

Noah rubs the back of his neck. “Nah, man. I think we’ll pass. I need to meet with Jimmy soon and I want to take it easy tonight.”

I hold my fist out and he bumps it. “I hear you, bro. Anything we need to be around for tomorrow?”

“Nah, it’s just more gym time and some meet and greets with some fans. We can meet up later though.”

“Sounds good.”

Carter and Reagan share a hug and say their goodbyes. She stares after her sister and future brother in law as they head toward the elevator.

“What do you say we take a walk and see what trouble we can find?” I ask.

“I’m all for walking, but hold the trouble. That’s not really my thing.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Nick

CATCHING CARTER’S HAND, I move toward the main exit, pulling her along with me. I don’t give her a chance to change her mind, quickly passing through the automatic doors with her in tow. Once we’re on the sidewalk I slow my pace, still holding her hand. To my surprise she doesn’t try to tug away from my grasp and I enjoy the way her small fingers feel slotted between mine. Her palm is soft, and feels natural, as if we’ve done this hundreds of times before.

Our stride is leisurely, as if we have all the time in the world. We maneuver in and out of the other pedestrians as one. We’re already in sync and we haven’t even begun to explore this powerful connection between us.

We both come to a halt at the same time, staring at the front of Madison Square Garden. There’s an image of Noah and his opponent Mark Sanchez on the rectangular sign on the exterior of the building. It’s enormous, almost the same height as the building itself.

“Woah,” Carter sighs, her eyes trekking the length all the way to the top. She releases my hand and pulls her phone out, taking pictures of the sign. Next, she takes a selfie with Noah in the background. “I wonder if Reagan has seen this yet? She must have, right?” she mutters to herself as she texts the pic to her sister.

“Unfucking real,” I chuckle. “My boy is famous.”

“My sister is engaged to someone who’s pic is on the outside of Madison Square Garden. I can’t believe I’ve known him since he barely had facial hair.”

“That’s right. You’ve known Noah for a long time. I forgot about that,” I say, reaching into my front pocket, for my phone as I listen to her.

“Yeah, but I didn’t live in Boston for most of those years since I was away at college. I didn’t really get the opportunity to know him very well. It’s only in the past couple of months since I’ve moved back that I have. But he makes my little sister happier than I’ve ever seen her so that’s all that matters to me.”

I take a pic of the building size image of my friend, before replying. “She makes him just as happy.” Her head swivels until our eyes meet. Hers appear an icy blue against the city backdrop. “Come here,” I urge. She slides over next to me as we face away from the building. Slinging my arm around her shoulders, I pull her close and take a selfie of the two of us. “One more. This time, smile.” Pressing my cheek to hers, an obnoxiously large smile spreads across my mouth as I take the picture. Glancing down at the image, I grin. We look great together if I do say so myself. “Here, text the pic to yourself,” I order, handing her my phone. She types quickly and returns it to me. Nice work. I congratulate myself. I have her phone number now.

“How do you feel about grabbing a drink?” I question, slipping my phone away once again.

“I’m up for a beverage or two; it’s not even dark yet. I’m not ready to head back to the hotel yet,” she says, with a frown.

“What’s the matter? Why don’t you want to be back there? You know I’d never try to do something inappropriate, right?” Staring down at her, my expression is serious. I’m all for having a good time and joking around, but I hope she knows, without a doubt, that I’m not going to jump her once we’re inside the room.

“I don’t know why, but hotel rooms always make me feel claustrophobic. You’re stuck in one room with nowhere to go.” She rubs the back of one hand over her forehead, while I give the one I’m still holding a gentle squeeze.

“How about we stay busy until you’re ready to return? I’m not in a rush to get back and we are in one of the greatest cities in the world, second to Boston of course.” I flash her a quick grin.

She nods her head and smiles. “Okay, I like that idea.”

Glancing around, I search the immediate area for a bar that looks appealing. “Come on. Let’s walk this way a little more and see what we can find.” We stroll along for another block before we come to a pub that looks like my kind of place. Dimly lit and tucked between two buildings, it has a certain charm. And by charm, I mean it looks like the glasses will have lipstick and fingerprints on them even after they’ve been washed.

“This looks like as good a place as any,” I say directing her to the entrance. Tugging the silver handle, I open the door and gesture for her to go first. “After you, Candy.”

She rolls her eyes at my nickname as she steps inside. “Are you sure about this place?” she questions.

My eyes scan the small, dark bar. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

“Perfect? Perfect for what? A bar fight? Someone to get knifed without anyone noticing?”

“Nothing wrong with a good bar brawl. But I wouldn’t know anything about those,” I say, with a smirk.

“You do realize I’ve seen the footage of the fight you and Noah were in, right?” she questions.

Oh shit. I never imagined that Carter would be the type to watch videos on YouTube. But, I guess since the video involved her famous future brother in law getting into a fight in a Boston bar, then she would be inclined to watch. I just happened to be out with Noah at the time and of course I had my boy’s back. I couldn’t sit there and let him handle three guys all by himself, even though I know he could. But that fight happened over a year ago, so when did she watch it?

“When did you see the video?” My eyes narrow as I study her expression.

She chews on her bottom lip, avoiding eye contact.

Our hands still connected, I nudge her arm with my elbow. “Hey, I’m just curious.” I don’t want her to think it’s a big deal that she saw it. I’m only curious because if she watched it before we met at the engagement party then she might have known who I was when she kissed me.

Her eyes meet mine. “I watched it last week. Reagan was talking about the fight and I didn’t know what she was referring to. She couldn’t believe I’d never seen it.” She shrugs. “I don’t really follow social media. Even when someone in my family is famous.”

I don’t know why, but I’m relieved that she didn’t know who I was when she kissed me.

Maybe it’s because it’s a stroke to my ego; she wanted me so bad she couldn’t control herself.

I like that she’s not manipulating and controlling. The situations we’ve found ourselves in have been spontaneous and not orchestrated. I can’t imagine Carter plotting out ways to get a guy to talk to her. First of all, she’s fucking hot. Any guy would want to talk to her. But, she’s not the type to put herself out there. When you combine her naturally shy nature with her past relationship baggage it makes her even more hesitant. She’s got walls that are so fucking high, I’ll be lucky if I can find a way around them.

“Who are you?” I joke.

“What do you mean?”

“You might be the only girl I know who doesn’t like social media.” Her cheeks flush enough that I notice in the dim bar lighting. “Hey, that’s not something to be embarrassed about. It’s a good thing. I like that you don’t place too much importance on that stuff.”

“I’ve got bigger things on my mind.”

“Let’s grab some seats and you can tell me all about what occupies your head space.” Leading her to two vacant stools on the farthest end of the bar, we both sink down on the wooden seats. “What would you like to drink?” I ask, watching as her eyes dart along the bottles lined up on the mirrored wall.

“I’d love a shot.”

“What kind?” I lean toward her.

She purses her lips together while she mulls over her choices. “I want an Irish Car Bomb.”

What the fuck?

I wasn’t expecting that. I figured she’d order something fruity and weak, not a drink made with Guinness, Bailey’s and Irish whiskey.

“Four Irish Car Bombs, please,” I tell the bartender, before smiling at Carter. “Candy, you never fail to surprise me.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Well, it’s definitely not bad. You keep me on my toes and I don’t know many people who do. I like it.”

The bartender places the four shots down in front of us. Pushing two toward Carter, I pick up both of mine. “Here’s to being single, drinking double and seeing triple.”

Carter giggles at my toast. Touching the edge of one of my glasses to hers I nod and we both knock back the first shot. Immediately, we both drink down the second ones and slam our glasses on the bar simultaneously. “More?” I question, my eyebrow raised.

“Yes, please.”

Gesturing to the bartender, I hold up four fingers and return my attention to Carter. “So, you mentioned having bigger things on your mind. Were you referring to me?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her until it incites a laugh. God, I love to make her happy. “Or were you referring to actual adult problems?”

“I’m sorry to damage your enormous ego, but I meant the latter.”

“What’s worrying you, Candy? Tell Daddy Nick.”

She snorts and covers her mouth. “You did not just say that.”

“Oh, I did. Want me to say it again? Slower maybe?”

“Noooo. Don’t ever use the word daddy in a sexual way again. That’s just...yuck.” She shivers in disgust.

“Okay. Daddy is a hard limit for you. What else is?”

“Wait. What? How did we go from you asking what’s worrying me to inquiring about my sexual limits?”

“What can I say? I’m an expert at navigating the rough seas of getting to know someone. Watch out. You never know what I might get you to reveal.”

The bartender places our shots down. Nudging my arm into hers, I say, “come on. What do you want to drink to?”

She smirks mischievously. “Here’s to being single, drinking double, sleeping triple and having multiples.”

I’m still staring at her in surprise when she knocks back the first shot. She smiles just before the second glass slots between her shiny, pink lips.

Raising my own glass to my mouth, I drink them down in quick succession. Sliding the empty glasses toward the inner edge of the bar, I lean my arms on the wooden surface. “I like your version of that toast better.”

She flushes sweetly and drums her fingernails on the bar.

“Let’s get back to our discussion on your hard limits.”

Her head snaps around and our gazes lock.

“You didn’t think I was going to let that drop, did you?” My tone’s laced with amusement.

“I was hoping you would.” I like her candidness.

“This conversation could be a great way to get to know each other better.”

“I don’t really see a reason that you’d need to know what my limits are.”

“Oh, I disagree.” Sliding my hand over, I trail a fingertip down the warm skin of her forearm and over the back of her hand. “It’s only a matter of time before you and I will be naked and horizontal...vertical works too. I’m open to either. Naked is the important part.”

“Are you delusional?” she questions with wide eyes.

“No, I’m Nick.” I hold my hand out for her to shake. “Are you already drunk?”

“Shut up. You know what I mean.” She slaps my hand away.

“No, I don’t. I think you’re the delusional one. You think that all this sexual tension between us is just going to go away.” Leaning over, I run my nose along the curve of her ear. “It’s not,” I tell her, my lips below her ear.

She shivers, and I smile triumphantly.

“We’ll see,” she says, playing it cool. She can pretend all she wants that we’re not destined to end up naked between the sheets. It’s happening whether she tries to deny it or not.

“How do you feel about kissing?” I ask, starting with an easy question. I need to ease her into this conversation.

“I love kissing.”

“What about cuddling?”

“I love to cuddle. Do you?”

“Do I cuddle?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d be the king of cuddling if I had someone to cuddle with.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t cuddle?”

“No, I’m saying I never have. I’ve never had anyone I wanted to cuddle with before. Are you volunteering to pop my cuddling cherry?”

CHAPTER NINE

Carter

IMAGES of us wrapped around each other in the hotel room bed flood my mind.

Say no. No. No. No.

“I guess I could...if you want to.”

What the hell? Where did that come from?

He smiles like the wolf he is, luring me closer with his perfect white teeth and sparkling hazel eyes. I know I should keep my distance, but my brain seems to short circuit around him. My head has a different plan for me than my body does.

“How do you feel about being on top?” he continues as if this is an ordinary line of questioning.

“I don’t love it.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like being so naked in front of someone.” How can I say that being on top makes me self-conscious without it being weird?

“Having sex does mean a certain lack of clothing is necessary. Unless you want to cut a hole in a sheet and keep it between us,” he chuckles, resting his hand over mine on the bar. He leans close, invading my space. “And by the way, if that is your hang up, it wouldn’t stop me from wanting to fuck you.”

I sigh and shake my head. “That isn’t my ‘hang up,’” I say, making air quotes. Now I feel as though I need to explain or he’s going to think I’m sexually repressed. “I just don’t like being on top because it makes me self-conscious about my body.” Oh shit. Why am I telling him all these things? What is it about Nick that makes me reveal these truths that I don’t even like thinking about?

His eyes slowly look me over, lowering and hovering over my chest. The heat in his gaze has me flushing. The outside of his thigh presses into mine. I squeeze my legs together looking for relief, but it’s no use. There’s only one way to get any relief and it can’t happen.

“When we have sex, you’re going to ride my cock like you’re the last cowgirl on earth.”

I giggle at his ridiculous statement. “Cowgirl?” I tip my head and raise an eyebrow. “When we have sex? Aren’t you a cocky bastard?”

“Yep I am, get used to it.” His dimple teases the left corner of his mouth with a slanted smile. “How do you feel about role playing? Yee haw or no go?” he continues, ignoring my reply.

“Did you pack a cowboy hat in that duffel bag of yours?” It wouldn’t surprise me to find out he had. Nothing should surprise me when it comes to Nick. I can’t seem to get a handle on what makes him tick. Every time I think he’ll do or say one thing, he does the opposite. He told me I keep him on his toes, but he makes my stomach roll like I’m balancing on the edge of a giant cliff.

“Not this time, but I do have a genuine cowboy hat that my godfather purchased for me on a trip to Texas. We can play with that some other time. So, do you like role playing then?”

“I’ve never done any. I’d give it a try, I guess.” I surprise myself with my honest answer.

“How do you feel about oral sex?”

“Giving or receiving?”

“Receiving,” he answers, his eyes burning into mine.

I swallow slowly. Thinking of him going down on me excites me more than I want to admit to myself. “I’ve only had someone do that a few times.”

“Your ex?”

“Yeah. He didn’t really like to, and I didn’t want to ask for something that he didn’t want to do.”

“Did you give him blow jobs?”

My eyes travel around the bar, looking at anything, but Nick. “Yes.”

“How often?”

“That’s a personal question, Nick.” His name feels erotic leaving my lips.

“I know it is, but humor me and answer, please.”

The please has me responding. “I gave him a blow job whenever he asked or whenever I wanted to.”

“And he didn’t feel inclined to return the favor?”

“Nope.”

“He’s a selfish piece of shit then. Did he at least make you come?”

“No.”

“Not usually?” he questions.

I shake my head. “Not ever,” I whisper, humiliated.

“Whoa, wait a minute. Are you saying you’ve never had an orgasm?”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’ve had one?”

“Mhm.”

“But, not with him?”

“Not with him.”

“How many guys have you slept with?”

“That’s another personal question. Are you going to tell me how many girls you’ve slept with?”

“Twelve and you can consider yourself the future lucky thirteen.”

“Oh. Well, I’m at ten less than you. Can we talk about something less invasive?”

“Candy, I know all these questions are personal. Isn’t that the point when you care enough to get to know someone?”

“I guess, but we’re doing this backwards. Shouldn’t we be starting with the easy ones like what’s your favorite color or what’s your middle name?”

“The blue of your eyes and Malcolm.”

“Malcolm is your middle name?”

“Yep. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. It’s better than Aaron.” I snort.

“Ha-ha aren’t you a funny little thing.” His fingers briefly dig into my side tickling me and I squirm on the bar stool.

“Where do you go to school?” I question, breathless from batting his hands away from my sides.

“I’m a senior at Boston University.”

“Nice. Do you like school?”

“I like some parts of it and others not so much. Living in Boston can’t be beat and the area that B.U. is in has so much to offer. I love playing on the football team and I enjoy learning. I don’t like some of the classes that I’m required to take, but that’s life.” He places his warm hand on my arm. “Now back to you. What are you going to do now that you’re in Boston?”

“I’m starting dental school at B.U. second semester.”

“Doctor Collins. I like it.” he pumps his brows up and down suggestively. “What’s your middle name?”

“Olivia.”

“Carter Olivia Collins.” He smiles. “Nice. Your initials spell out cock.”

“Um, no they don’t.”

“I think they do and that’s what I’m going with.” He tips his head in my direction with a grin on his masculine lips.

Rolling my eyes at him, I flag down the bartender. There might not be enough alcohol in this place to help me handle Nick. Give me a staid, mature, predictable guy and I’m set. Nick, embodies the opposite of those traits and I’m out of my element.

The walk back to the hotel is a lot rougher than the walk to the bar. Nick’s arm around my shoulders helps to keep me upright and travelling in the right direction. My legs are unsteady beneath me and my stomach is filled with liquor sloshing around. “You need to feed me,” I tell him as we continue along.

“Is that your way of saying you’re hungry?”

“Yep. Feed me dammit,” I say in a serious tone but end up laughing by the time the words are out.

Pulling his phone out of his front pocket, he scrolls with his thumb, before holding his phone up to his ear. “Hi, this is room nine sixty-nine. I’d like to order room service. We’ll take an order of chicken tenders, extra honey mustard, quesadillas, potato skins, two sodas and two slices of cherry pie.”

When his call ends, he slips his phone back into his pocket and looks down at me. “How’s that for a snack?”

“You ordered everything I like. Have you been stalking me?” I must be buzzed. I’m not usually this direct with men.

“No, I haven’t, but I bet stalking you would be fun.” He taps the tip of my nose with his index finger. “I’m sure I’d learn all kinds of interesting things, but I’d rather put in the work and get to know you.”

My stomach flutters and this time it’s from his sweet words and not the alcohol.

The hotel lobby is quiet as we enter and make our way to the elevator. The ride up to our floor is punctuated by the sounds of my stomach growling and churning. Nick chuckles next to me and my eyes squeeze shut in humiliation. “You weren’t kidding about needing to be fed.”

My eyes open and find him grinning at me. Embarrassed at the ungodly sounds my stomach continues to make, I shrug and don’t answer.

“Aw, Candy, don’t be embarrassed. I like a girl with a healthy appetite.” There he goes with his sexual innuendos again.

When the steel doors part I jet out and head down the hallway like the Flash. Racing along in front of him seemed like a good idea until I got to the door and he wasn’t even halfway down the hallway. Now I’m standing here rocking back and forth on my feet feeling more awkward than ever.

He steps up next to me and slides the key card into the slot. His large masculine hand capably grips the handle. Watching him makes me wonder what else his hands can do.

Gesturing for me to go in front of him, I move inside our room and over to the drawers that contain my clothes. Pulling out a pair of boxers and a tank top, my pajamas of choice, I focus on making my way to the bathroom. Once inside, I strip off my clothes and step into the shower. Washing off the stale smell of the bar that permeated my clothes and hair, already has me feeling better.

Nick’s voice travels through the door as he talks to someone. Our food must be here. My stomach grumbles once more to let me know it’s on board with the plan to eat.

Drying off as fast as I can, I put my pj’s on and run a comb through my wet hair. Glancing in the mirror, my eyes run over the black tank top I have on. It’s not too revealing, but I’d feel a lot better if I had a long t-shirt that covered more of me. The plaid boxers I’m wearing are an old pair of Joseph’s. He’s leanly muscular and of average height so the fit isn’t too bad. Tugging them down lower on my hips helps me to feel less exposed. The length is respectable, and my inner thighs don’t show.

A cloud of steam follows me from the bathroom as I enter the cooler temperature of the air-conditioned space. Nick’s removing plates and food from the room service tray and placing them on the small table in front of the windows. He’s pulled the curtains open so we can see the lights of the city around us. I walk over, pausing in front of the large half wall of glass. The view is as impressive and captivating as I’ve always imagined it would be.

“Is this your first time in New York City?”

I nod as I step back and sit down in the chair he’s pulled out for me. “Is it that obvious?” I question, glancing over my shoulder at him as he rounds to the other side of the table.

“No, it hasn’t been. At least not until now. You look pretty awestruck though.” He takes the seat across from me and our eyes meet briefly, before my gaze returns to the city.

“I am. I’ve been looking at Boston my whole life, but this is different. It’s bigger and more...I don’t know.” I shake my head. “Overwhelming. It’s like everything is closer here and crammed together, each building fighting for space.” Pressing my hand against the cool glass, the buildings seem close enough to reach out and touch.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s great, but I definitely prefer the historical charm of Boston.”

“Where did you grow up?” I question, spreading the white napkin evenly across my lap.

“Cohasset.”

“So, you’re a south shore boy,” I reply, cutting up a chicken tender.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“It means the world for you exists south of Braintree.”

“The south shore of Massachusetts does have a lot to offer.” He winks.

“Are you including yourself in that statement?”

“I wasn’t, but I am from there as you just pointed out.”

“You’re obviously Irish, although with the last name Carter I wasn’t sure.”

“Uh,” he coughs. “Here’s the thing. Carter isn’t really my last name.”

“It’s not?” I dunk a piece of chicken in the honey mustard, and raise the fork to my lips.

“No. I made the reservation under Nick Carter as a joke. When you heard me say it, I just played along for fun.”

“What’s your real last name then?”

“O’Shea.”

“I like that a lot better than Carter.”

“You don’t like your name?” He deftly cuts up a potato skin and shovels half into his mouth in one bite.

“I like it, just not for me. It’s better as a boy’s name.”

“I don’t know. I think Carter fits you, but I still think of you as Candy.” He smirks, reminding me of the first time he called me that. A heated flush washes over me at the memory of his tongue tasting the skin along the top of my breasts.

“Does anyone call you Nicholas?” I ask, hoping to get my mind off his tongue.

“My father does. Nicholas, when are you going to give up your silly hobby?” he questions in a stiff voice.

“What hobby would that be?” I ask, picking up my napkin and wiping the corner of my lip.

“Fighting,” he mumbles, before taking a large bite of chicken.

“He doesn’t approve?”

He pauses with his fork midair. “No. He’d like all my focus to be on football. He wants me to make the NFL and then go into business with him someday.”

“What do you want?” I question, reaching for the bottle of soda.

“I love football, but I don’t want to play professionally. Fighting is something that I’m passionate about, but I’m just getting started. I’ve only had a few smaller fights, but I loved it. I really want to keep training and see what happens.”

I swallow an ice-cold mouthful of liquid. “So, why don’t you?”

“You make it sound so much easier than it is in my mind.” He stares down at his plate as he spears another piece of chicken onto his fork and pops it in his mouth.

“It’s not like you have to make the decision right now, right?”

“No.” He shakes his head, reaching for his drink. “Football practices will be starting once we’re back home and this will be my final season with the Terriers. By the time it’s over, I’m hoping to have made a solid decision about my future.” He cracks the cap, twisting it off. The expelling air leaves the bottle with a loud hiss before he takes a large gulp.

“What kind of business does your father have?”

“Real Estate development.”

“Is that something you could see yourself doing?”

“I’m not sure. Business Administration is my major and I’m taking some cross functional courses on Real Estate. I like the idea of carrying on the family business since it was started by my great grandfather almost one hundred years ago, but I’m not sure that I’ll enjoy doing it day in and day out.”

The conversation recedes as we both continue to devour the delicious food. Between the shower I took and my full stomach, I’m feeling less buzzed and almost completely sober by the time I move on to the slice of cherry pie he ordered for me.

“I’m going to enjoy dessert while I relax,” I say, sliding my chair back. Picking up the plate, a fork and my drink, I make my way to the bed I chose earlier today. Placing the soda down on the table, I flip the covers back and slip between the sheets. My back rests against the padded headboard as I balance the small plate in my lap while taking bites of pie.

“This is so good.”

Nick rises from his chair and before I realize what he’s doing, his jeans are sliding down his muscular legs. He kicks them off, catching the denim material in the air and then places them over the back of the chair he was sitting in. He grabs his plate and soda, walking between the two beds.

“Push over, please.”

What?

“Slide over for me,” he gestures with his head.

I’m not sure why, but I find myself doing as he asked until I’m propped up against the headboard on the other side of the bed.

Nick picks up the remote from the nightstand and turns the large television on, flipping through the channels so quickly, my eyes can’t keep up. Every time I see a show I like, he switches to another one before I can react. It doesn’t help that I drank so many shots. I might not be feeling as buzzed as earlier, but my reflexes are still somewhat delayed.

Focusing on my pie, I eat every bite on my plate and chug the rest of my soda down.

He finally settles on an episode of Impractical Jokers, which happens to be one of my favorite shows.

“Here, let me take your plate for you,” he says, holding out his hand.

Passing everything to him, I lower my pillows to the mattress and lie down on my back. My stomach is full, and I’m relaxed from my shower and all the drinks we had at the bar.

His head turns in my direction. “Are you going to sleep on me, Candy?”

Smiling sleepily with my eyes closed, I nod. “Mhm.”

Hearing dishes clanging together and the click of the lamp being shut off, I imagine what he’s doing.

Is he going to get in his own bed now?

An arm around my waist, tugging me in his direction answers my unspoken question. “Get over here, Candy. You have some cherry popping to do.”

Oh no.

I can’t cuddle with Nick. He’s too...hot, sexy, too...everything for me.

“Don’t even think about it.” His voice is a deep rumble beside my ear.

“Think about what?” I squeak out.

“Sneaking out of this bed, tonight. I want to wake up with you in my arms. If you’re going to pop my cherry you need to do it right.”

“I think you’d be more comfortable in your own bed. I’m a restless sleeper.”

“Then it’s a good thing I plan on holding you tight all-night long.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” My voice sounds funny to my own ears as I turn over to my left side.

“This is the best idea I’ve had in a long time,” he says, flipping over so his front is pressed to my back, his arm slung around me. His large palm blazes my skin, burning through the thin material as if he’s touching my bare stomach.

Squeezing my eyes shut even tighter, I breath as shallow as I can, trying to avoid any unnecessary contact with his muscular body.

His face lowers to my hair and he inhales deeply. “Your hair smells good, Candy.” He places a kiss on the top of my head. “Get some sleep. You’re safe with me.”

“I know.” My lips curl into a gentle smile as I allow myself to relax in his arms. Nick might make me nervous, but it’s not because I don’t trust him. I know he’d never do anything to put my safety at risk or to push me to do more than I’m comfortable with. In fact, being in his arms is better than I imagined. The smile remains on my lips as I fall into the deepest sleep I’ve had in months.

CHAPTER TEN

Nick

WATCHING Carter try to wiggle and worm her way out of my arms is a great way to wake up. If she could sink straight through the mattress and come out under the bed she would. Observing her through slitted eyelids, I suck my bottom lip between my teeth to hold in my laughter. She’s more entertaining than anyone I’ve ever known. When she’s around there’s never a dull moment and that’s important to me. It’s not easy to be the life of the party all the time. She doesn’t expect me to be. It’s a nice change of pace, because sometimes I feel like a circus monkey performing for my friends. Make me laugh, Nick. Tell a joke, Nick. Tell me that story about the time you...insert any of the ridiculous things I’ve done in my teenage years. But Carter doesn’t know anything about my past. She doesn’t know that side of me, other than what I’ve allowed her to see. For the first time in a long time, someone is finally getting to know me for who I am as a person and not Nick the football player or party animal.

When she’s free of the bed, I close my lids. She pauses, and I can feel her ice blue eyes staring at me. Is she regretting leaving the comfortable haven? I hope so. I wish I’d gotten a chance to feel her ass against my morning wood. I would’ve pretended to be “asleep” and she would have done the same, allowing me to enjoy the moment even more. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow morning.

I relax, watching television and dozing on and off until she comes out of the bathroom. She’s freshly showered, and the scent of her soap is driving me mad. Or maybe it’s her shampoo. Whichever one it is it smells like coconut and fruit. I’m hungry as fuck for a taste.

Glancing at her in the short towel has my dick standing at attention. Bending over to choose some clothes in the dresser drawers, she has me expelling a groan. Her ass up position has the towel resting just below the bottom of her cheeks. I know the skin along those two curves would be so warm and soft on my tongue. Damn. I hope she doesn’t turn around and look this way because there’s no hiding the tent I’m pitching now.

She eases the drawer slowly closed and creeps on the tips of her toes like something out of a movie. All that’s missing is the music to add a more dramatic feel to the moment.

When she exits the bathroom, her hair is dry, and she’s completely dressed. I was hoping she’d forget her bra or panties at the very least. No such luck, but she does look sexy in her cut off shorts and a fitted white t-shirt. I can’t see what her shirt says and since I want to get a closer look and another whiff of her delicious scent, I call her over.

She moves toward me, pausing beside my side of the bed. “What does your shirt say?” I question noticing the picture of the smiling tooth in the middle.

“Dentists have fillings too.”

I chuckle. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing?”

She rolls her eyes. “It was a gift for my birthday. I’m just trying to be nice by wearing it.”

My eyes scan over her shirt, noticing how faded the black writing is. This is not the first time she’s worn this. She obviously likes it and that makes my chest swell with pride because I’m the person who gave her this gift. I didn’t put my name on the tag because I went to that party with every intention of making sure we got a proper introduction and that we’d share an improper kiss. I imagined once I’d done that, she’d avoid any present I’d chosen. I figured if she knew it was from me, she’d never let herself wear it.

I love humorous t-shirts and have since I was a little kid. I have an extensive collection and I even shoved a couple into my duffel bag for this trip. I might have to break one out today, so we can match. I bet she’ll just love that. The corners of my lips creep to a smirk just thinking about it.

She bolts out of the way when I sit up, flipping the covers back. Rising to my feet, I tug my t-shirt over my head and drop it on the bed.

“Wh...what are you d...doing?” she stutters.

“Getting naked.” My hands move to the elastic waistband. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You can’t get naked in front of me,” she shrieks, holding her hands out in front of her palms up.

I drop my boxer briefs to the floor. Her hands cover her eyes while a gasp of surprise leaves her lips. “Really? Because here I am, naked and you know you want to see.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Okay, your loss, Candy. I’m going to take my shower now.” I pass by where she’s standing, her hands still over her eyes. When I’m three steps beyond her, I glance in the mirror on the wall and notice her hands slide down her cheeks, uncovering her eyes. She checks my ass out ogling it unabashedly until she catches my eye in the mirror. I wink, enjoying the way she turns a bright shade of pink, averting her gaze just before I enter the bathroom.

“Why won’t you tell me what’s on the agenda for today?” she asks when we step through the automatic doors of the hotel onto the sidewalk.

“Why won’t you let me surprise you?” I question back, slipping my favorite Boston University Terriers cap on my head.

“Surprises make me nervous,” she murmurs, her head buried in the bag hanging over her shoulder. She searches until she finds her pink mirrored shades, slipping them over her beautiful blues depriving me of seeing them for the time being.

“This is a fun surprise, I promise. Just trust me. If there’s anything I know how to do well, it’s have fun.”

She nods her head. “Okay, but if I don’t have fun then we do what I want tomorrow without complaining.”

“Deal.” I hold my hand out until she reluctantly shakes mine. “Let’s go this way,” I say, directing her along beside me. Like last night, we head toward Madison Square Garden, only this time the late morning sun is shining bright and the streets are full of yellow cabs. The sidewalk is filled with pedestrians, making it difficult to proceed at a steady pace.

We continue past the bar we drank too many shots at the previous night, both of us enjoying the sounds of the city. We’ve lucked out with the weather. The humidity isn’t as high as I expected, and the temperature is below average for mid-July. After we’ve covered a few more blocks we come upon some street vendors selling wares. Spotting some t-shirts, I move toward them on automatic pilot. It’s an addiction for me.

“What about this?” Carter asks, holding up a blue one that says, The league should pay someone just to handle Tom’s balls. Does your mom need a job?

I laugh. “Candy, that’s perfect. Do you see one you want?”

“No, I think I’ll pass on the tees.”

“Okay, we’ll find something for you next.”

Once I’ve paid for my t-shirt, Carter shoves it down into the unknown depths of her bag and we move to the next cart to see what they’re selling. This one has mugs with names or initials. I spot one that says Candy and I know I need to buy it for her. When she’s on the other side of the display I quickly pay the ten dollars to the vendor before she wraps it in white paper and a small, black plastic bag.

When Carter comes back around to stand next to me, she holds her hand out for the bag. “I don’t want to make your bag heavy.”

“Nick, why do you think I brought this big thing?”

Handing her the package, I watch with amusement as half her arm disappears as she places it inside. We move on to the next cart, but there’s nothing we’re interested in, so we continue along the sidewalk, neither of us in search of anything in particular, but open to whatever might catch our eye. We’re together, the weather is gorgeous, we have all day to explore...today is full of endless possibilities.

“Are you thirsty?” I ask, ushering her through the door to a coffee shop.

“Yeah, I’d love an ice coffee, please.”

The line is short, and our drinks are in hand before we know it. She tries to slip money onto the counter before I do, but I catch her hand in mine. “Don’t insult me by trying to pay. I’ve got this.” She must see how serious I am because she smiles and nods before shoving the money in the front pocket on her shorts.

We return to our walk, choosing to take our drinks with us instead of staying indoors. Neither of us want to miss any moment we can be outside on this beautiful day.

After another block we come upon another vendor and this one sells leather wrist cuffs. Some of them are plain brown or black and some have designs pressed into them. Carter looks them over, taking her time. Her fingers trail over the distressed leather on a few, before she removes a brown one from the shelf, fastening it around her wrist. The design is Celtic and intricate. It looks like it belongs on her delicate arm.

“That looks great on you. Let me buy it.”

“No, I don’t want you to pay. I can purchase it myself.”

“I know you can, but just humor me, please. I’d really like to get this for you.”

Her teeth bite into her full bottom lip as she mulls it over.

“Come on. Don’t make a big deal out of this,” I urge.

“Okay, but no more presents or paying for things for me.”

“I won’t buy you any more presents, but I’m not going to promise I won’t treat you to lunch.”

“I have my own money.”

“I know you do, but I was taught to always pay for a woman, even if it’s not a date. As much of an asshole as my father can be when it comes to my future in MMA, he’s a great guy. He told me from the time I was old enough to talk that women were to be spoiled. He’s always bringing my mom gifts. Even if it’s the smallest thing, just to put a smile on her face.”

“That’s really sweet. My dad’s not really big on gift giving, but he does bring my mom flowers occasionally.”

I hand over a twenty-dollar bill and he gives me five back. I thank him, and we begin to stroll down the sidewalk again. We come to a small park between two buildings. If you can even call it that. It’s hardly more than a few benches, a fountain and some potted plants, but it will serve its purpose.

“Hey, let’s sit down for a few and finish our drinks,” I suggest.

“Sounds good to me.” We both sink down next to each other on the iron bench.

“Do you like getting flowers?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I’ve never gotten them before.”

“Your boyfriend never bought you flowers?”

“Nope, not once.”

“He sounds like an all-around piece of shit. He couldn’t make you come, he didn’t buy you flowers. What exactly did he do?”

She flushes at my brutally honest words. “Looking back, I’m not sure. I guess we were good friends more than anything.” She sips from her straw, her eyes darting around the crowd of people as they pass us by. “We were comfortable together. I thought that was a good thing. Little did I know, it wasn’t.”

“Wouldn’t being friends with your significant other be a good thing?” I ask.

“Yeah, normally it would, but I think we lost the attraction or passion - whatever you want to call it. All that remained was friendship and that’s not enough to build a life with someone. At least it wasn’t enough for him.”

“What about you? Would it have been enough?”

“Once upon a time I would have said yes, but I think my views were naive before everything that happened with Joseph. Now I know how important passion is and I’ll never underestimate the significance of it in a relationship again.” Her fingers brush over my chest unexpectedly making my pulse jump. “You had coffee on your shirt.”

“Thanks,” I say glancing down at my blue Patriots and Chill tee wishing more than anything that she was touching me because she wanted to...because she couldn’t help herself.

“What’s the longest amount of time you’ve ever had a girlfriend for?”

Shit. This isn’t going to go over well. “I’ve never really had a serious girlfriend.”

“Never?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone that I liked that much or couldn’t live without.”

“So all the girls you’ve slept with are just booty calls?”

“Some of them were, but some of them were girls I’m friends with and we used each other for sex.”

She scrunches her nose up. “I don’t think I could do that.”

“What? Have sex with a friend?”

“Yeah.”

“I think you’d be surprised if you tried it. And let me just say if you do ever want to give it a shot, I’m your guy.”

“You’ll take one for the team so to speak?”

“Hell yeah. No doubt about it.”

“I’ll keep you in mind, if I ever decide to give it a whirl.”

“Candy, you can give me a whirl any time you’d like.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Carter

“HOW ARE things with you and Nick?” Reagan, asks unexpectedly as we sort through racks of shirts at a clothing store about a block away from our hotel.

“What do you mean?” I question, not sure what she’s driving at.

“How is it sharing a room with him?”

I try not to think about the last two nights I’ve slept in his arms. Can she tell just by looking at me? “He’s chill and fun to hang out with,” I reply with a one shoulder shrug, aiming for a nonchalant tone of voice. I don’t know if she’ll fall for it.

“Chill and fun? Sounds like my big sis has a crush on someone.” Nope, she didn’t buy my indifferent act.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, holding up a green shirt in front of me.

“Come on. I could see the sparks between you guys at dinner the other night. I’d have to be blind to miss them.”

“I find him mildly annoying. I wouldn’t call that sparks.”

“If you say so.”

“Well I do. Nick’s just a friend and really, I can barely call him that. He’s just a guy I kind of know.”

“He’s ridiculously hot; even you have to admit that.”

“He’s attractive.” I press my lips together and nod.

“Are you getting that shirt?” she questions, gesturing at the short sleeved one in my hands.

“Should I?”

“Yes, it’s about damn time you bought something that’s not pink. And while you’re at it, get this one too,” she says, shoving a light blue one into my arms.

“Yes, ma'am. Someone’s bossy today.”

“I’m bossy every day,” she replies with a smile.

“Is that how you keep Noah in line?”

“No that’s all about bartering for sex.”

“It seems like everything’s about sex,” I say.

“If you’re not having it then you want to be. If you’re having it then you wish it was better or that you were having more of it.” Blowing my long bangs out of my eyes, I continue, “or you think everything’s fine and then your boyfriend sticks his dick in someone else.”

“Sex is definitely important and if you wish it was better then you’re not with the right person. Or you need to tell him what to do to make it better. But you can’t let Joseph ruin all guys for you. He’s just one dickhead in the big sea of eligible fish.”

“You mean in a sea of eligible dickheads,” I say, snorting at my own joke.

She looks at me pointedly. “I know he hurt you, but you need to put yourself out there and give another guy a chance. There are plenty of good ones.”

“Like Nick?” I ask, assuming she’s talking about him.

“God, no. I love Nick, but he’s not the kind of guy I’d want to see you with. He’s Mr. No Commitments and I don’t think that’s something that would work well for you.”

Her words echo through my thoughts as I mull them over. She didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know or anything that he hasn’t said himself, but they still send up a red flag. I need to be careful with Nick. He’s attractive and fun. I could easily get caught up in the excitement that having his attention brings and where would that leave me? I’ve already invested too much time in someone who wasn’t worth the effort. I can’t make the same mistake again.

After three solid hours of shopping and eating lunch at a small cafe, Reagan and I headed back to the hotel. Napping seemed like the best plan if I’m going to be able to make it through the reception we have to go to tonight. Reagan said I had to be there, that it was “non-negotiable.” She’s been really bossy lately or maybe she’s always been that way and I’m just realizing it.

My eyes flutter open at the sound of a door closing. Glancing at the alarm clock, I notice it’s six. Crap. My head hit the pillow at two and I don’t remember waking up at all during the hours in between. I guess my nap was needed.

“Hey sleepyhead. Did I wake you?” Nick says, catching sight of me under the covers.

“Yeah, but it’s all good. I needed to get up now anyway.” Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sit up as he sits down on the edge of the other bed.

“What did you guys do today?”

“We went shopping for hours. It was a nightmare.”

“You don’t like shopping?”

“I don’t mind shopping on the whole, but three hours of it is too much for me. And Reagan kept making me try on clothes. Getting undressed and dressed over and over is a pain in the butt.”

“I think I would have had a much better time if I’d gone with you than I did at the gym with Noah and Jimmy.”

My eyes trek over him, taking in his damp, ruffled hair. Sweaty looks good on him, but then again, what doesn’t?

“How’d it go?” I question.

“Great. Noah’s looking really strong. I think this will be a quick fight. Sanchez won’t make it out of the first or second round. That’s my prediction, anyway.”

“I hope you’re right and it goes that quick. I can’t imagine how nervous Reagan must get watching.”

“Will you come to my first game?”

“Your football game?”

“Yeah. You’ll also be a student at B.U. That gives you a vested interest in the football team that goes beyond us being friends.”

“I guess I could come watch. I’ve never been to a football game.”

“You’ve never been to a game? Not even when you were in high school? That’s unamerican.”

“No. I wasn’t really the social type and I was really focused on doing well in all my classes.”

“Will you get nervous watching me play?”

“Why would I get nervous?”

“Because you’ll want me to score a touchdown. Or maybe when you see me getting pummeled by some two-hundred-seventy-five-pound dude, you’ll be worried about me.”

I grimace at the picture his words paint in my mind. “I don’t know if I’d be worried, but I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’m indestructible. No need to worry about me, Candy.”

I don’t say anything to refute his cocksure stance. Instead, I ask, “are you going to shower?”

“Why?” Do you want to join me?” he fires back with a flirtatious grin.

“No. I want to know how much longer I can sleep before I need to get ready.”

I must have dozed back asleep while Nick was in the shower because I don’t remember anything until I feel the mattress sink down next to me and feel the back of his fingers caress over my cheek. “Hey, sleepyhead. It’s time to get ready.”

My eyes open unwillingly before fluttering shut again. “Do I really have to go? I’d rather stay here,” I mumble into my pillow.

“Come on. We’ll have a great time,” he urges.

“That’s debatable. I think I’d rather watch a movie and order room service.”

“Do you doubt my socialization skills? I promise that you’ll have a good time. I’ll make it my priority to make sure you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I suck at gatherings. I’m awkward and meeting new people stresses me out.”

“If you’re not having fun then I’ll personally escort you back here and we can watch a movie of your choice.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Huh? What d’ya say? Do you trust me to look out for you?”

I study his face to see if he’s being sincere. He seems like he means what he said and I’m not really in a position to skip this reception, even if it’s an informal one. Reagan will kick my ass if I don’t go. “Yeah, I trust you,” I admit reluctantly.

“Okay then it’s time to get your lazy ass out of bed.” Nick slaps my rear through the covers.

“Hey,” I yell.

“Better get a move on unless you want another.”

Sitting up quickly, I stretch and yawn loudly. “I really don’t want to go to this party.” I slant him a pleading look.

“Come on,” he says, rising to his feet. Stretching his hand out to me, I allow him to pull me up off the bed until I’m standing in front of him. I’m suddenly aware of the fact that he’s only wearing a towel wrapped around his lean waist. One white piece of material is all that keeps him from being naked. He places both his hands on my shoulders. “You’re going to have a great time, Candy,” he reassures me. He turns me around until I’m facing away from him. “Now suck it up and get your ass ready before I dress you myself.” His hand slaps my backside once again and a yelp flees my lips as I scurry away from him. His deep chuckle follows me into the brightly lit bathroom.

I’m dressed, and my hair is slicked back in a ponytail within fifteen minutes. Glancing in the mirror, I slide some pink lipstick on my mouth. Halfway through, I grab a tissue and wipe it off. Fuck that. No more pink. Picking up a tube of red lipstick, I paint it on my lips and then smile at the small change. It’s funny how such a tiny thing can seem like a monumental step in the right direction. Add in my new green shirt and tight black pants and I’m feeling rather daring tonight; the sky’s the limit.

Nick whistles loudly when I step foot outside the bathroom. “Damn, Candy. You’re hot enough to set the sprinklers off in here.”

I smile at his words even though they make me somewhat self-conscious. No one has ever called me hot before. Not even my ex Joseph. He’d say I looked nice or my dress was pretty, but he never made me feel sexy like Nick’s heated stare and words do.

My eyes roam over him from the top of his pushed back dark hair to his wide shoulders hidden by a fitted black button-down shirt, tucked neatly into black dress pants. He’s monochromatic from top to bottom. He looks dark and sexy and dangerous to my libido. He promised to show me a good time, but now I’m wondering if the best option would be to avoid being near him tonight. I’m worried I might let him show me too good of a time. Once we cross that line we can’t hop back over and pretend it didn’t happen.

“You look nice too,” I say, averting my gaze.

Once we’re in the elevator, I pull out my phone just for something to keep me occupied and keep my eyes off him. Scrolling through my messages, I take my time, avoiding conversation until the steel doors quietly slide open. We exit side by side as I slip my phone into one of the pockets on my fitted black pants while my eyes search for any sign of Reagan and Noah. The sooner I find my sister, the sooner she can serve as a buffer between Nick and me.

“Let’s get some drinks,” he says, grabbing my hand, before I can pull away. His warm palm against mine has me imagining what his hands would feel like trailing over hidden parts of my body. Parts that would involve stripping my clothes off. His stride is long and fast. I’m unsteady on my high heels as I try to keep up. “Slow down, before I break my neck. Are you that thirsty?”

“No, I’m not. You had a deer in the headlights expression on your face and I figured you could use a drink. Just trying to be a good date.”

“This isn’t a date, Nick.”

“I’m trying to be the best escort I can,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Escort? You wish,” I snort.

“I had a sugar momma offer me money one time to be her boy toy.”

“Shut up. You did not.” I slap his arm with the hand he’s not holding.

“I’m not kidding. This really happened.”

“How did that even come up in conversation and who is she?”

“She’s someone who donates a lot of money to Boston University and she was getting a tour of the stadium guided by yours truly. I guess I was a little too charming because she propositioned me to be a kept man.” He grins, flashing his perfect white teeth. The poor woman didn’t stand a chance against that smile.

“Wow. I don’t know what to say to that.” I shake my head. “I don’t have enough money to be your sugar momma, although I am older than you.”

“What’s a few years between lovers?”

“It’s four years and we’re not lovers.”

“Not yet.” He smirks.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Nick

WHEN I SAW the panicked expression on Carter’s face, I knew she was about to bolt at the first opportunity. A drink should help calm her down and if I remember correctly from Reagan and Noah’s engagement party, champagne works wonders for her.

“One champagne and a Heineken, please,” I tell the bartender.

“I never said I wanted a champagne,” Carter says, tugging on the hand I’m holding.

I don’t relinquish my grip on her. If I have to keep her by my side all night I will. “What did you want?” I ask.

“Champagne,” she murmurs. I grin knowingly. “That’s beside the point,” she huffs. “You’re supposed to ask me.”

The bartender places the champagne flute in front of her and slides the green bottle of beer toward me.

“So, did you sleep with that lady?” she questions.

It takes me a moment to realize who she’s talking about. “The one I gave the stadium tour to?” She nods. “No. That would have been an epic clusterfuck. I’m not an idiot who only thinks with his dick.”

“Are you sure about that? Your reputation precedes you.”

I place my hand on my chest. “Moi? I have a reputation?”

“Mhm. You sure do.”

“Who told you about my supposed reputation? You just moved back here and as far as I know, you and I don’t know any of the same people, except for your sister, Noah and your father.” Raising my beer to my lips, I take a sip. “I’m damn sure Noah and your father weren’t talking about my sex life so that leaves Reagan.”

“No comment.” She rests the edge of the glass on her bottom lip.

I watch as the pale liquid slips inside her red mouth. I want to know what champagne tastes like on her tongue. “Reagan’s already warned me to keep my distance from you.”

“She has?”

“Yep, I’m sorry about that.”

“No worries, Candy. It’s not like I’m going to let anything someone else says keep me away from you.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Turning to face her, I lean closer. “You can take my words any way you want. I’ve made my intent clear from the first time we kissed. Nothing’s changed since then. If anything, I’m only more determined to have you, now that I know you better.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or worried.”

“Worried about what? I don’t bite.” I wink. “Not unless you want me to. All you have to do is ask and I’ll do anything,” I say running my index finger along her forearm.

She jerks away, picks up her glass and gulps down the rest of her champagne.

Of course, I immediately flag the bartender down for another. She needs to let go and have some fun tonight. Maybe the champagne will help her to get out of her own head for a little while.

The bartender places a new glass of champagne down on the long bar and her gaze slides to me. “Did you order this?”

“I did.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“No, not drunk. I don’t want the night to end with your head in a toilet, but I’d like to see you buzzed. Why? Is it working?”

She raises the glass and takes a sip. Her tongue licks away the traces of champagne from her bottom lip. “I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Maybe,” she smiles.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Raising my beer bottle, I tap it against her flute.

“What are you two up to?” Reagan steps beside her sister and interrupts.

“We’re working on getting Carter buzzed,” I answer.

“Really?” Reagan raises an eyebrow.

“Just a little,” Carter replies, nonchalantly.

“I think this sounds like a great idea,” Reagan says, surprising me.

“You do?” Carter sounds skeptical.

“Yep. You’ve had a tough last few months. You deserve to have some fun.”

“Drink up, Candy and let the good times ensue.”

Two glasses of champagne later, Carter tugs on my hand. “Let’s go sing karaoke.”

“You like karaoke?” I quirk an eyebrow, surprise evident in my tone.

“I love it. Well, I used to love it before my ex fiancé turned me into a bore.”

Ex-fiancé, huh? It makes my stomach unsettled every time I think of how close she came to marrying that douche. Pressing my lips together, I wonder how recent this happened. “How long ago did you guys break up?”

She blows out a large sigh. “Seven months.”

“Are you still in love with him?”

“No, not anymore.” She shakes her head.

“What happened?”

“I think I was a convenient choice for him and he was safe.” She laughs. “It’s ironic that the “safe” guy knocked up a friend of mine when we were still together. How do you like them apples?”

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that, but you know what they say.”

“What do they say?”

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“What could possibly be the reason to explain him sleeping with my good friend?”

“So, you’d appreciate how awesome I am when I came along.”

She snorts. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, bud.”

“Are you going to sing for me or what?”

“I’m going to sing. I never said it was for you.”

“Can we sing one together?”

“Nope.”

“It’s like that?”

She coyly lowers her gaze, a slight smile playing on her tempting lips. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

“Come on,” I say rising from the bar stool and leading her across the bar to the DJ who’s running the karaoke. Both of us choose songs, neither letting the other see what we’ve signed up for.

“Are you nervous?” I ask.

“No. Singing is the one thing I never get nervous about. I love music.” She runs her hand over her slicked back hair, combing her fingers through her long ponytail. “What about you? Are you going to follow through or chicken out?”

“What’s this chicken out thing you speak of? I don’t know the meaning of backing down from a challenge.”

“Good to know.”

“Yep, consider yourself warned.” I wink and then the DJ calls out Carter’s name. She downs the rest of her champagne, handing me the empty glass. “A final dose of courage?” I ask, with a smirk.

“Hell no, just thirsty.” Peering over her shoulder at me, her eyes send messages that I want to receive. Messages I hope I’m not misinterpreting. Reaching a hand to the back of her head, she slides the elastic from her hair and throws it into the audience.

“Take it all off, baby,” someone shouts in a deep voice from across the room. My eyes narrow as I search for the smart ass, but they return to Carter in time to witness her shaking out the sexy thick mass of her hair. My mouth goes drier than the desert and I swallow hard, my Adam’s apple jerking in my throat. Visions of her naked in my bed have me fighting to keep my semi from turning into a full blown hard on.

She struts the rest of the way toward the stage and my eyes are drawn to her ass like I’m a missile locked onto its target. And in a way I am. I’m locked, loaded and ready to explode after a few days in her company. I’m not sure how much more my dick can handle. I’ve been on my best behavior which is no easy feat when we’ve been spending so much time together.

Reaching the middle of the stage, she picks up the microphone amid applause mixed with some shrill wolf whistles.

I notice a table of guys sitting right near the stage and every single one of them are focused on Carter as if she’s about to impart some life changing secret.

The beginning notes of Ice Ice Baby start, and a huge cheesy grin takes over my face as she begins to gyrate and thrust her hips to the music. She’s so fucking adorable. She sings all the lyrics like a badass rapper with attitude. She even manages to dance along for the entire song like an actual rock star which has some of the audience standing to the side of the stage mimicking her moves and calling out her name. When the last note resonates with the crowd they all start to cheer loudly, and her sparkling eyes meet mine. She bows, a smile from ear to ear, her cheeks flushed an attractive shade of pink. She looks so vibrant and alive. She looks perfect.

She places the microphone down and bounces over to me. The excitement she’s experiencing from performing is practically oozing out of her pores.

Pulling her into my arms, I hold her close. “How am I supposed to follow that?” I ask, my lips brushing the top of her soft hair.

She raises her head, resting her chin on my chest. “Show me what you got, jock,” she says, her tone teasingly cocky as the DJ calls me to the stage.

“I’ll show you what I got later when we get back to the room; my singing will have to suffice for now.” I wiggle my eyebrows, extricating myself from her hold and saunter confidently to the stage amongst shrieks and whistles from all the women in the crowd. I can’t deny I like the attention, but these days there’s only one woman I’m interested in. Her opinion is the only one that matters to me.

Clearing my throat, I wait for the music to start before raising the microphone in front of my mouth. “I’m just a gigolo and everywhere I go, people know the part I’m playing.” Scanning the audience, I find her to the right side of the stage watching me, riveted in place. Judging by the wide-eyed expression on her face and her slack jaw, I’ve taken her by surprise with my David Lee Roth song choice. Or maybe it’s that I actually have a good singing voice. I used to be in the church choir when I was a kid.

Growing up catholic, my parents made sure I did it all. I was an altar boy and a choir member. I joined every peer group I could, and it was all capped off by twelve years of catholic school. My mom also made me suffer through tap dancing lessons when I was seven. She only let me quit when I got into my third fight with Tommy Creedon, the neighborhood bully when he called me a pansy ass motherfucker. Three black eyes later and football replaced tap dancing, but I’ll forever owe my mom a debt of gratitude because the dance lessons made me light on my feet which benefits me at the wide receiver position I play. They’re also coming in handy now as I perform an old soft shoe for Carter. I know there’s an audience full of people watching, but she might as well be the only one in the room. Her stare is the only one I feel, the only one that I crave. Knowing she’s watching drives me to commit one hundred percent. I immerse myself in my performance as if this is the fucking Grammy Awards and not some reception hall filled with MMA fighters and their families. By the time the song ends I’m getting a standing ovation from the growing crowd.

Leaving the stage with a quick salute in the audience’s direction, I make my way over to where Carter waits. Her smile is so genuine as I approach, I can’t help but send one back at her.

“Who are you?” she questions, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms over her ample chest.

“What do you mean?”

“Is there anything you can’t do? Singing. Tap Dancing. Football. Fighting.”

“What can I say? I’m a renaissance man. I can do it all.”

“What other talents do you have that I don’t know about?”

“I don’t want to sound arrogant. I’d rather show you than tell you,” I say, leaning toward her, my eyes intently locked on hers.

Can she see how much I desire her - how much I need her to reciprocate this attraction I feel?

I can’t be imagining the flicker of longing I see gleaming from her enthralling blue eyes, before she skirts them away nervously. She wants me, too. It’s only her fear of getting hurt that holds her back. “Come on.” Tugging her arm from its crossed position, I clasp her hand with mine. “I’m thirsty from all that singing. Let’s get another drink.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Nick

SHE STUMBLES into our hotel room and I catch her before she can face plant. Wrapping an arm around her stomach, I keep her upright, pressing her back along the front of my body. She giggles then wiggles her ass teasingly over my hard cock. Tipping my head back, I breathe deep, clench my teeth and fight every primal urge driving me to make her mine.

Right here.

Right now.

If she wasn’t so intoxicated, she’d already be naked and at the mercy of my tongue, but I know this behavior is out of character for her. It’s the result of drinking generous amounts of champagne over the course of the evening.

Her hands slip back to grip the outside of my thighs. I catch them in mine as soon as they make contact. “Carter, you need to behave,” I growl from deep in my chest. I’m only human and she’s testing my fucking resolve with each second that passes.

“Maybe I’m tired of behaving. Where has being a good girl gotten me?” she questions, deliberately pressing her ass into my hard on.

Releasing her hands, I spin her around and crash my lips to hers, swallowing the gasp of surprise as it escapes her mouth. It only takes Carter a second to dive into our kiss full throttle. Her hands climb to my shoulders, sliding back until her nails dig into the skin where the collar of my shirt and the nape of my neck meet. Groaning into her mouth, my palms slide down over the smooth contours of her curvy backside, fingers cupping each cheek, lifting her up. Lean legs wrap around my hips as I stalk toward the bed, our mouths still connected. Each thrust of my tongue mimics the motion my cock longs to be doing to her pussy.

Our lips never part when I lower her to the bed and slip between her legs. Resting on my forearms, my hands grip hers. I raise them to either side of her head, keeping our fingers laced as our tongues eagerly meet and dance together. There’s no way I can handle her touching me if I’m going to keep our interlude as innocent as possible. Even just kissing her is better than the hottest porn.

With each whimper and seductive roll of her hips, she pushes me beyond my limits of control. My dick is so hard it’s painful and I’m sure I could come just from kissing her. She wraps her legs around my hips, squeezing like a vice slowly being tightened and tears her lips from mine. “Touch me, please,” she urges.

My nostrils flare as I stare down at her. She’s such a tempting little vixen tonight and I know some of her boldness is the aftereffects of the champagne speaking. “Please, Nick. Make me come,” she whispers, hoarsely.

Oh fuck. How am I supposed to resist her plea? “Not tonight, Candy. You’ve been drinking.”

“Please. I want you to.”

I clench my jaw so tight I hear the sound of my molars grinding and creaking. Is it so wrong to make her come when she wants to?

“Nick, please. I want you to make me come. No one’s ever made me before. Only me.” She bites on her lower lip and her cheeks flush red, embarrassed at her confession. Oh damn. Thinking of her bringing herself to orgasm is hotter than the surface of the sun.

“Candy, that’s not on you. You’ve been with some selfish assholes. That’s all that means.”

“Please,” she groans, bucking her hips into mine.

Fuck me. How can I resist something she wants so much? I release my hold on one of her hands, sliding my palm, under her shirt. The skin of her stomach is soft and warm as my fingertips trail along the waistband of her pants. Undoing the button first, the metallic buzz of the zipper's teeth breaks the silence in the room as I lower it. Sliding my hand down inside her panties we both moan when my middle finger slips through her wet slit then moves to briefly caress her clit, before plunging inside. She whimpers, rocking her pelvis into my hand. My thumb flicks back and forth over her clit and then draws slow circles over it. “Oh God, Nick,” she gasps.

I smile. There’s nothing better than making her feel pleasure and hearing my name on her lips. Today will be the first orgasm of many. I want to make her come daily for as long as she’ll let me.

“Your pussy is so hot and wet. I wish it was my cock inside you right now.”

“Yes, I want you.”

“Not tonight. When I take this pussy, you’re not going to be drunk on anything but me.”

Slipping another finger inside, I groan when her walls squeeze tight. I’d give anything to be buried there, balls deep, right now. Rolling her hips into my hand, she’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. The natural way she responds to my touch has me so turned on.

I’ve never wanted someone this much.

I’ve never needed someone this much.

I know it won’t happen today, but it’s inevitable that she and I will be naked together in the very near future. I’m persistent enough to make sure it happens. She deserves someone who will treat her right and that someone is me.

My pace quickens as I roll my thumb over her clit. Her breaths are faster as she draws closer to her release. “That’s it, Candy,” I encourage her.

“So close,” she whimpers. Her legs twitch and she moans as she orgasms for the first time at someone else’s hand.

“Watching you come was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She throws her forearm over her eyes as embarrassment sets in. “Oh God.”

Catching her hand in mine, I tug her hand away from her face, before releasing it. “Don’t hide from me. That was awesome.”

She stares up, her wonder filled eyes locking with mine. “I can’t believe you made me come.”

“Did you honestly doubt these babies?” I smirk, raise up both hands and wiggle my fingers.

She rolls her eyes.

“Come on. Give me my props. I told you I’m a renaissance man. Whatever you need, I can handle.”

“Can we not talk about this anymore?”

“We can talk about whatever you want.”

“What if I don’t want to talk at all?”

“Then we won’t. I’m going to take a quick shower,” I say, backing off the bed. With a final glance in her direction, I head toward the bathroom.

After an ice-cold shower, I brush my teeth and by the time I’m finished Carter is already asleep on the bed. She’s completely uncovered, and my eyes shamelessly roam over her. She must have changed when I was in the bathroom because she’s wearing a tank top and a tiny pair of shorts. Pulling on some boxer briefs, I yank a t-shirt over my head, before climbing in bed behind her. Tugging the covers up, I curl an arm around her middle, bury my nose in her sweet-smelling hair and sync my breathing with hers. My last thought before I drift off to sleep is that there’s nothing better than having her in my arms.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Carter

PRYING my still heavy eyelids open to slits, I notice the time displayed on the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. Even though it’s late morning and I’m alone in bed, the last ten hours have flashed by as if I only closed my eyes minutes ago. I vaguely remember Nick climbing in behind me last night, but I can’t be sure if it really happened or if I dreamt it. Rubbing my hand over my aching forehead, there’s one thing that I remember clearly and wish I didn’t. What transpired between us when we first came back to the room, I can recall with complete clarity. Every second of his hands on me...his fingers in me and the large orgasm that capped it all off is burned into my memory for all of eternity. My entire body tingles and pulses as I think about it. I’ve never felt anything that amazing before.

Last night makes me want things I shouldn’t. The pleasure he brought me to is unparalleled and makes me want to listen to my body and not my brain for a change. I’m just not sure that’s possible. Twenty-six years of always doing the responsible thing would be a hard habit for anyone to break.

I’m completely humiliated at how I begged him to make me come. Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to cover what I’m feeling. If I never had to see Nick again I’d be okay with that. Well...maybe that’s a gross exaggeration, but I know I’m not prepared to see him again anytime soon.

The ringing of my phone breaks me out of my contemplative trance. Grabbing it from the nightstand, I stare down at the screen. It’s a phone number I don’t recognize.

“Hello.”

“Hi, this is Marcy from Dr. Banyon’s office. I’m calling to speak to Carter.”

I’ve been waiting for a call back from them about a job. I hope it’s good news. “This is she.”

“Carter, we’d like you to come in for a second interview tomorrow morning. We’ve narrowed it down to you and one other candidate. We’re hoping to have made a choice by the end of the day,” she pauses. I chew on my thumbnail waiting to hear what she has to say. “Could you come in tomorrow morning for an interview at ten?”

Crap. I’m supposed to be in New York for two more days, but I really need this job. The part time work at the coffee shop isn’t enough for me to afford my own apartment, unless I want to dip into my savings account. But that’s supposed to be for school. “Yes. I can be there,” I answer. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to make it home on time. This interview is too important to let it pass me by.

It’s not until I’m safely aboard the train, that will deliver me to the station in Westwood, Massachusetts, that I can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

After I hung up with Dr. Banyon’s office I pulled up the train schedule and realized I only had ninety minutes to board the one I needed. From that moment on I was like a tornado whirling about the room, packing my things and getting myself ready. Twenty-five minutes and I was out the door, climbing into the cab that brought me to the train station. I texted Reagan on the way with the details of what had come up and mentioned that I’d call her tonight. I know she’ll be disappointed I had to leave, but she’ll understand how important this job opportunity is for me. Last year she was in the same position as me, living with our parents and slowly being driven insane. If anyone can sympathize it’s her.

I put a call into Kennedy to ask her to pick me up and she immediately agreed. Of course, she told me it would cost me all the details of the three days I spent in the city and since Westwood is about a thirty-minute ride from my parent’s house. Taking a cab would cost me more money than I can spare.

Closing my eyes, I rest my head back on the seat. My mind works overtime consumed with thoughts of Nick and his mischievous hazel eyes. Eyes that lean more toward green when he’s wearing gray and burn a deeper golden color like aged whiskey when he’s wearing black. But most of the time, they’re a fascinating compilation of various shades of green and brown, neither one more apparent than the other. His eyes remind me of the colors associated with autumn and why it’s always been my favorite season.

Shaking my head, I sit up and dig my kindle out of my bag. In the past, I’ve wasted too much time on guys who didn’t deserve it. But now I’m older and hopefully wiser. While Nick may seem like a nice guy, he’s not someone I can become involved with beyond friendship. Even that might be a stretch. Keeping the friendship line drawn firmly in the sand between us could come with a lot of headaches. I know Nick will push the boundaries for more every chance he gets. He wants to sleep with me. I’m only a challenge for him because girls never turn him down. Well this girl did and will continue to do so.

That’s my plan, anyway.

“Give me all the dirty deets about your time in the city,” Kennedy says as she navigates in and out of traffic on the highway. She changes lanes at eighty miles per hour, weaving between cars, threading the needle without a turn signal like most of the other drivers are doing. I know many people would be panicked in my situation, but not if you grew up in Massachusetts. There’s something so comforting about being home and travelling on these familiar roads; even at breakneck speeds. New York City was fun, but I’m glad to be back where I belong.

“You should know me better than that,” I reply calmly and hold my breath because there actually is something to tell.

“Why do I sense you’re trying to brush over this conversation? Tell me what happened right now or I’m going to deposit your lying ass on the side of the road.”

I snort at the image her words paint. “I hate that you know me so well. It’s not fair.”

“Hah. I know you better than I know myself which might be part of my problem.”

“This is true. How’s everything on the Mike front?”

“It’s been a quiet few days. Must be the lull before the storm. He never stays silent for long unless something is in the works.”

“Kennedy, I’m worried about you. Do you think he’d hurt you?” I question, grimacing. “I mean, more than he already has.” I’ve seen her with bruises on her arms and legs she’s tried to explain away on more than one occasion.

“No, I think his bark is worse than his bite.” She shakes her head and turns off the radio that’s softly playing in the background. “Enough about my dipshit ex; I want to hear about you. Who’s the guy and what happened?”

Chewing on my bottom lip, I ponder how much I should say.

“Just tell me,” she urges.

“You can’t tell Reagan.”

“I’m okay with that. There’s plenty she doesn’t know about my life.” She reaches up to adjust the rearview mirror. “It’s hard to share the bad shit with someone whose life is perfect.”

“I don’t think her life is perfect, but she’s definitely happier than she’s ever been. I’m glad one of us is.”

“Yeah, me too. Now, enough stalling. Get to it.”

“Fine. I spent a lot of time with Noah’s friend, Nick. I actually ended up staying with him because there was a mix-up on my reservation when I tried to check in.”

“You stayed in the same room?”

“Yep.” I fidget in my seat, shifting my weight side to side.

“And?”

“And what?”

“Fuck off. I know there’s more.”

“I hate you,” I say, smiling.

“You love me, and you know it. Stop making this conversation like pulling teeth,” she snorts. “Ba dum bum.” She drums on the steering wheel.

“Aren’t you funny?”

“Dentist humor never gets old. Are you sure you want to pursue that for a career?”

“Yep, I am.”

“You were telling me about Nick. Please continue. What’s he look like?”

Sighing as I picture him, I slide my tongue along the curve of my bottom lip. Was it less than twenty-four hours ago that his tongue was in my mouth and his fingers were buried in my pussy?

“Wow. Something good must have happened for your cheeks to be so flushed.”

“He looks like Jimmy G, the Pats former backup quarterback.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. His teeth are perfect.”

Kennedy giggles, her eyes flicking in my direction, before returning to the road in front of her.

“What?”

“You and your teeth hang-ups.”

“I like nice teeth.” I shrug.

“It’s weird.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that I like them since I’ll be working with them every day.”

“Still weird. But enough about teeth, tell me what happened you dirty girl.”

“Shut up. I’m not a dirty girl. All we did was fool around last night and then slept in the same bed. He was gone this morning when I woke up.”

“What’s your definition of fooled around?” Clothes on or off?”

“Clothes on,” I scowl. “I barely know him.”

“You’re such a prude.”

“I’m not a prude. I like sex just as much as anyone else, but I’m not going to sleep with Nick. He’s the guy you don’t get over.”

“No, you get under him instead,” she titters. “Those are the ones that are the most fun.”

“You mean like Mike? Are you having fun still? Because I’m pretty sure the fun stopped a long time ago.”

“Hey, you don’t have to throw it in my face. I never said I made solid choices when it comes to guys.”

“I’m sorry. That was a low blow.”

“Nah, it’s okay. So, tell me the rest.”

“There’s nothing else to tell. He was gone when I woke up and Reagan mentioned the guys were at the gym when I texted her earlier. I didn’t see him before I left.”

“You didn’t tell him you were leaving?”

“No way. Why would I?”

“Because you were sharing a room with the guy and it’s the polite thing to do.”

“Meh, I don’t think he’ll care. He’ll probably bring someone else back to the room now that I’m gone.” Thinking about this possibility makes my stomach churn restlessly and causes acid to burn a path up the middle of my chest like a flamethrower shooting out ignited fuel.

“Reagan would have a fit if she knew what happened. She warned him away from me at her engagement party and she told me he wasn’t someone she’d want me to get involved with.”

“Sounds like he’s a bad boy.” Kennedy wiggles her eyebrows up and down.

“I don’t know. Maybe a little, but I’m starting to wonder. He’s hot and the ladies love him, but I don’t think he’s an asshole.” I stare down at my nails. “He’s actually pretty sweet and funny. He was a perfect gentleman when we were together.”

“Not too much of a gentleman I hope.”

“No. Last night was…”

“Amazing?”

“Yeah, amazing,” I repeat. “But, I’ll probably never see him again, anyway.” I shrug as if it doesn’t bother me, but I’m lying to Kennedy and myself.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Nick

CARTER LEAVING the city really put a damper on the rest of my trip. Don’t get me wrong, I had to be there for my boy, Noah, and I was. He kicked Sanchez’s ass, getting the knockout in the second round. We celebrated hard partying well into the early morning, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Carter. I missed her on the flight home and my head was preoccupied wondering what she was doing?

Sinking into the old leather of the couch, I turn my phone on. Leaning my head back, I compose a text in my mind and grin as I begin to type it out.

Me: Where’d my cuddle buddy go?

Barking out a laugh, I read it over once more and then send. She doesn’t answer my message and it’s not like I expect her to. She’d never make it that easy on me.

Me: You can run, but you can’t hide, Candy.

This time I don’t wait to see if she’ll answer. Immediately, I type out some more. This is the best I’ve felt since she left.

Me: Did you forget to kiss me goodbye?

Me: Do you miss me yet, roomie?

Does she miss me though? I’d love to know the honest answer to that question.

Is her bed lonely without me in it? And this one too.

I sure as hell felt her absence the past two nights. More than once, I found myself reaching for her only to find she wasn’t there.

How can I miss Carter being beside me after only a few nights of sleeping in the same bed?

It’s amazing how quickly she became an instrumental part of my life. I didn’t realize what a significant loss I’d feel once we returned to Boston. Now that I know, I need to figure out what I’m going to do to make sure I see her as soon as possible.

With Monday morning comes gym time and day four without seeing Carter. While football practice doesn’t officially begin until the last week of July, some of the team and I decided to begin a week early. We run the track for three miles, followed by two hours of drills that keep my mind occupied. It’s been nice to see some of my teammates, although, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t missing Brady and Zeke. We have some younger, talented players, but it won’t be the same without my two best friends.

Brady and Harlow moved to their own apartment about ten minutes away. Harlow is still attending B.U. and Brady got a job working for a sports talk radio show. He decided his football days were over, partly due to an old knee injury flaring up during last season. But all is good. He loves his new job and the two of them are ridiculously happy together.

Zeke found employment in the city working for an investment firm and he still shares the apartment with me. Claire, his girlfriend hasn’t been around much lately. I’m not sure what the story is there, but when he’s ready to talk about it, he will.

Trevor, Brady’s younger brother recently moved into his old room. So far, we’ve barely seen him at the apartment, but now that football practices have officially begun, I’m sure that’s about to change.

“Dude, do you know anyone who’s looking for a roommate?” Noah asks me as we finish changing in the gym locker room.

“What’s the matter? Did Reagan already get sick of your ass and kick you out?” I smirk, before raising the bottle of water to my lips.

“Nope, that’ll never happen,” he boasts, looking pleased with himself. “Carter got the job she interviewed for and now she’s ready to move out of her parent’s house.”

My heart pounds erratically at the mention of her name. “Actually, there’s a one bedroom available across the hall from my apartment.” I do my best to keep my tone even. He can’t know how much the thought of her being so close by excites me.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I can talk to our landlord for her if you want.”

“Give me his number and I’ll pass it on to Carter. She doesn’t mind if we put some feelers out for her, but she wants to be the one to do all the calling.”

“Here,” I say, sending him a text with the phone number. “It’s available immediately. The guy who lived there, just moved out this past weekend.”

“I’ll tell her to call him right away before someone else grabs it. I know Reagan would feel a lot better about Carter living alone with you guys right across the hall.”

“Yeah, most definitely. We’ll look out for her.” My cool answer masks the emotional turbulence going on inside my chest. Having her so close to me would solve the problem of when I’ll see her again.

When wouldn’t I see her?

We could spend time together every day which would give me ample opportunity to wear her defenses down. She won’t stand a chance resisting me.

“What’s going on with you lately?” Harlow bumps her shoulder into mine as we sit next to each other on the leather couch in my apartment.

“Football practices are kicking my ass. That’s about it.” My gaze drifts from the Star Trek episode we’re watching to connect with Harlow’s expressive gray eyes. “What?” I question, noticing the frown lines pressing down between her brows.

“What’s up with you? What aren’t you telling me?” Shifting on the cushion toward me, she continues her volley of rapid fire questions, while earnestly studying my face. “Are you in trouble? Do you owe some bookie money? Did you knock someone up?”

Barking out a laugh, I wrap my arm around her. Pulling her close, I kiss the top of her head. “Brady’s a lucky bastard to have you. If only I’d met you first.”

She smiles up at me. “Now, I get it.”

“Get what?”

“You’re thinking about a girl.” Her expression shifts from worry to delight quicker than the click of a dial. “Who is she?”

“Who is whom?”

“Don’t even try to keep this from me. Tell me now.”

“Her name is Carter.”

Her lips press together, cheeks puffing out as she nods her head, gloating over her correct assumption. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“You’ll like her.”

“Tell me about her. Where did you guys meet?”

“She’s one of Reagan’s older sisters and she just moved back to Boston.”

“She’s an older woman then?”

“Yep, she’s twenty-six and she’s about to return to dental school.”

“An older woman and a doctor to be, sounds like you’re out of your element my friend.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s older and if she’s going to dental school then she obviously won’t have time for frat parties and getting drunk.”

“I already know she doesn’t like parties.”

“How long have you guys been dating?”

“We’re not dating yet. We spent a few days together in New York and kissed, but I haven’t talked to her since.”

“You’ve been back from the city for over a week now. How are you going to woo her if you don’t see her?”

“She’s moving into the apartment across the hall next weekend.” I smirk and hold my fist out for her to bump.

“Nice. How’d you manage that one?”

“The opportunity sort of fell into my lap.”

Now, if only I can get her to fall for me.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Carter

“THE MOVING CREW IS HERE,” Reagan yells up the stairs.

“Coming,” I shout as the rubber soles of my sneakers pound down the wooden stairs. I skid to an abrupt halt at the bottom when I see Noah, Nick and another guy I don’t recognize standing in the entryway of my parent’s home.

“The guys are going to help us move your stuff. We should be able to make it in one trip with all their help,” Reagan says, smiling in Noah’s direction.

“Hey.” I wave, awkwardly, shoving my hands in the front pockets of my shorts.

Nick steps forward, gesturing to the mammoth size male standing next to him. “Carter, this is my buddy, Zeke. He’s going to make short work of this move.” He smacks Zeke on the chest with the back of his hand.

Smiling, I hold out my hand and he clasps it firmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Zeke. I appreciate the help.”

“It’s great to meet you. Nick promised me pizza and beer so it’s all good.”

Nick shrugs his broad shoulders. “What can I say? He’s a cheap date.”

Noah claps his hands together, the deep thunderous sound immediately cuts off any conversation, drawing all eyes to him. “Let’s get this show on the road, people. This furniture isn’t going to load itself.”

“Everything I purchased is in the garage and there are tubs of clothes and some boxes in my room upstairs,” I inform them.

“Zeke and Reagan, you guys come with me. Nick, you and Carter head upstairs and start grabbing stuff,” Noah orders, taking charge of the situation. Oh no. Why’d he have to choose Nick to help me? I don’t want to be with him, never mind alone in my bedroom.

“Candy,” he leans down, whispering in my ear. “Lead me to your room.”

Ignoring his teasing tone, I start up the stairs. With every step I take I sense the heat of his presence behind me. I imagine his strong hands gripping my hips, guiding me along.

Stop it.

Squeezing my lids shut in disgust, my toe catches on the lip of the top step and I sprawl forward. I shove my hands out in front to catch my weight as my eyes fly open, but Nick hooks an arm around my waist, preventing me from landing on the floor. Instead, my ass pushes back into his groin.

“I like this,” he croons, his lips brushing over the bottom of my earlobe as he holds me pressed tight to him. I gasp at the feel of his hard cock against my ass through his basketball shorts. “You like it too, huh?” he asks, cockily.

I don’t answer, instead, I pry his arm from my waist, jolting forward, creating some much-needed distance between us. Entering my room two steps in front of him, I move toward the packed boxes. “How do you want to do this?” I question in my most businesslike tone as if we weren’t in a compromising position only seconds ago.

“I’m going to start carrying boxes downstairs and you’re going to wait here.”

“I can bring some too. I’m not helpless.”

“Candy, these boxes are bigger than you are. How do you expect to carry them?”

“I can take the bags with my sheets and comforter at least.”

“If you insist, but maybe you can get the front door for me,” he says, stacking one large box on top of another. Bending down, he lifts both up into his arms and heads through the open doorway.

“Nick, you can’t even see where you’re going,” I call as I hurry after him with a trash bag in hand. “You’ll break your neck falling down the stairs.” My hand on his arm has him pausing.

“Are you worried about me, Candy?”

“Of course, I am. I don’t want you to get hurt helping me.”

He chuckles.

“I mean, I don’t want you to get hurt at all.” I blow my hair out of my flushed face. We’ve barely begun and he’s already making me perspire.

“These boxes are heavy. Would you mind if we continued this conversation later?”

“Oh, sure. Sorry.”

Nick successfully navigates his way down the stairs and I breathe a sigh of relief as I follow. Stepping to the side, I hold the door and watch his ass as he passes through. My gaze raises to take in his broad shoulders that are emphasized in a tight green t-shirt, before dropping back down to his backside. He bends down as he sets the two boxes inside the small cube truck I rented for the day and my heart palpitates in reaction. In the past, I’ve never really been the kind of girl who checks out guys asses, but Nick’s is like a magnet for my eyes. My cheeks flush pink, as he catches my gaze.

Does he know I was just checking him out?

Can he tell just by looking at me?

I hand the bag of sheets up into the truck and head back to my room to grab another. By the end of today this move will be behind me and I won’t have to see Nick anymore.

“What do you mean neighbor?” I ask, my hands on my hips.

“We’re neighbors now,” Nick says, with a smirk twisting his masculine lips.

“Where do you live? Down the street?”

“Nope, try right across the hall.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, Ma’am. I wouldn’t joke about that.” He grips my hand, tugging me along beside him. Leading me to the propped open door, he points at the apartment directly across the hall. “That’s where Zeke and I live. We also have another roommate, Trevor.”

I can’t believe this. The first time I saw this apartment I immediately fell in love with the layout. The rooms are filled with large windows that let in loads of natural light and the location is near school. It’s even conveniently located for my new job. Everything about this place is perfect, except for Nick being my neighbor.

How am I supposed to avoid him if he lives right across the hall?

Is the universe set on making my life hell?

Why can’t I catch a break?

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

“Did you plan this?” I question. My eyes narrow as I carefully study his expression.

“Sure, Candy. This is all part of my nefarious plan to make you my sex slave.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

I know I sound like a paranoid freak, but what am I supposed to think? This all seems too coincidental for comfort.

“Noah asked me if I knew of any apartments and I told him about this one. I knew the guy that lived here had just moved out and it wouldn’t be available long.”

“Thanks, I guess. It’s a great apartment, but I don’t really need babysitters. I’m a big girl.”

“I’m not interested in babysitting, but I’m up for any private slumber parties you want to invite me to.” He winks.

I roll my eyes. “You would say that.”

“We had some great sleepovers in New York. I haven’t slept that well since.”

“Hmm,” I hum, noncommittally.

“You disagree?” he asks, putting me on the spot.

Raking my bottom teeth over my top lip, I think about how honest I want to be. Should I tell him that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since? Or should I pretend that sleeping in his arms was mediocre? “I don’t disagree, but what good does admitting that do? There’s no reason for it to ever happen again.” I raise one shoulder in a half shrug.

“I think the fact that we both enjoyed it is enough of a reason to do it again. What time should I come over tonight?”

“What?”

“You heard me. What time are we going to bed?”

“We’re not going to bed at all.” I wag my finger back and forth between us.

“Wow, you’re a party animal. What are we doing all night?” He rubs his palms together.

“Stop deliberately misconstruing what I’m saying.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to. I’m merely going by what you’re saying.”

“You and I aren’t going to bed at all.”

“I know. You already said so. That’s why I asked you what we’re going to be doing all night if we’re not sleeping.”

“Grrr,” I growl, frustrated with his games. “Stop twisting my words around.” I poke his chest repeatedly with my fingernail, punctuating my words. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you can be?”

“You seem to be the only person who thinks I am. Most find me irresistibly charming.” He flashes an easy grin. Pressing my lips together, I aim a skeptical glare in his direction. “Let’s finish getting you unpacked and we can negotiate whose bed the sleepover is taking place in.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Nick

“PIZZA’S HERE, GUYS,” Carter calls out as she carries four large boxes to the kitchen. She places them down on the island that separates the kitchen from her living area, before setting out a stack of paper plates and napkins. “Beer’s in the fridge, help yourself.” She pulls a large piece of bacon pizza from one of the boxes, and my pulse races. She just stole all the remaining pieces of my heart that weren’t already hers. I’ve never met a girl who liked bacon pizza before and I didn’t even have to ask her to order it. Most of the girls I know barely eat and bacon is not on the list of foods that shall pass between their glossy lips. Carter gets me. It’s like we were made for each other. The universe works in mysterious ways. Sometimes there are signs letting you know you’re heading in the right direction. As ridiculous as it may seem to some, I’m taking this as a giant one.

Sneaking up behind her, I lean over and bite a chunk off her piece. Damn that’s delicious.

“Hey,” she shouts in outrage, stepping away. Spinning around to face me, she points her finger at my face. “I don’t share my food. Not. Ever. Especially my pizza.”

Holding up my hands in surrender, I grin. “Sorry. It won’t happen again. Well, maybe it will. I like to see you worked up. You look so sexy with your eyes flashing fire.”

“Nick,” she groans. “Why can’t you make anything easy?”

“Because it’s more pleasurable to make things fun.”

“Life isn’t all about fun, though.”

“Think about it from my point of view for a minute. Aren’t the things you have to work for always worth it in the end?”

Her free hand perches on a hip as she ponders my words.

“Just humor me, okay?” I implore.

She nods. “Yeah I guess. Maybe.”

“Sure, they are.” I nod, encouragingly. “But there’s no reason why you can’t make working hard enjoyable. I like to laugh as much as I can. It feels good.” I shrug my shoulders. “Taking life too seriously isn’t much fun. There’s enough shit to wade through as it is. Might as well put those hip waders on and go with the flow...splash the fuck through it.”

“Eww.” She shudders at the visual. “I’m trying to eat, here.” She gestures at the half-eaten slice in her hand.

“You get the drift.” I wink.

She snorts. “Bad pun.”

“I think it’s a great pun. It might be the king of all puns.” I grab a slice of my own from the box and moan when I take the first steaming hot bite. It’s a compilation of greasy, cheesy and crunchy with all the bacon littered over the top. It’s fucking perfection.

“Nick, doesn’t need any pizza,” Zeke says as he stops next to us. Rifling through the boxes he chooses a piece with sausage and hamburger. “He eats enough of it already. If you are what you eat, Nick’s part pizza.”

“What else would Nick be?” Carter asks, eyes sparkling mischievously.

Zeke raises an eyebrow and glances from her to me. I know this isn’t going to be good, but before I can signal with my eyes for him to shut up, it’s too late.

“Pussy,” he says, chuckling.

I catch the look of disgust that passes over Carter’s face. Her lip literally curls up for a second, before she tosses her crust on the empty plate in front of her.

Narrowing my eyes, I glare at Zeke. I’m going to kick his fucking ass for saying that. I haven’t been with anyone besides Carter for months now and I don’t intend to. He just fucked up all the progress I’ve made with one single word and soon I’m going to return the favor by fucking up his face with one single punch.

“Dude that’s a gross exaggeration,” I say, trying to downplay the disastrous effect of his comment.

“What do we have here?” Noah asks, pushing his way to the pizza. “I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Reagan replies, grabbing a plate and holding it out for him to place a slice of cheese on.

Carter silently passes out beers all around and I’m both relieved and worried that what Zeke said has been swept under the rug for now. But I know she’s thinking about it. Her troubled blues communicate the words she’d never dare voice out loud. Zeke’s callous remark hurt her and even though I’m not, I feel responsible. She doesn’t know how unfounded his joke is. She has no idea I’ve been waiting for her. Carter can’t possibly know I’ll wait as long as she needs me to, unless I tell her. I’ll have to take advantage of the next opportunity I get to clear the air between us and make it soon.

Three hours later, Carter kicked us all out of her apartment. She didn’t really kick us out, but it felt like a giant boot to the ass for me. She mentioned how she had a lot to do still, but they were all things she needed to take care of herself. Everyone else jumped at the opportunity to leave and I didn’t want to go anywhere. I tried using my stellar manipulation skills on her, but it was a waste. The tiny palm pushing flat against the middle of my back as I walked out her door proved she didn’t fall for them. The door slamming shut in my face once I’d turned around drove the point home.

When I thought of Carter moving into the same building, I imagined bumping into each other in the hallway at all hours and using those moments as a segue to spend more time with her. When in actuality, she’s been elusive as fuck and I haven’t set eyes on her for four days - not since I helped her move in. She’s like a spirit you know is there, even though you’ve never seen it. I’ve tried listening for her, but I never hear her leave or come home. The heavy wooden main door of our building closes with a loud bang every single time, except when she goes in or out. And I would know because I’ve been listening for that familiar sound. Each time I hear it, I peek out the door to see if it’s her, but to no avail. I’ve even tried stalking her from our front window, like a dog waiting for its owner to come home, but I haven’t caught sight of her.

She’s like a fucking ninja.

A hot ninja that tastes like candy.

“I think we need to have a party on Friday night,” I mention to Zeke as he comes out of his room already stripping his tie off his thick neck after a long day at the office.

“I’m game. What’s the occasion?” he questions, flopping down on the opposite end of the long couch. Kicking his shoes off, he places his sock covered feet on the coffee table.

“Do we need a reason?” I answer vaguely. He doesn’t know about my feelings for Carter and I’m not ready to share them with anyone else. It’s bad enough Harlow figured it out so easily.

“Nah, man. You know I’m always game for a party.”

“We might as well enjoy the rest of the summer. I’ve just started official practices and the workload is only going to increase. I’m not sure what my schedule’s going to look like.” I’m hoping if all goes well, Carter will be occupying most of my free time soon, but if I never see her that’s not really a possibility.

“I’ll text Brady and Noah and fill the guys in at practice tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me. I could use a distraction,” Zeke tells me, resting his head back on the couch.

“What’s going on with you? I haven’t seen Claire around at all.”

“Yeah, and you won’t be.”

“If you need to talk, you know I’m here.”

“I know man. I just need to push her out of my mind.”

“I’ll tell Reagan and Harlow to invite some single friends,” I say, knowing that Reagan will make sure Carter attends the party. Her days of avoiding me are about to end.

“Who the fuck invited all these people?” I ask Trevor, casting a pointed glance his way.

“You told me to invite whomever I wanted.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you knew half the population of Boston. Hell, you just moved here a few weeks ago, dude.”

“Hey, I work fast. It’s my sparkling personality.” His crooked grin is laced with cockiness.

“You sound so much like your older brother right now.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I didn’t mean it as an insult, but I have a feeling even if I did, you wouldn’t take it that way.”

“I know I invited a lot of people, but check out all the babes. You can’t be upset about that.”

“No, it’s all good,” I say.

“I’m going to make my move on that little blonde in the corner,” Trevor says, raising his chin in her direction.

“Go get her,” I encourage, before sipping from the beer bottle in my hand. The irony of my advice to Trevor isn’t lost on me. I’m telling him to go after the girl he wants, while I stand here nursing a now lukewarm beer, observing Carter from across the room. I’ve always been a guy who pursues whichever girl he wants. When did I become such a hesitant pussy?

Fuck this.

Stalking toward her with single minded purpose in my stride, my plan to speak with her is foiled when she walks into the bathroom before I can reach her. Shaking my head, I move into the kitchen, pouring my beer into the sink. Dropping the empty bottle into the recycling bin, I trek to the hallway where the bathroom is. Leaning my back against the wall, I wait for her to appear reminiscent of the last party we were both at. I’ve made my mind up that she’s avoided me for long enough. She’s only keeping her distance because she’s been hurt. I can tell her repeatedly what a good guy I am, but I really need to spend time with her to show her I’m nothing like her ex.

My hand shoots to the side catching her wrist as she exits the bathroom.

“What the hell, Nick?” she yells, jumping in surprise. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she questions in a scolding tone as I tug her along beside me. “Where are we going?”

Opening the door to my room, I quickly shuttle her inside with a hand against the middle of her back, before she can object. Opening her mouth to speak, I place my index finger over her dark red lips. “Don’t talk.” I shake my head. “Please, just listen to me.” My finger slides up to her nose and down over the curvy slopes of her lips as she nods in agreement. I smile at how adorable she is then let my hand fall to my side.

My thoughts are a jumbled mess, but I have to do this now or never. It’s time to tell her how I feel; lay my cards out on the table and hope I have a winning hand when all is said and done.

Taking a deep breath, I roll my neck from side to side. Carter watches me with a frown line digging in between her eyebrows and her lips tightly press together.

Cupping both her shoulders in my hands, I hold her in place. “Why have you been avoiding me?” I question. My voice sounds hoarse to my own ears. I know it’s the insecurity she brings out. This feeling is alien to me and I don’t like it at all.

“I haven’t been.” She chews on her bottom lip, averting her eyes.

Catching her chin with one of my hands, I stare into her blue eyes. “You have and it’s over as of now. Understand?”

“Why do I have to listen to what you say? I’m an adult. I’m older than you are,” she huffs.

“You have to listen to me because I’m the guy who’s crazy about you.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, I am. Absofuckinglutely crazy about you. I want more than friendship from you. I want to date you, kiss you, make you laugh and occasionally annoy you.”

“You do?”

“I do. Can we start by you spending the day with me tomorrow? I promise I’ll be on my best behavior and we’ll have a great time.”

“Where would we go?”

“Let me take care of everything. Just wear a bathing suit and bring some sunscreen. I’ll handle the rest.”

She scrunches up her narrow nose. “I don’t really want to go to the beach.”

“I guess it’s good we’re not going there,” I say, my index finger smoothing down over the wrinkles along the bridge.

“You’re really not going to tell me what we’re doing?”

“Nope. These lips are sealed. Unless you want to kiss them.”

She rolls her eyes. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because you like my kisses,” I say, lowering my face until my lips hover over hers, our breath mingling. “You love it when I bite on your bottom lip and then quiet the sting with my tongue.”

She inhales sharply. I know my words are affecting her. I can tell by the throbbing pulse in her neck that she wants our lips to reacquaint themselves. As much as I desire the same, I’m not going to kiss her tonight. I’ll save it for tomorrow when we’re on our date. If all goes according to plan a sleepover will be happening soon.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Carter

NERVOUSLY PACING AROUND MY APARTMENT, I glance at the clock on the kitchen wall. Nick should be here any minute and I’m a wreck. Why did I say yes to this date?

I’ve been doing fine without him. Yes, I’ve missed seeing him, but I had convinced myself he wasn’t as nice as I’d remembered - or as handsome. Both of those things were proved false when I saw him last night.

Knuckles rapping on the solid door breaks the silence. Closing my eyes while I draw in two deep calming breaths. Settle down. It’s just Nick and he’s crazy about me. The last thought helps to settle the wild fluttering of nervous energy in my stomach. Running a hand down the short length of my blue sundress, I smooth out the loose, flowing material. Slipping my flip flops on my feet, I grab the pink and white striped canvas beach bag that holds my towel and sunscreen. I haven’t phased out all the pink yet, but I’m slowly working on it. Sliding my sunglasses on, I nudge them to the top of my head before reaching for the handle. Opening the door, I find Nick standing there with his hands pushed into the front pockets on his black board shorts. The crooked grin on his kissable lips instantly reassures me. I answer with a smile, my own glossy lips effortlessly responding. I’m happy to see him and I’m tired of trying to keep my feelings hidden or suppress them. Today is all about having a good time. Anything beyond that, I don’t want to contemplate.

“Hey,” he says, in that smooth, deep voice I’ve come to expect and appreciate. My eyes lock with his hazel ones then glide down to drink in the wide width of his muscular shoulders and bulky chest in his white t-shirt that says I didn’t text you. Vodka did. My knees quiver with yearning before I find my voice to answer him.

“Hi.” My voice is soft and breathy to my own ears and I cringe internally. It’s one thing for me to know how powerfully he affects me, but I’m not ready to divulge such a secret to him. He needs to earn that.

“Are you ready to have a great day?” he asks, caressing my arm with one of his calloused palms.

“I sure am.” I beam, meaning those words. If anyone deserves a break from life it’s me.

He slides his hand down, tugging the bag from the crook of my elbow. Once I’ve locked the door and dropped my keys in my bag, he catches my hand with his. Silently, we moved through the hallway, me giddy with anticipation of what our time together will bring and Nick being the cool customer he always appears to be.

The sun is shining full force as we exit the brick building and head down the sidewalk toward his jeep. Reaching up, I slide my sunglasses down to perch on the bridge of my nose and exhale with a sigh of relief, thankful the sun is no longer radiating my eyeballs.

Nick opens the passenger door and I scoot in, quickly tugging my dress down to mid-thigh. He notices and chuckles before placing the beach bag by my feet. Shutting my door, he makes his way around, climbing inside the vehicle agilely. “I was going to take the top off, but we have to drive on the highway.”

“I can handle a little wind.”

“That’s good to know since we’re going out on my boat today.”

“You have your own boat?”

“Yeah. It was a gift from my grandfather for my twenty-first birthday.”

“Spoiled much?” I ask, sarcasm more than evident.

“Yeah, I am. I’m not going to deny it, but I’m also a hard worker despite my privileged upbringing,” he answers honestly.

“Where do you dock it?” I ask to change the subject.

“It’s in Quincy at the marina. Have you been out on a boat before?”

“Joseph liked to sail. I went out with him a few times, but mostly he preferred to go alone.”

“Well, you’re welcome to come out on my boat anytime you want. In fact, I have a feeling this will be the first time of many.”

Once we’ve parked at the marina, Nick grabs a cooler from the back of the jeep. He leads us along the wooden walkway until we come to a long, sleek, red and white powerboat. The aerodynamic design screams of high speeds and my heart thuds in nervous anticipation. Holding his hand to help me balance, I step onto the boat. Widening my stance to stay upright as the floor rocks underneath me, a high-pitched squeak leaves my parted lips.

Nick places his hand on my arm, steadying me as I drop my bag down in front of one of the seats. “How are you doing there, Candy?”

“I’m all set. I’ve got my sea legs,” I answer cockily, tossing my ponytail over my shoulder.

Stepping onto the dock, he grabs the cooler, before setting it down on the floor behind his seat. Moving about untying ropes and whatever it is that experienced boatmen do, I don’t pay him any mind. Instead, I focus on backing up my boastful words I uttered to Nick a minute ago, adapting to the churning waves rolling from side to side. Allowing my gaze to roam, I check out all the beautiful boats surrounding us. The salty breeze tickles my nose in the best way as I deeply breath in the fresh air. Lowering my lids, I savor the sensation of the wind gently stirring up the small hairs on the nape of my neck and pleasantly kissing along my shoulders. My lips part with a large sigh of appreciation. Opening my eyes, I find Nick standing in front of me, his hazel depths intent on my face. Our gazes lock through the shaded lenses of my sunglasses.

Stepping forward, he carefully cups my cheeks with his warm palms sending an impulse of something deeper than desire through my chest. I’m not ready to dissect what this feeling is or what it means. Instead, I focus on the gold and green flecks in his hazel irises and how they shimmer like the sunlight reflecting on the sea. “You’re breathtakingly beautiful.” His face lowers and my stomach rolls, this time from the impending kiss and not the rough water. Brushing my mouth tenderly with his, the kiss is feather soft, a mere whisper against my lips, a subtle hint of what we both want to come. He draws back and flashes a blinding smile. “Pick a seat Candy and hang on tight.”

I do as he suggests, choosing the one to the left of him as he turns the key. The motor roars to life and I flash an anxious glance his way. Gripping both sides of the white vinyl beneath me, my nails dig for purchase while he fluidly reverses away from the dock. On pins and needles, I wait for the moment the boat will accelerate rapidly. He surprises me by slowing easing us out into the deeper water and once we’re clear of the other boats, we set off at an even, comfortable pace.

My fingers loosen their death grip on the seat as I begin to enjoy the wind in my face and the bouncing of the boat as we plow through the waves. Before I know it, giggles peal out of me as I jockey to remain seated.

Nick slips some aviators over his squinting eyes, his grin broad and white against his golden skin. There’s no mistaking or disguising the joy on his face as his strong hands firmly grip the wheel safely navigating us. I can tell he’s in his element.

We barrel through the turbulent water, my rear end boosting up and lowering down in my seat. The sea spray misting my face feels refreshingly cool and tastes salty on my lips.

Nick picks up the pace as we zoom around the blue water of the Atlantic Ocean for the next hour. “Are you getting hungry?” he shouts.

I nod and give him a thumbs up to let him know I’m on board with having lunch. He drives for a few more minutes before pulling over and shutting off the boat. The craft lurches wildly as the wake from a larger one makes its way to us. Holding on to the seat once again, my laughter is carefree as we seesaw side to side.

Nick lurches to his feet, reaches into the cooler, pulling out two bottles of water and Ziploc bagged sandwiches. Smiling up at him as he hands me one of each, I say, “you made me lunch?”

“I did. I hope you like buffalo chicken wraps.”

“I’ve never had one before.”

“Really?” He quirks an eyebrow. “It’s a favorite of mine.”

Unzipping the bag, I catch a whiff of spicy hot sauce and chicken. “It sure smells good.” Raising the wrap to my lips, I bite the end, moaning while I chew. “It’s delicious.”

He grins. “I’m glad you like it.” Taking a large bite, he chews as his eyes take in our surroundings. He washes it all down with a sip of water. I watch his Adam’s apple move up and down as he gulps the ice-cold liquid. Pushing the final bite of the sandwich between his lips, he places his water on the floor and removes his sunglasses. My breaths stall as I take in his rippling stomach muscles when he unexpectedly tugs his shirt over his head. He carelessly pitches the balled-up tee to the back seat then gulps down the remainder of his drink. He places the cap on the empty bottle, dropping it inside the cooler.

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked you if you have any siblings.”

“Are you asking me, now?”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I reply, “okay, smartass. Yes I am.”

“I have a twin, Tabitha. I always say she’s my younger sister because I was born five minutes before her. She hates it.”

“Wow. Do you guys look alike?”

“Yes and no. We have the same hair and eye color, but she favors my mom and I resemble my dad.”

“Are you guys close?”

“Yeah. I don’t talk to her every day, but we get along. She’s a bit of a spoiled princess. My parent’s think everything she does is great and give her whatever she wants.”

“They’re not like that with you?”

“My mom is, but my dad likes to push and pressure me. He’s not shy about telling me what he thinks I should do with my life.”

“Do you push back?”

“I do now. I used to ignore it and I thought he’d stop, but that plan backfired.”

“Yeah, my dad is a force of nature too. He’s never shy about saying what he thinks, but he’s been pretty good with me since I’ve been back in Boston.” I press the lip of the water bottle to my mouth and take a deep sip. The cool liquid quenches the burning sensation leftover from the buffalo chicken. “He never liked Joseph. I’ve been waiting for his big I told you so moment since we broke up.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to kick you when you were down.”

“Are we talking about the same guy? You know my dad.”

He grins. “Hell yeah, I know exactly what he’s like. He’s not one to beat around the bush or pull punches.”

“Nope, he’s not. And he can piss me off more than anyone.”

“Aren’t you daddy’s girl?”

“I’m closer with my mom. Reagan’s his favorite. She’s the most like him.” The sun’s rays are scorching on my shoulders and legs as we continue to sit here. I need to reapply my sunscreen or I’m going to look like a lobster later tonight. Rising to my feet, I grip the back of the seat to help me balance. Gripping the bottom of my sundress, I lift it over my head then fold it neatly.

“Jeeesus. Give a guy some warning next time.” His stare is so heated, slowly searing every inch of my body in the blue bikini I’m wearing; I break out in gooseflesh. I’ve never had someone view me with such blatant desire before. Fluttering stirs wildly in my stomach as he removes the dress from my grasp, dropping it carelessly over his shoulder to the floor. He grips my hips, fingertips digging into my fair skin as he pulls me closer until I’m standing between his muscular legs. His seated position places my chest directly in front of his face. I flush with a combination of longing and embarrassment. The longing wins out as my palms land on his sun warmed shoulders and then slide up to burrow in his thick, dark hair.

Nick growls, burying his face between my breasts. Peering down, I breathlessly observe as he places a string of soft, wet kisses along the deep valley of my cleavage. Eyes closed, his dark lashes fan out over the tops of his cheeks as he thoroughly covers every inch of exposed skin. My knees weaken, and I lean into him. Strong fingers urge me onto his lap, my knees fall to either side of his narrow hips on the seat. Smoothly gliding his lips up the length of my neck, one hand clutches my ponytail, tightly twisting the long strands around his fist. Our lips crash together hungrily. I’m not sure who initiated the kiss, but I know that I never want it to end. His tongue teases my bottom lip, his teeth biting from one side to the other. My hips reflexively rock against his obvious hard on and the pressure on my clit has me groaning into his mouth.

He tugs my ponytail in answer and runs his other hand down the back of my bikini bottoms to caress over the curves of my ass. “Fuck,” he growls. His mouth trickles down to press a kiss along the delicate skin below my ear. “We need to stop this before I can’t,” he says, resting his head on my shoulder, both of us breathing fast.

Raising my knee I start to crawl off his lap. “Hey, where are you going?” he questions, and I freeze in place. “I’m not ready to let you go yet.” His sweet words and his arms enfolding me melt a little more of the icy wall that surrounds my heart. Every time we’re together he bulldozes his way into my life a little further and it’s surprising how much that pleases me.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Nick

TIME NEVER FLIES as fast as when I’m with Carter. We spent the rest of the day on the water and now that it’s time to say goodbye, I don’t want to. “When am I going to see you again?” I ask, leaning against the hallway wall. My fingers sweep across her forehead to tuck a strand of windblown hair behind her ear.

“When do you want to see me again?” Her manner is playful. I like seeing her this way. It’s a new side that she’s never exposed. She’s slowly letting me in.

“If it were up to me, I’d just move in so I could spend every free minute with you, but I think that might be too much Nick for you at this point.”

“I think you might be right.” She smirks

“Hey.” I poke her in the side. “Be nice.”

“Do you want to come to dinner tomorrow night?” she asks, looking unsure.

“Yes.”

“That was quick. You sure you don’t want to think about it?”

“What’s there to think about? A beautiful woman wants to cook me dinner. I’d be an idiot to turn down that offer.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” she questions, doubtfully.

I caress her cheek with the back of my fingers. “You’re stunning. Looking at you makes it difficult to breathe; my heart races and my stomach feels weak.” She remains silent, staring up at me with wide eyes, shimmering with unshed tears. “Is that an honest enough answer for you?”

Nodding, her top teeth bite into the fullness of her lower lip. A tear slips over her bottom lashes, trailing down her cheek. Catching it with my fingertip, I brush it away. “I know your ex hurt you, but you shouldn’t doubt how gorgeous you are; inside and out. I don’t want you to shed another tear over him.”

“It’s not because of him.”

“I know it’s not directly, but the fact that you’re unsure of your worth is because of him. I swear if I ever cross paths with this dude, I’ll beat his ass for what he did to you. And then I’ll take him out for a drink.”

“Huh? Why would you take him out after?”

“To thank him for being such a dumb motherfucker. If he wasn’t, you and I wouldn’t be standing here right now. And you wouldn’t be making me something delicious for dinner tomorrow night.”

“I see how it is. It’s all about feeding you.”

“I have a healthy appetite, woman.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her and she giggles.

“That was such a cheesy line, but I’ll let it slide since I had such a great time today.”

“I did too. Thank you for coming with me. I can’t wait to take you out again. Maybe next time we’ll bring Noah and Reagan, so we can go tubing.”

“I’d like that.” She glances down the hallway as a door slams shut. We fall silent as one of the other residents passes by us on their way to the front door. “Come over at six, tomorrow night.”

Squeezing her arm, I draw her attention back to me. “I’ll be here, Candy.”

I spent the remainder of my day, lying around, taking it easy. By the time nine o’clock rolls around I’m bored out of my mind and my roommates aren’t home to distract me. I’ve been trying to ignore the devil on my shoulder that keeps prodding me to go knock on Carter’s door, but after drinking more than a few beers and hours of boredom, seeing her seems like a solid plan. Quickly, before I have a change of heart, I grab some provisions and my keys. Pulling the door shut behind me, I cross the wide hallway and knock on Carter’s door. She answers almost immediately, a curious look on her face as she notices my pillow clutched under one arm and a bag of chocolate covered pretzels in my hand.

“I’m here for a sleepover,” I say, gracing her with my most charming smile.

She presses her lips together then taps her index finger to them as if she’s pondering whether to let me stay. “I’m only letting you inside because you brought me a snack.” She steps back, gesturing for me to enter. “Nice Patriots pillow case by the way.” She smirks, locking the door.

“Thanks, my grandmother bought me the matching sheets too. We can have the next sleepover at my place, so you can get the full effect.” I tell her, winking.

“I can’t wait.”

“I bet.”

She rolls her eyes. “Come on, I was just about to watch Mean Girls. Have you ever seen that?” She flips off the overhead kitchen light, flicking on the small one over the stove.

“No and I can’t say I want to.”

“You’re welcome to leave the chocolate covered pretzels and return to your place.”

“Hell no. I’ll suffer through a chick flick if my reward is chocolate and cuddling with you.”

“Which one do you want more?”

“Hmm, that’s a tough one.” I grin, following her into the bedroom.

She pauses beside the bed, arching an eyebrow at me. Climbing under the covers, she settles back against her pillow.

Heading around to the other side of the mattress, I throw the bag of pretzels on the middle of the bed and drop my pillow down in front of the wooden headboard. Kicking off my slides, I strip off my t-shirt and basketball shorts. Her eyes travel greedily over my chest and hard earned six pack. “I meant to ask you earlier, when did you get that tattoo?” she questions, nodding at my left pec where there’s a Boston Terrier wearing a football helmet.

“He’s been with me since freshman year. Brady, Zeke and a few other guys from the team all got them. We did it as a drunken bonding experience.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Hell no. In fact, some of the younger team members recently went and got this same tattoo.”

“I like it. It’s cute.”

“Cute? Don’t you mean intimidating?”

“Nope, I mean cute,” she giggles. “What’s this?” She points to my pillow, where it lies on its side. Flipping it the rest of the way over, she snorts when she recognizes Julian Edelman’s face. “This is just weird.”

“Hey, he’s my favorite player.”

“Like I said, weird. Ooh, do you have a man crush on him?” she teases as I climb between the sheets.

“No, but I’d have a bromance with him. He doesn’t need Tom when he could have me as a friend. We could go out for beers and cruise on my boat. Although he probably has a huge yacht we could party on and rub elbows with all the rich and famous.”

She laughs. “I’m glad you have it all worked out.”

“I’m nothing if not prepared.”

“Okay, well it’s time to prepare to watch Mean Girls. You can’t talk if you want to stay here.”

“What if I have a question about the movie?”

“I think you can keep up.”

“Hit me with it. The sooner we start watching, the sooner cuddle time begins.”

I try to follow along for the first five minutes, but I get distracted by the length of her leg next to mine. Her skin is warm and soft like I remember other parts of her being. And just like that my dick is iron hard. I will it to go away, but it has a fucking mind of its own and won’t listen. Every time she fidgets she rubs against me, turning me on more until my cock hurts. I’ve had blue balls since the day I met her. Every nerve ending in my body is on high alert whenever she’s nearby.

Shifting toward the edge of the bed, I do my best to avoid contact with any part of her and focus on the movie. She’ll probably want to discuss it once it’s over and right now my other brain is the only one that’s functioning.

Reaching for the bag of chocolate covered pretzels, I tear it open. Grabbing a handful, I pop one in my mouth and think about how delicious it tastes instead of the fact that Carter is in bed with me. And she’s half naked, only wearing a tiny tank top and tight shorts. I throw two more pretzels in my mouth. Mmm, salty and sweet...just like her pussy. Fuck.

Flipping the covers off, I practically launch myself out of her bed.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to grab a glass of water if that’s okay?”

“Sure, there are bottles in the fridge. Will you bring me one, please?”

Nodding, I beat feet from the room, heading to the kitchen. Opening the door, I stand there, allowing the cold air to cool my heated skin. I need to get a grip on my control. Maybe sleeping over tonight was a bad idea after staring at her in a bikini all day. I’m only human and she’s built like a fucking goddess...pure temptation.

Grabbing two bottles of water, I remind myself to calm down and take things slow with her as I retrace my steps back to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I hand her the water, keeping my eyes focused on the TV screen mounted on her wall.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, perceptive to my mood change.

Turning my head in her direction, I answer, “yep, all good.” Flashing her a quick grin, I pray she’ll let this drop and not pursue it further. I know I’m acting strange, but she doesn’t need to know why.

Thankfully, she lets it drop, and I shift on the bed until I’m sitting propped against the headboard with pillows behind my back. I’m not sure how it happens, but I watch the rest of the movie without getting distracted by her. It could have something to do with the fact that I’ve avoided looking in her direction for the last ninety minutes.

“What did you think?” she asks, pulling my attention to her. She looks so captivating with her dark tresses spread out over the pillowcase. The lamp on her nightstand gives her skin an ethereal glow. I shouldn’t be here. She’s too perfect for my world. Girls like her go for assholes disguised as good guys and I’m more of a good guy disguised as an asshole. If she’s not willing to see beyond my playful exterior she might not realize there’s more to me.

“It was better than I expected. Rachel McAdams being in it helped.”

“You’re such a guy.”

“I’m glad you noticed.” I flex my biceps and wink at her.

“I hate to cut this party short, but I need my beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, I noticed, but didn’t want to mention it....”

She tugs one of the pillows from underneath her and smashes it into my chest. “You’re not a gentleman.”

Catching the pillow, I snatch it from her grasp, chucking it to the foot of the bed. Scooting down, I maneuver until I’m hovering over her. “I never said I was a gentleman in bed, although watching the movie with you next to me was the ultimate test for my fucking will.” Dropping closer, I rub the tip of my nose down the length of hers then gently brush back and forth over the tip. Her warm breath fans over my lips, teasingly. “What do you want?” I whisper, hoarsely.

“Kiss me.”

Capturing her lips with no hesitation, I roll to my back, pulling her on top of me as our mouths move together, conveying what we’re both fearful to admit. We continue, tongues thrusting, hips grinding until I’m ready to explode. Caught between lust and love; there’s no ride I’d rather be on.

Our lips part and we both gasp, short of breath from our heated exchange. Carter gazes down at me an awestruck expression on her face, lips swollen and wet. We’re fucking magic together. I’ve never experienced anything like this before.

She giggles, shaking her head and I have no idea what’s set her off. “What’s so funny?”

“I just realized Edelman is staring at us.” Chuckling, I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Flip that sucker over or I’m not kissing you anymore.”

I reach behind my head, grip the pillow and throw it off the bed. “Where were we?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Carter

NICK WAS absent when I woke up this morning. After the night we spent kissing and cuddling, I’ve got mixed feelings about this. On one hand there was a sense of relief because there was no morning awkwardness, but at the same time I was wishing I’d been able to slowly wake in his arms.

He left me a note that he was going to the gym to workout with my dad. I know he doesn’t get to train with him as often as he’d like. With the start of football practices, Sundays now have to be designated as MMA training days. My father eats, sleeps and drinks fighting, and Sundays are no exception. He’d train fighters twenty-four-seven if he could.

Taking advantage of another day off, I clean up and organize my apartment. Unpacking the remaining two boxes gives me a sense of accomplishment. Sweeping my eyes around, taking in the bright space, I smile. Seeing my possessions all around me and being able to enjoy my solitude is a big improvement over living with my parents. Not having to answer twenty questions every time I come home or go to leave is another benefit. I love my parents, but I’m twenty-six not eighteen. I don’t want to answer to anyone ever again. I had enough of that with Joseph and his disapproving glares whenever I conducted myself in a manner that wasn’t befitting an aspiring politician’s girlfriend. It’s such a relief to have that pressure off me. Now all I have to worry about is pleasing myself.

It took me a long time to get to this point, but now that I’m here I want to see where things with Nick can go. I’m still afraid to get hurt, but I don’t want to waste any more time than I already have. Fighting the way I feel about him is another way of indirectly letting Joseph still control me. Just because he tore my heart out, doesn’t mean I should expect Nick to do the same. I can’t let one asshole ruin my chance at happiness. Especially, when he’s done nothing to make me suspect he’s anything like Joseph.

Opening the oven, I check the pot roast and potatoes one more time. I peek beneath the lids of the pans with carrots and broccoli, warming on the stove and exhale a large sigh. Everything is ready.

Smoothing a hand over my long hair, still slightly damp from my shower, I glance down at the dark blue jeans that are molded to my legs like a second skin. Fingers plucking nervously along the bottom hem of my blue shirt, the doubts start to creep in and have me ready to climb out of my own skin.

Am I underdressed?

Should I have cooked something else?

What if he doesn’t like pot roast?

What if he wants sex?

Even worse, what if he doesn’t want to be more than friends?

Knuckles rap on the door interrupting the downward spiral of my thoughts. Placing my hand on the steel knob, I glance at the clock, and smile when I notice he’s ten minutes early.

Is he as anxious for my company as I am for his?

Tugging the door open, I grin goofily at him. I’m that excited to see him and I’m not going to hide it. I jump into his arms, without hesitating...or looking. I shriek when I’m pricked repeatedly by something needle sharp. My hand flies to my stomach, lifting up my shirt.

“Whoa, Candy,” he says, putting up a hand to create distance between us. “I brought you a present.” His expression is sheepish as he gestures to the cactus in his hand.

“You brought me a cactus?” I ask and then continue to inspect the red dots on the smooth skin above the waistband of my pants.

“Yep, it reminded me of you.”

“Really?” I ask, more than a little annoyed that something sharp and prickly reminds him of me.

“It’s a beautiful green underneath all the thorns. You just have to see past them because it doesn’t want you to get too close. But when it blooms the colors are so brilliant and beautiful it takes your breath away.”

Pressing my lips together, my eyes trek between his and the cactus and back to him. Shame washes over me as his words make me realize I’ve misjudged the reason. “That was oddly sweet, and the cactus is better than bringing me flowers.”

“Renaissance man, baby.” He winks.

“Yeah, so you’ve said more than once.” My lips curl up on one side as I raise an eyebrow. “I like that you gifted me my first plant for this place. Every time I see it, I’ll be reminded of how you pricked me,” I giggle, taking the black pot from him. “Come on in. Dinner’s ready.”

He rubs his hands together, greedily. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day. I can already taste it.”

“I didn’t even tell you what we’re having.”

“I know, but whatever it is, it will be delicious.”

“What if I suck at cooking?”

“Do you?”

“Nope.”

“Then why are we having this discussion? Feed me, woman.”

I snort. “You sound like my dad and that won’t earn you any brownie points.”

“What can I do to help?” he questions, earnestly.

“Now that might get you somewhere.” I gesture at the plates with my chin. “Help yourself.” Setting my cactus down on the windowsill above the sink, I smile. It’s the perfect spot and looks like it belongs there; kind of like Nick. He’s so easy to be around. Even when he’s pushing me out of my comfort zone, he makes me laugh.

“Are you sure I can’t do anything else for you?” He leans against the counter, watching me like I’m the best thing since chicken nuggets were created.

“Yep, I told you to help yourself.”

“I know you did, but my parents taught me that ladies go first.” He grips the large knife and fork from the counter, efficiently slicing enough meat for both of us, before choosing a portion to plate. When he moves on to dishing out the vegetables, I reach for the other plate.

“Whoa there, Candy. This plate is yours.” Handing it over to me, I stare down at the large amount of food. “Thank you,” I say, even though my appetite is next to nothing. I’m so nervous about this evening. Nick coming to dinner makes it all seem more serious. Maybe it’s my old-fashioned ideals, but for me to contemplate sleeping with someone, I have to care deeply for them. And as I’ve come to realize since the trip to New York, Nick is someone I could fall for - I already am falling for.

Who am I kidding?

I’m gone. He’s got me, but does he want me?

Am I a challenge he can’t resist or something more meaningful?

We settle side by side on bar stools at the island. My apartment is only a one bedroom and space constraints don’t allow for a separate dining area, but this works fine for the two of us.

“What’s going on inside that head of yours?” he questions, flicking a glance my way.

“Nothing good,” I mutter, disgusted with myself for being so transparent.

“Yeah, I can tell by the way you get that cute little crease between your eyebrows.”

My left hand moves up, fingertips smoothing the area he mentioned.

He chuckles. “Tell me what’s on your mind?”

“I’m just being me.” I shrug, forking a bite of meat between my lips.

“I happen to like everything about you. The more I learn the more my feelings for you grow.”

“Where do you see this going?” I question, bluntly. There it is. The monkey that’s been clinging to my back has been set free. No matter what his answer is, I’m already relieved I had the courage to ask. It’s been weighing heavily on me.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this talk? Once we have it, there’s no going back.”

Nodding my head, I lower my fork to my plate. Placing my hands on the cool granite counter, I give him my full focus.

“I already told you, I’m crazy about you, but I’m not sure you understand what my intentions are where you’re concerned, right?”

“Yes,” I sigh.

Turning to face me on the stool, his hand comes to rest on top of mine. His other palm cups my cheek, fingertips gently tracing the delicate skin in front of my ear. “Every minute I spend with you is better than the last. The days we’re together are the best ones.” His hand slides down, heat radiates through me as his thumb traces over the full curve of my bottom lip. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of being apart. I want all my days to be great.”

“What are you saying?” I whisper, anticipation racing through me. I know what I think he means, but I need to hear the words from him.

“Will you be my girlfriend? Can I take you on dates and see you each day? I want to sleep with you in my arms every night that I can.” He leans forward, fingers tangling in both sides of my hair. The warmth of his touch combined with his hazel eyes that are delving deep into mine, imploring me to say yes, has heat radiating through every single inch of my body, especially my heart. No longer the icy shell it was, he’s methodically chipped his way inside and lodged himself deeply. I never want him to leave.

“Yes.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Nick

MY MOUTH STRETCHES into a grin so wide it’s borderline painful. Her single syllable answer might be the most important one of my life up to this point. I want a future with her and knowing she feels the same gives me an enormous sense of relief. “Come here,” I order, my hands framing her face. Leaning forward, I close the distance between us, capturing her lips in a soft, slow exploration. She’s mine now. There’s no need to rush. My tongue swipes salty moisture from her lips and I draw back to appraise the reason she’s crying. “Are these happy tears?” I question, hopeful.

“Yes, they’re ecstatic tears,” she smiles. Her blue eyes shimmer like a glassy pool I want to dive into.

Hands gripping the wooden seat, I pull her stool in my direction. The metal legs make a scraping sound of protest against the hardwood floor as it slides toward me. My arms fold her in tight, my cheek lowers to rest on her soft, shiny hair. This moment is surreal. I’ve wanted her for months and as much as I hoped things would pan out this way, I never fully believed it would come to fruition.

“Make love to me,” she whispers.

My head raises, gaze locking on hers. “We can wait, Carter.”

“I don’t want to. I need you, now. Don’t make me beg.” My eyes flare with desire and sear into her as I slip off the stool and lift her into my arms. Confidently moving toward her bedroom, she’s light in my hold. I set her on the bed and help her remove each article of clothing. My eyes glide over the perfection of each curvy inch as it’s revealed. I can’t believe she’s naked on her bed and we’re about to get a lot closer – emotionally and physically. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Rising to my feet, I strip off my clothes faster than humanly possible.

“Wow, that was quick,” she comments.

“Just call me the Flash,” I grin.

“Maybe now’s not the best time for me to be calling you that.”

Dropping to my knees between her thighs, I lower my chest, brushing my skin back and forth over her pebbled nipples. “Are you doubting my sexual skills?”

Her teeth rake over her bottom lip as she struggles to hold in a smile. “I’m reserving judgement until the end.”

She barely gets the words out before I close my mouth over hers, stroking our tongues together. My hands explore every inch of her body, while our lips stay connected. Cupping her tits, my thumbs swipe over her nipples then circle them.

Catching her gasp with my kiss, my fingertips pinch her nipples, plucking the pebbled tips. She hums, raising her hips. Making her feel good is the most important thing.

My mouth leaves hers to trace a line of meandering kisses down the delicate skin of her neck and onto the top of her chest. My nose nuzzles along the crease between her tits, before my mouth closes around a nipple, sucking and pulling on the taut tip.

Cock sliding along her wet slit, I nudge against her entrance. “I want you,” I growl. I can’t wait any longer to be inside her, to be connected in every way we can.

“Then take me, I’m yours.” She wraps her arms around me, pulling me closer. My hard length pushes slowly inside her wet pussy until I’m balls deep.

“Oh my god,” she moans. Her fingernails dig into the skin on my shoulders.

“I’m just getting started.” I can’t believe I’m inside her; I’ve wanted her to be mine for so long. Now that it’s happening, it’s surreal - and better than anything I’ve ever experienced before.

“You feel amazing.”

I thrust slowly, grinding into her sensitive clit with each stroke, her pleasure is the most important thing to me in this moment. This is how making love should be.

She grips my shoulders, nails digging in as she raises her curvy hips to meet my downward thrusts. Her warm, wet pussy is wrapped so snugly around me, the pleasure is excruciating. The tightness in my chest matches the one in my groin as I fight to hold off my orgasm. We’re on fire, each stroke of my cock fanning the flames further. Lowering my forehead to hers, we breathe in one another’s air as our exhales become quick short pants. My pace quickens, fingertips digging into the fair skin of her hips. I drive into her, slamming her pussy repeatedly until we both unravel.

Collapsing on her, I brace myself on my forearms. Hazel gaze locked with blue, there’s so much being communicated between us with no words necessary. I’ve never experienced anything like making love with Carter. I’ve fucked before and it was great, but what we just did took it to another level. A grin appears on my lips.

“What’s that smile for?” Her eyes sparkle like she has a secret.

“I was just thinking how awesome that was and how I can’t wait to do it again.”

“Yeah it was pretty good.” She rolls her lips inward.

“Pretty good? That was mind blowing.”

“If you do say so yourself,” she quips, eyebrows raising.

“Well, if you’d give me some props, I wouldn’t have to.”

“You rocked my world.” She places a hand on her chest.

“Now you’re just pacifying me,” I growl.

“No, I’m not. Seriously,” she reaches up, cupping my face with her palms. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“It was more than sex to me,” I confess, wanting her to know. When did I become the girl in our relationship? We’ve got a role reversal situation. She’s not great at communicating her feelings or being demonstrative with affection and I’m both of those things. I want to know how she feels about me, dammit.

“It was more than sex for me too, Nick. It’s a little scary to think about how much that meant to me.”

I run the tip of my nose against hers. “That’s what I wanted to hear. I’m just an insecure guy when it comes to you. I need to know that I mean something to you; that you think I’m special.”

“You’re special all right,” she giggles.

“Hey. I’ll remember this when you’re looking for a little reassurance.”

“You know I’m joking, but I shouldn’t be. I’ve never met anyone like you before. You really are one of a kind.”

“Is one of a kind a good thing in your book?”

“Absolutely. One of a kind means I’ve never felt like this before.” I connect our lips once more, swallowing her sigh as one of my hands trails up the inside of her lean thigh. I’ll never get enough of her no matter how many times we’re together.

“O’Shea, get your head out of your ass and catch the fucking ball,” Coach yells across the green expanse of the field. He’s pissed, and I’m not surprised. I’ve had butter fingers all practice and my legs feel weak. Maybe there’s more substance to Noah’s ‘no sex before a fight,’ rule than I’ve given him credit for. It’s not just the sex though. I’ve had that before practice and games with no problem whatsoever. What makes it different this time is that the all-night marathon was with someone that I love. Wait. Stumbling over my own feet, I grin, breaking into a deep, rumbling laugh. I fucking love Carter Collins.

“Are you okay there, man?” Owen Dawson, the starting quarterback, asks, thumping me on the back.

“Yeah, I’m great. Never been better,” I answer, a cheesy smile twisting my lips.

“Oh fuck.” Owen scowls as we move to huddle up.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re in love,” he spits out at me.

“I am, and what’s wrong with being in love?”

“It’s a fucking distraction of the worst kind. We need your head in the game not focused on someone’s pussy.”

“Hey, don’t talk about her like that. She’s not just a piece of ass.” I grip the front of his shirt and get in his face. “She matters,” I growl, teeth clenched, before shoving him back.

Coach blows his whistle. “O’Shea, get your ass over here.”

Owen holds his hands up, taking a step backward. “I meant no disrespect to your girl. I’m only thinking of what’s good for the team.”

“Someday, you’re going to realize there’s more to life than football, Owen.”

He flashes me a skeptical look, before I head toward Coach. “I don’t ever see that happening, dude.” When his words reach me, I smirk knowing it’s only a matter of time before he loses his head over some girl.

“O’Shea, what’s your problem today?” Coach asks, arms crossed over his barrel chest.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“How about you run three miles and try to figure it out?”

“Okay, sir. Is that all?”

“Get your shit together for tomorrow, Nick. You have a lot of opportunities coming your way. I’m sure you don’t want to blow them.”

“No, sir.”

“Get out of here.”

I nod and walk to the bench where my water bottle stands. Squirting some into my mouth, I swallow it down with a sigh of relief. It’s hot and humid this morning and I’d much rather be returning to my apartment, instead of having to run laps, but an order from coach can’t be ignored. Even if I don’t agree, I respect him enough to do as he says.

Setting the bottle back down on the bench along the sideline of the practice field, I walk toward the large track that circles the perimeter. Once my feet reach the paved surface, I set a slow pace for the first lap as my mind wanders to Carter. Last night was easily the best of my life. I can’t wait to see her later. The next six hours can’t pass quickly enough.

Sinking down on the edge of my bed, fresh from a shower, my thumbs race over the screen of my phone as I type out a text for Carter.

Me: I miss your beautiful smile. Can’t you make this day go faster?

My entire body aches after the hours of practice capped off by the three-mile run. It’s a good pain, though. Sore muscles make me feel a sense of accomplishment and that’s never a negative.

Carter: Hey, how’s your day going? Sadly, I haven’t learned how to control time yet.

Grinning that she texted me back, I immediately type out my reply.

Me: Can I take you out tonight?

Carter: I’d like that. Where are we going?

Me: Not telling. Dress casual and bring bug spray.

I chuckle as I read my answer, before sending it.

Carter: Are we going to be in the woods? I’m scared of Bigfoot.

Me: We won’t be in a wooded area. #NoBigfootSightings where we’ll be.

Carter: Okay, #TrustingYou. What time do I need to be ready?

Me: I’ll pick you up at six. Don’t eat. I’ve got it all under control.

I don’t yet, but I will by the time I pick her up.

Carter: I’ll see you then, xx.

Glancing at the clock on my nightstand, I notice it’s only two. Plenty of time to nap before I should get everything we’ll need for our date. I throw my phone on top of my comforter and fall back on my bed, still wrapped in my damp towel. The moment my eyes close, I’m already halfway to sleep.

"Where are we?” she asks. Her eyes scan the area as I park the car and head around to open her door.

“This is my grandparents’ house,” I explain, holding my hand out to help her from my Jeep. “They’re out of town right now for a wedding.”

“Is it okay that we’re here?”

“Of course,” I laugh. “This is basically my second home. Growing up, I spent as much time here as I did at my own house.” I squeeze her hand, grinning down at her. I’m happy she’s with me and I can’t hide it. “Come on, I want to show you one of my favorite things about this property.” Walking side by side, we follow the stone path as it cuts across the front of the yard, running parallel with the enormous white structure. Carter’s eyes are the size of dinner plates as she takes it all in. I know seeing this place for the first time can be intimidating. The two massive fluted columns framing the front door are too ostentatious for my taste. I hope Carter isn’t turned off by my family’s obvious wealth. We’ve spent enough time together for her to realize I’m a down to earth guy who lives simply, well, except for my boat.

We continue along the path, the soles of our shoes scuffing stones, as it gently curves around the side of the house. Her gasp of surprise as she notices the large pond has me smiling. Guiding her along, we stick to the meandering pathway as it elegantly flows around beds of colorful flowers and trees that provide shade for various seating areas. My grandparents love to entertain, and every detail of this backyard was planned out with that in mind.

The stone walkway brings us almost to the edge of the pond. I lead Carter to a bench. “Have a seat. I’m going to grab some things from my Jeep.”

“Do you need help?” she asks, sweetly.

“No, you sit here and enjoy the view.” I stroke my fingers down her cheek. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

“I could get used to this treatment,” she sighs as I row us smoothly across the large pond.

“I hope you do. I’ll gladly row you around here, whenever you want.”

Her blue eyes gleam as she studies me. “You’re pretty good at this. Were you on the crew team in high school?”

“No, I was too busy playing football, but I’ve been taking a boat out on this pond since I was too young to do so.” Leaning back, I stroke the oars evenly through the water, propelling us to the edge of the small island in the middle of the pond. Jumping over the side, my sneaker covered feet splash into the shallows as I pull the boat onto the muddy shore.

“So, this is why you told me to dress casually.”

“Yep, most fun things can be messy,” I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “Here, put your hands on my shoulders,” I instruct her as she rises to her feet inside the boat. Scooping her up, she raises her legs to circle my hips and I walk her to dry land, before setting her safely down.

“That’s service, right there.”

“I aim to please ma'am.” I tip an imaginary cap in her direction and then pivot, heading back to the boat. Grabbing the small cooler, insulated bag and a Boston University Terriers blanket, I retrace my steps back to Carter. “Follow me,” I order as I tread further inland through some trees to an open space. She helps me spread the blanket out evenly over the flat patch of vivid green grass. I place the cooler and bag down on the edge of the blanket. “Take a seat and get comfortable. We’re about to chow down some wings and pizza.”

“I like your idea of a picnic.”

“Hey, what can I say? I’m a man for all seasons,” I joke as I drop down next to her.

“And for all women?” she questions, drolly.

“I wouldn’t say that. I’m a man for only one woman, these days.” Leaning in, I sweep a kiss over her tempting lips. “And that’s the way I plan on keeping it.”

“That’s good to know. Thanks for letting me in on your plans.”

“Anytime.” I wink. “What would you like to drink? I brought water, soda and beer.”

“Drink? Give me some pizza and wings first and then we can talk about the rest.”

“You’re turning me on with your love of food. If you don’t stop, we might not get around to eating any time soon.” Unzipping the insulated container, I remove the large pizza box. Raising the cover, I grab a slice of bacon and slap it on a paper plate. I do the same with the Styrofoam container of wings, selecting a few I think she’ll like. I hand it over to her, along with a napkin before dishing some out for myself.

“Mm, this pizza is awesome. Where did you get it from?”

“It’s Gino’s. Have you ever eaten there?”

“No. Where is it?”

“It’s close to our building, within walking distance. I’ll take you sometime.”

“Yes, please. I need to know where this place is. This is the best bacon pizza I’ve ever had.”

“And you thought I was just a pretty face and charming personality. Stick with me, baby, I’ll show you all the finer things in life.”

“I might be attracted to your perfect teeth too.” She shrugs, looking down.

“Do you have some weird teeth fetish I should know about?”

“No,” she protests, her eyes raising to flash blue fire at me. “No weird fetishes at all. I’m just a sucker for a nice smile.”

“I went through hell to get this smile. Knowing you appreciate it pleases me.” Reaching into the cooler, I remove a beer, holding it out to her. “Would you like one?”

“No thanks. Do you have any soda in there?”

“Yep, I do.” Gripping an ice cold can, I pass it to her, wiping the moisture from my hand onto my tan cargo shorts.

“Thank you.” She lifts the metal tab, releasing a loud hiss of air. My admiring stare is solidly secured on the graceful arch of her neck as she raises the can to parted lips, swallowing down a large gulp. Her lids close as she savors the refreshing taste and when they pop open once more, she notices me ogling her. She fidgets, crossing her legs beneath her like a small child. Plucking the can of soda from her hand, I set it on the grass. “Hey.” Her expression is one of mock outrage.

Catching her chin between my index finger and thumb, I lean into her, connecting our lips for a long, slow, heart pounding kiss. Her tongue is cold from the soda she drank, bewitching me as it sensually strokes my own. The roar of blood rushing to my cock, makes me dizzy and I wrench my lips from hers. “Fuck. I really wanted to be on my best behavior, but you make it impossible.”

She raises her palms. “How? By drinking my soda?”

“Yes. Watching you swallow got me all worked up.” She snorts, covering her mouth with her hand. “Wait, that didn’t come out how I wanted.” Raking a hand through my hair, I’m aggravated at my obvious lack of composure and sexual frustration. “It’s not the thought of you swallowing that got me worked up, although thinking about that has me looking forward to whenever that lucky day might be.” A hint of a smile crosses my lips as I take her hand in mine. “This small island has always been my retreat from whatever’s troubling me. It’s a magical place; my own personal sanctuary.” Glancing at our clasped hands, I notice how fair hers is compared to mine. “Life’s worries disappear once I set foot on this rocky shoreline. I’ve never brought another person here; not even my closest friends. I’ve never imagined sharing this with anyone, but now I’m so fucking grateful you’re sitting beside me.” My grip on her palm tightens. “I like you Carter. Hell, I might even love you, but I promised myself I wouldn’t rush you or pressure you in any way.” Raising her hand to my lips, our eyes lock as I place a kiss on her smooth skin.

Her bright eyes peer into mine tenderly, communicating that she might love me too.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Carter

“I KNOW I’m not great about sharing where I’m at emotionally, but I want you to know that I feel the same. I like you. I like you a lot; more than I ever planned on allowing myself to.” Placing my hand on his shoulder, I slide it up the side of his neck, cupping his cheek. “Caring so much for you is scary and nerve wracking for me. Please promise me if you ever want to be with someone else you’ll end things with me first.”

“Where is this coming from? I haven’t been with anyone or even looked twice at someone else since our first kiss. I don’t want anyone but you, Candy. Christ, I’ve been living like a monk for months now.”

“After last night, I don’t know if you can claim that anymore.”

“Did you forget about this morning?” he whispers, huskily.

My cheeks heat with a flush as visions of him above me, his cock slamming into my pussy, storm my mind.

“What naughty thoughts have your cheeks pinking up so much?”

Raking my teeth over my bottom lip, I lower my eyes shyly. “I’m thinking about this morning.”

“I’ve been having a similar problem myself. Football practice was a bitch. Wearing a cup and having a semi is fucking painful.”

I can’t hold in the giggle that sneaks out.

He releases my hand and narrows his eyes. “I see how it is. You find my pain amusing.”

“No, I really don’t. But the thought of you on a football field with a bunch of other guys and a hard on is pretty funny.”

“I’ll show you funny,” he warns, just before his hands reach my sides. All ten fingertips dig into the sensitive skin below my ribs, tickling me.

Shrieks of laughter fly out of my lips as I fall to my back fighting to escape his method of torture. “Stop...please.” Legs flailing and torso twisting, I do my best to wiggle free, but it’s no use. He’s all over me, relentless, like he’s practicing submissions in the gym. “This isn’t fair,” I pant when he settles between my legs.

“Life isn’t fair, Candy.” The pressure of his fingers eases as his warm palms slip under my shirt and languidly skim up my rib cage. I haul in a jagged breath, stomach sucking inward as his touch transforms into slow, tormenting caresses. The unanticipated change has me moaning his name. His heated gaze stays joined to mine as his fingers trickle across the flat expanse of my stomach, pausing to toy with the button on my shorts.

“Please,” I beg, shamelessly. “I want your hands on me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I whisper, my voice cracking with desire.

“What else do you want?”

“I want your mouth on me.” I can’t believe the words I’m saying. I’ve never been comfortable enough to ask anyone for what I want sexually.

“Hmm, I want that too.” He pushes the metal button through the loop. “You can be my dessert.” Tugging the zipper down, my eyes follow his tongue as he slicks it along his rounded bottom lip. I want to clamp my teeth into the fullness and suck it between my lips.

“I bet you taste even better than I’ve imagined.” Oh god. His words send fiery tingles to my core.

Ripping the shorts along with my tiny green panties down my legs, he tosses them to the side. The blanket is pleasantly smooth under my bare skin. Lowering his torso, he raises my legs over his shoulders, flashing a rakish grin my way, before his mouth closes over my slit.

Air sucks in through my teeth when his tongue slithers from my entrance to flick my clit. My hips raise, and his answering growl vibrates against the engorged flesh. Gripping my hips, his tight hold is borderline painful, but I like it. I love knowing he wants me so much.

He hooks two fingers inside my pussy, hitting the spot that no one else has ever found.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he says, between sucking and circling my clit with his tongue.

Rocking against his fingers, I clasp his head with my hands and push his face into my pussy.

“Fuck, yes,” he growls, deeply. His fingers pick up the pace, and his tongue mimics the same motion against my clit.

“Yes, don’t stop,” I cry, panting as the pressure builds. He drives me higher than I’ve ever been and my legs tremble right before I explode into the most magnificent orgasm of my life. Eyes squeezing shut, pleasure wracks through every inch of my body. My back bows off the blanket, my fingers clench, nails sinking into the taut muscles of Nick’s shoulders. Even my toes curl from the powerful release, heels pressing on his thick back.

Overcome by the moment, my mind is blank. I can’t form a coherent thought; I can barely find the energy to take air in and out of my lungs. My limbs are weak, feeling like there are no bones inside.

Nick’s mouth remains on my pussy, unhurried while he licks up all traces of my orgasm. His dark head raises, and his wet, shiny lips form a mischievous grin. Swiping his arm across his mouth, he crawls forward between my spread legs. Bracing his weight on his muscular forearms, he appears over me. “I could do that all night.”

His hazel eyes trace over my features. “Are you okay?” A small line forms between his thick, dark brows.

“Yes, I’m great. What could possibly be wrong after that?”

“You look like you’re thinking. I’m just making sure you’re not having regrets already. You’re too good to be true for a guy like me.”

“No, my brain wasn’t functioning for a minute. There are no regrets on my end. I’m not some wishy washy young girl who changes her mind on a whim, Nick.” Running my fingers over his bulging bicep, I confess, “I care about you and want to be with you.”

His white smile shines brightly at me. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say those words.”

“Oh, I bet I do.” As happy as it makes me when you tell me how much you care.

His mouth lowers to brush mine. “Let’s get you dressed so I can row us back across before it gets dark.”

“Have you ever slept here?”

“No, I never have. Why? Is that something you’d be interested in doing?”

“It might be fun.”

“You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

“Today and for the rest of this week, I have double football practices and I should find some time to get to the gym for some sparring.” He advances, caging me against the inside of my front door to kiss me goodbye.

After our evening at the pond, we came back to my place and watched some old episodes of Star Trek. I’m not a huge sci-fi fan, but I think I could become one if it meant spending more time with Nick. He was patient with me when I asked questions about the various characters. He probably wanted to shove his hand over my mouth and tell me to hush, but he never showed his frustration. I’m not naive about men and their love of television. He definitely earned some serious bonus points for that.

When it was time to go to sleep, he held me in his arms all night and didn’t try to initiate sex. And it wasn’t that he wasn’t interested. His hard on poking my ass, clued me in to how much he wanted me.

He woke early to shower first and then made me coffee and a bagel, while I took my turn under the hot water. I could get used to having him around, spoiling me, but I’m scared to give someone such an important role in my life again.

Pressing his lips to mine, he tugs me closer, hands roaming over the curves of my ass. “I’m not sure how much free time I’ll have when you’re not at work.”

“Don’t worry, I understand.” Scrunching up my nose in distaste, I continue, “I’m not a clingy girlfriend type.” Leaning my head back against the wood, I observe his handsome face, drinking in the dark stubble dotting his chiseled jawline.

His index finger glides down my nose, tapping the tip twice. “Maybe I want you to be a clingy girlfriend who’ll miss me when I’m not around.”

“I can miss you without being pathetic about it.”

“Touché.” He joins our lips for a final soft kiss. “I’m sure going to miss you. How do you feel about clingy boyfriends?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Nick

ONE MONTH LATER - MID SEPTEMBER

“YOU NEED to clean your room or I’m not staying over anymore,” Carter tells me, her hands on her hips and upper lip curled in repugnance. “It smells like a locker room in here.”

My eyebrow raises, challengingly. “What are you talking about? This is clean.” I hold my arms out, gesturing around the room.

She snorts, strolling across the wood floor, pausing in front of a substantial mound of sweaty, dirty clothes I wore to football practice each day this week. Nudging it with the toe of her sneaker, she flits a disgusted look my way. “You shower after each practice, right?”

“Yeah, it’s the first thing I do when I come home.”

“How about you put the dirty clothes in a hamper when you take them off, instead of a stinky pile on your bedroom floor?”

“I don’t have a hamper,” I reply, smirking.

“Do you have a trash bag, because that will do in a pinch.”

“What’s this thing called a trash bag that you speak of?”

“Nick.” Her voice is stern and unamused.

“Okay, I can put my dirty clothes in a bag if it will make you happy.”

“That’s only the start of what you need to do. You can’t just leave them in the bag. They have to make it to the washing machine.”

“How will they get to the washing machine?” I joke.

She doesn’t laugh. This must be the tone she’ll scold her dental patients with when they don’t brush or floss well enough. It’s reminiscent of a disapproving teacher and kind of hot.

“Do you have a broom?”

“I’m not sure.” I answer, imagining her riding me while I’m in her dentist’s chair.

“Are you messing with me, right now?” Her exasperation bleeds through, quelling my wandering thoughts.

“No. I swear I don’t know whether we have one or not.” Raking my teeth over my bottom lip, I hold in the smile fighting to escape. I really don’t know if there’s a broom somewhere in this apartment or not, but seeing her all fired up is enjoyable.

She rolls her eyes. “You’ve never swept any of the floors in this place?”

“Nope.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “Who does it, if you don’t?”

“Brady and Zeke always did, but now that Brady’s moved out it’s probably Zeke.” Running my hand over my chin, I ponder the situation, further. “Maybe, Trevor? I’m not sure. I don’t really pay attention.” Or care.

“Nick, I find your lack of concern about cleanliness unsettling. You’re a total slob,” she huffs.

“I am, and I’m not ashamed to own it.”

“Well you should be. I’m not going to clean up after you for the rest of our lives,” she sputters.

Although her words are insulting they make me deliriously happy. She mentioned us having a future together and she’s always so careful to avoid doing so. I stalk forward intent on getting to her as quickly as possible. Pulling her into my arms, I kiss the top of her head. “You want to spend the rest of your life with me?” I question, my hoarse voice slightly muffled by her soft curling tresses.

She stiffens in my arms, resting her chin on my chest. Her wide blue eyes are dark as she peers up nervously. “Maybe.”

“What’s this maybe, crap? Tell me, woman.” My hold tightens on her waist. “I’m a man. As it is, I’m insecure by nature and need you to let me know what’s going on in that head of yours. You keep your feelings locked up tighter than fucking Fort Knox.”

She titters. “I’m not that bad.”

“Yes, you are. Tell me how you feel, Candy. I need to hear that you want the same things from this relationship as I do. Otherwise, what’s the point?” Raising my hands, I rest my palms on each side of her face. Her skin is soft and warm, lips temptingly parted. Everything about her is a distraction, but I can’t wait any longer to tell her how I feel. “I’ve been wanting to have this conversation with you for weeks, but I didn’t want to rush or pressure you. We’ve been together for two months now and each day that passes makes me fall for you more.” My hands tighten on her cheeks, my eyes implore her to listen to my words and recognize that I mean them. “I love you, Carter. I think I’ve loved you from the moment I noticed you in that sexy pink dress guzzling champagne like it was going out of style. Or maybe it was the take charge way that you clutched my hand and dragged me off to have your wicked way with me.” She giggles, repeatedly blinking away the sheen of tears, glistening in her eyes. “But it doesn’t matter when I fell in love with you. The most important thing to remember is that I am in love with you and it’s never going to end.” Her eyes shimmer full of joy as she smiles. “I’ll always love you, Carter. I’m never going to give you a reason to doubt that.”

“I love you, too. I really do.”

Fusing our lips together, I don’t give her a chance to say anything else. The words she shared were the ones I needed to hear. We pour every emotion into this kiss; the floodgates have been opened. We both took the ultimate chance, bravely baring our souls for one moment of vulnerability that will alter our lives forever.

“Wow, this place is a lot classier than the dump you used to live in,” I jest, my eyes scanning around Brady and Harlow’s spacious apartment. The smooth hardwood floors gleam with polish and not a scratch in sight. The gray couch we’re sitting on is new and stain free.

“It’s a lot easier to keep clean.” Brady aims a pointed glance my way from the love seat directly across from us.

“Hey, don’t look at me. I’m a neat freak now. I’m so clean I’m squeaky.”

“Hah. Nick and I had a come to Jesus talk about him being a slob. I won’t go over there if he doesn’t clean.” Harlow holds her hand up from where she sits for Carter to pretend high five.

“Way to air our dirty laundry, Carter.” I reply, drolly.

Harlow laughs as usual. She’s always appreciated my humor. “Nice pun.”

I point at her. “That was for you and you alone.”

“Hey, knock that off. You know private jokes between you guys aren’t allowed. You have your own girl now, I don’t need to share anymore.”

While the three of us laugh, I observe Carter’s serious expression on her face. Her brow is furrowed with worry lines and that can only mean one thing. I chuckle, before relieving her concerns. “No, Brady and I never shared Harlow like you’re imagining.”

“Eww,” Harlow shudders.

“Heeeell no,” Brady yells.

Carter’s eyes narrow into tiny, anger filled slits. If she could strike me dead with a glare right now, I think she would. “I wasn’t imagining any such thing,” she huffs.

“Candy, don’t be embarrassed. It’s all good.”

“Can’t say I blame you for wondering, Carter.” Harlow aims her thumb back and forth between Brady and me pointing. “These two were complete man whores. Nothing should be out of the realm of possibility.”

“Hey, I may have enjoyed the company of a few fair ladies, but I was nowhere near the man slut Brady was. He was the champion of one-night stands.”

Brady pumps his fist. “I was, wasn’t I?” He grins.

“Honey, do you really want to celebrate your disgusting sexual history in front of company,” she jerks her head in Carter’s direction. “Not to mention, that your fiancé is standing right here. Remember me? The woman who overlooked your questionable sexual history and gave you a chance.”

His celebratory expression flips to contrite. “Kitten, you know I wasn’t happy when I was acting like a fool. It took your love to open my eyes and I’d never go back to those days. Why would I when I have everything I want right here?” He pulls her into his arms, kissing the top of her forehead.

“Carter, Nick was telling me that you’re going to be starting dental school. Is that something you’ve always been interested in?” Harlow questions.

“Yes, I’ll start in January. For now, I’m working full time under a dentist. I’m only handling the cleanup and set up between patients and some appointment booking, but I love it.”

“I can’t wait to call you Doctor Candy.” I wink.

She smacks me on my chest and rolls her eyes, before facing Brady and Harlow. “He’s ridiculous, but adorable. I think I’ll keep him.”

Harlow laughs. “You might not have a choice.”

“Right? As if I’d let you escape my clutches.” I rub my palms together, gleefully. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I like being stuck with you.” She winks, playfully. I love to see her so carefree, especially with my best friends. She fits right in, like she was meant to be part of the equation all along. She’s the component that’s been missing from my life.

“When are you guys getting married?” Carter questions.

Harlow glances at Brady with a small smile on her pink lips. “We’re waiting until I’m done with school. We’ll get married next summer, maybe have a small wedding on Nantucket.”

“That sounds perfect. I always seem to enjoy the smaller scale weddings better,” Carter offers.

“Me too,” Harlow agrees. “I want to be able to remember who’s there and have time to thank them all for coming. I don’t want three hundred people that I barely know attending.”

“I can understand that.” Carter nods.

“Not, me. I want a big drunken party,” I interject. “Lots of people acting like fools and doing embarrassing things. That’s my kind of time.”

“Sounds like a typical college party to me,” Brady remarks.

“Exactly. Which is why I don’t want our wedding to be anything like that,” Harlow explains. “You dragged me kicking and screaming to too many frat parties over the past two years. Now that you’ve graduated I don’t have to deal with that anymore.” She brushes the back of her hand across her forehead. “Phew. I never thought I’d make it out alive.”

Brady laughs. “Stop being so dramatic. They couldn’t have been that bad. You’re still here with me.”

A fist pounding on the door interrupts the conversation and puts an end to it continuing further. “That would be our dinner.” Brady jumps to his feet, shoves his hand into his front pocket, pulling out some money. As he heads to open the door, the delivery person raps their knuckles on the steel incessantly. “I’m coming,” Brady shouts good naturedly as he turns the knob.

“Did you have a good time?” I inquire as I navigate my Jeep through the city streets.

My eyes skim to the side, noting that the corners of her lips are tipped up. “I did. I really like those guys. They’re a great couple.”

“They certainly liked you. I could tell.” Brady and Harlow had met her once before, but it was at a party with a lot of people and distractions all around. This time it was nice to sit down just the four of us. I wanted them to get to know her and see how amazing she is.

“I hope so. I know they’re important to you.” Her hands nervously clench in her lap.

“Yeah, the two of them and Zeke are my closest friends. Now, you’ve met them all and have nothing to worry about.” We come to a red light and my head turns in her direction.

She rakes her teeth over her bottom lip and cautiously meets my gaze. “So…,” she pauses. “You and Harlow never had anything…uh, you’ve never been more than friends?” she, tentatively questions.

I laugh, the deep sound reverberates around the interior of the vehicle. “No. There has never been a time that Harlow and I have felt anything beyond friendship for one another.” I rest my hand on the bare skin of her toned thigh, squeezing gently. “That’s not something you ever need to worry about. I know with your history you can’t help that your mind automatically goes in that direction, but there’s absolutely no reason for you to wonder about Harlow and I.” I squeeze her thigh once more, leaning toward her. “She loves Brady and we’re like brother and sister. Honestly, she feels more like a sister to me than Tabby does.” The light turns green and my focus returns to the road in front of us.

She rests her hand on top of mine, tracing between my fingers with the pads of her fingertips. Her slight touch has my stomach spinning and my jaw clenching with need. My foot presses down on the gas pedal urging it closer to the floor. I can’t wait to get her home and prove to her, she’s the only woman on my mind.

“How are you feeling?” I question Owen, the starting quarterback of our team as we both run through a series of pre-game stretches on our sideline.

He rolls his neck from side to side. “Great, but I want to get started. This waiting is the worst part.”

Pulling one heel to my ass, I aim my knee to the ground and stretch my quadricep. “Yeah, I hear ya.” Switching feet, I balance on my other leg, repeating the stretch and holding for a twenty count. My gaze sweeps over the rows of seats above where I stand; the section reserved for family members and close friends of the team. Carefully, I search the crowd until I catch sight of Carter sandwiched between Reagan and Kennedy. Her eyes are huge in her stunning face as they sweep around the brightly lit stadium. The large crowd of fans who come out in support of us can be overwhelming if you’re not expecting it. This is the first game of the season and there’s not a vacant seat to be found.

A roaring chant of “Terriers,” starts up and my chest fills with pride. I have so much to be grateful for. I’m playing a sport I love at the only university I wanted to attend. The girl of my dreams is sitting twelve rows up, supporting me and my teammates. And she loves me. What more could I possibly ask for? Maybe, a W for the game? It would be nice to begin the season on a positive note.

Carter’s lips stretch into a smile when she notices me watching. Bringing my hand to my mouth I blow her a kiss then using sign language, say I love you. She echoes the motion back at me and a comically large grin takes over my face when she directs a sharp elbow to Kennedy’s side.

I imagine the conversation going something like, “Aw, you guys love each other. How sweet. So sweet I want to puke.” I’ve gotten to know Kennedy well the past couple of months and she loves to bust balls and push buttons. I’m sure a lot of her attitude has to do with what her ex has put her through. I’m still not sure if he’s completely out of the picture yet. Carter doesn’t like to talk about it and I try to respect that by not asking too many questions.

“O’Shea,” Coach’s deep voice pulls my attention from my girl. Immediately moving to where he stands, I wait for his instructions. “I want you to play smart, but aggressively. I know your heart hasn’t been in the game, but the team needs you.”

“Coach, I always give it my all no matter what.”

“I know you do.” He slaps me on the back twice. “Let’s focus on getting the win today. The rest can wait.” He glances up to where Carter sits before his gaze returns to me.

Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him. “Message received, coach, loud and clear.” I storm away before I say something I’ll regret or that could possibly get me kicked off the team. I’m committed to playing the rest of the season, but that’s all. If he keeps saying shit like he just did, I won’t last until then.

Why is it a problem that I have a girlfriend?

First Owen and now Coach. Who’s next? And how the fuck does he know? Which one of my teammates told him? It’s not like she comes to watch practices. She works full time.

Teeth clenched, I stand with my hands on my hips. My upbeat mood of minutes ago, has suddenly plummeted. Now, I’d rather be anywhere than here. If I wasn’t so competitive, I’d say fuck it and walk out, but my team needs me. Besides, I want Carter to see me play and be proud of my performance.

The first half of the game moves along slowly. Neither team scores on the first few drives, and we can’t seem to get in the groove and find our rhythm. Our play is flat like my mood and I’m sure the spectators are wondering why they’ve wasted their money and time watching this boring game.

Coach sits us all down on the locker room benches and angrily berates us during halftime. I don’t think he’s ever shouted so many four-letter words in such a short amount of time. Bracing my elbows on my knees, my hands dangle between my legs as I stare at the black rubber mats covering the floor. His reprimanding flurry of words turns to white noise in my head. I cancel them out with images of Carter’s riveting blue eyes and her open smile that can dissipate the gloomiest gray of a rainy day.

“O’Shea, you got something amusing you’d like to share with the rest of us?” Coach barks out. Raising my head, I wipe away the smile thinking about Carter has brought to my face. “No, sir.”

“Get your shit together guys or we’re going to be starting the season with a loss,” he grits out between clenched teeth. With one final glare in my direction, he storms from the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The wood rattles on the hinges then settles as it stills. The relieved collective sigh of the team can be heard in the silent space and we all break out into roars of laughter. The lighter moment dispels the dark mood left by coach and when the second half kicks off we play like we want to win, dominating the third and fourth quarters. I catch two receptions for touchdowns and now we’re in the final nine seconds of the game. We line up on the ten-yard line, Trevor calls out his count before the ball is snapped smoothly into his hands. I shoot forward, pushing off the balls of my feet, pounding down the field toward the end zone. My legs and arms pumping, I avoid contact with a defender and the ball sails right into my arms as I cross the goal line. Touchdown. The crowd thunders their approval as they rise to their feet like a wave. I pause in the end zone, tap my lips and point in Carter’s direction before jogging back over to the sideline. She grins widely at me, jumping up and down in celebration. Having her here means more to me than I imagined. Each day I fall deeper in love with her. It’s the greatest feeling in the world.

“Nick, how are you son?” my dad’s voice calls my attention as I exit the locker room. Spinning around, I trudge toward where he and my mom stand like my sneakers weigh a ton. Now that the game is over the adrenaline has worn off and it doesn’t help that I know the purpose of them being here. It’s not that they don’t miss me. That’s not the case, especially with my mom. She sends me daily texts and we talk every few days. But with my dad, every opportunity he gets to talk about my “football future,” he takes advantage of. He doesn’t understand he’s doing irreparable harm to our relationship. He refuses to listen no matter how much I tell him I’m not interested in playing for the pros.

“Sweetie, how are you?” my mother asks, as I fold her into my arms for a tight squeeze.

“Hi, Mom.”

“You played a great game. I’m so proud of you.” Pride shines in her eyes as I step back.

“It’s great to see you. How are you?”

“I’m fine, just missing my boy.” She pats my arm and steps back.

“Son,” my dad comes forward. Shaking my hand, he tugs me into a one-armed hug capped by a thump on the back.

“Dad, nice to see you.”

“Great game. Did you know there were scouts here watching?”

“No, I didn’t,” I answer flatly. Of course, it only took seconds for him to bring up my football future.

“I was a little concerned when I watched the first half, but you got it together nicely for the second.”

“I always try my best,” I run a hand through my hair, still wet from the shower I just took. “I hate to cut this short, but I’m supposed to meet my girl now.”

“Girlfriend?” my mother questions, with a ridiculously large smile on her petite face.

“Yes, mom. Her name’s Carter and she’s awesome. You’ll love her when you meet her.”

“When can we meet her?” she persists.

“When I’m sure you guys can’t scare her off.”

“Hey, I’ve never scared anyone away before. I’m not intimidating at all.” She gestures at her tiny frame.

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” My eyes flick to my father.

“Do you really think getting attached to someone is a good idea when you might be moving across the country once school’s over?”

“And why would I be moving, Dad?”

“You could be chosen by a team that’s not in the northeast. Do you really want a long-distance relationship?”

Gripping my hair, I tug on the strands and then smooth my hand through. “Dad, I don’t want to play for the NFL. I don’t know how many times I can tell you this before it sinks in.”

“Hey, watch your tone,” he barks.

“Dad, I’m not trying to be disrespectful, but you’re not listening to me. I’ve been saying the same thing for six months.”

“Nick, you have an amazing opportunity that thousands of people wish they had.”

“I’m not unaware Dad, but that doesn’t change my mind. I’m not playing football past the end of this season. The sooner you accept that fact, the better.”

“We can talk about this some other time. Think it over.”

I laugh and shake my head. He doesn’t hear a fucking word I say.

“Go see your girl, sweetie,” my mom tells me. She sees and understands my frustration. Unfortunately, my father has tunnel vision when it comes to the idea of me playing pro ball. He’s in for a rude awakening at the end of the season because it’s not fucking happening. This is my life not his.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Carter

“WHAT’S the deal with you and Nick?” Kennedy asks, taking a seat at one of the barstools in my kitchen.

“What do you mean?” I ask, inwardly cringing. I knew this was coming after Nick signed that he loves me, and they noticed.

“How serious is this? You’ve been so tight lipped about him for almost three months now.” Her purple nails tap rhythmically on the granite countertop of the island.

“Yeah, I want to know too,” Reagan chimes in, taking the stool next to Kennedy.

Reaching inside the fridge, I pull out a bottle of water. Holding it up for them both to see, I silently ask if they’d like one. Both nod and I grab two more, before hip checking the door shut. Padding over to the opposite side of the island, the tile is cold against the bottom of my bare feet. Handing off their bottles, I face them. Let the inquisition begin.

“Stop stalling and give us the deets,” Kennedy says. Cracking the cap off her bottle, she takes a sip of the ice-cold water while I determine how much I want to tell them. My sisters are both nosy, but they’re not gossipers. I know they won’t run to anyone with what I confide.

Resting my elbows on the counter, I lean forward. “I’m in love with him,” I tell them, bluntly.

“Wow, I don’t know that I was expecting that answer,” Reagan says, eyes wide.

“Really?” My head tips to the side. “What did you think was going on? I’ve been going out with him for just under three months now and we kissed for the first time like eight months ago.”

“What?” Kennedy squeaks. “You little slut. When did this happen?”

“At Reagan and Noah’s engagement party.”

Reagan frowns. “Hmm, I wonder if it was before or after I told him to stay away from you?”

“It was after. He told me when we were in New York, but you can’t blame him. I was the one who kissed him.”

“See, slut.” Kennedy smirks, pointing to me.

“Takes one to know one,” I quip.

“Does Dad know about you guys?” Reagan asks.

“I haven’t said anything to Mom or Dad. I’m twenty-six years old and I live on my own. It’s not like they have a right to complain.”

“I know Dad thinks a lot of Nick, but is anyone really good enough for his girls?” Reagan questions.

“He never liked Joseph.”

“I didn’t like Joseph,” Kennedy announces.

“Me either,” Reagan agrees.

“Why didn’t you guys say anything while we were together?”

Kennedy presses her lips together. “I’ve had my own issues with bad taste when it comes to guys. How could I criticize your choice?”

“I was in California for most of the time you guys were together, and I didn’t really get a chance to get to know him that well. But whenever we were all together I hated how you acted like a Stepford Wife.”

“Was I that bad?”

“Yes,” Kennedy yells.

“You guys should love Nick then. He lets me be who I am and never controls what I do.”

“Not even in the bedroom?” Kennedy asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

My cheeks heat as visions of being tied up on my hands and knees the other night, invades my mind.

“I think we got our answer.” Reagan gestures at my pink cheeked complexion.

“Can we talk about something else?”

Kennedy rolls her eyes. “So typical of you to change the subject when we’re getting to the good stuff.”

“There will be hot guys at Nick’s tonight.” I casually drop that tidbit of information.

Kennedy leans forward. “Tell me more.”

“Carter this is my younger sister, Tabby.”

“Hi, nice to meet you.” I give her my warmest smile. This is his twin and it’s important I make a good impression.

“Hi,” she answers coolly, barely glancing my way. “Nick, Samantha is here.”

“That’s nice.”

“She wants to talk to you. She’s upset about the way things ended between you two.”

My stomach clenches nervously. I know he has a past, I just never knew any of the names associated with it. Samantha. Great.

“There wasn’t anything between us to end,” he says, calmly. “She shouldn’t turn occasionally sleeping with me into a relationship that never happened. She’s a drama queen. Now I see why you guys are friends.”

Tabby stomps her foot and it’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. “Nick.” She pouts. “You really should talk to her.”

He scowls. “Tabby, I’m not ever going to talk to her about anything. Let me repeat that in case you didn’t hear me the first time. Not evah,” he informs her, his Boston accent coming out more. “You might want to clue her in ASAP because if she tries to discuss it with me, I’ll ask her to leave and she won’t be welcome back. I have a girlfriend and she’s right here.” He slides his arm around my shoulders.

Gee, glad you remembered Nick.

My molars grind so hard they creak as I fight off the tears of frustration tingling my nose. Every time things go well for me in a relationship something happens to make me question it.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I mumble, ducking under his arm. Rushing off before he can stop me, I weave through the thick crowd of people. Opening his bedroom door, I halt when a hand lands on my upper arm.

“Hey, what happened?” Harlow questions me, concernedly.

“Nothing,” I mutter. She’s one of Nick’s best friends and although we’ve gotten to know each other fairly well, I don’t want to put her in an awkward position by talking about what just happened.

“Come on.” Her grip on my arm is firm as she pulls me inside his room. She shuts the door and leans back against it, trapping me inside. “Now tell me, or you can’t leave.” She winks, releasing her hold on me.

“I met Tabby.” I pause, sighing.

“You don’t need to say anymore. I’m well educated when it comes to Tabby’s manipulating ways. She’s not a fan of mine either. She wanted Brady and never got him.”

“Yeah, she barely acknowledged me when we met and then went on to talk about some friend of hers that Nick slept with as if I wasn’t even there.”

Her head bobs in understanding. “That sounds like, Tabby. She’s a witch. It’s hard to believe she and Nick are related. He got all the ethical genes.”

“It wasn’t just Tabby that bothered me. He let her continue rambling about this girl, Samantha, like there was nothing wrong with it. Finally, he mentioned I was his girlfriend. For a while, I wasn’t sure he remembered he had one or that I was standing right next to him.”

“He’s clueless about how to be a good boyfriend. Don’t forget you’re his first girlfriend and he’s younger than you. You’re at different points in your life and that’s bound to cause some disagreements.” Instead of reassuring me like Harlow intends, her words make me worry more. Is our age difference going to cause problems for us?

“Come on, let’s get back out there and have a good time. Don’t let Tabby win.” She opens the door and as we enter the hallway my eyes wander to the open space of the living room, settling on Nick. He’s surrounded by scantily dressed sorority girls and judging by the wide smile on his face, he’s not troubled about it.

“Harlow, there you are,” Brady edges up next to her. “Hey, Carter, how are you?”

I smile, closed lipped. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Do you mind if I steal Harlow away for a few?”

Shaking my head, I answer, “of course not.”

“Chin up, Carter,” Harlow encourages me as Brady sweeps her away.

Gazing back at Nick, I observe as he knocks back a shot before taking another one from the dark-haired girl standing next to him. Tipping the small glass between his masculine lips, he downs the contents, grinning once he’s done. He speaks, but I can’t tell what he’s saying. Whatever words he utters has the group of adoring girls giggling. My stomach heaves with nausea as I watch the same girl press her chest into his arm.

“They look striking together, don’t they?” Tabby appears next to me out of thin air, like a demon summoned by my self-doubt. “My parents are best friends with Samantha’s. They’ve always hoped to unite our families through marriage.”

Unite their family through marriage?

Who says stuff like this?

So that’s Samantha.

Crap. She’s gorgeous. Her sexy outfit screams expensive. That’s not all it screams. She’s a blinking sign advertising sex on a lonely stretch of highway.

What guy isn’t going to jump at what she’s offering?

Glancing down at my jeans and plain black fitted t-shirt, I grimace.

How can Nick want me when he can have someone like Samantha?

Even her name sounds sexy. Not like my masculine name.

Does it bother Nick that I have a boy’s name?

“Samantha graduates this year too,” Tabby continues, reminding me she’s still here. “Whichever NFL team he ends up playing for, she’s free to move with him. She doesn’t have any other commitments. Didn’t Nick say you were starting dental school soon?”

“Yes, in January.”

“Wow, that’s a long-term commitment for you. You must really want to be a dentist.”

“I do. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of doing.” My answer is automatic. I’m thankful I don’t have to think about it because my heart is breaking with each detail Tabby reveals. If she continues much longer, my heart will be a pile of tiny, jagged pieces on the floor.

“I think it’s great you know what you want and how to get there. Nick has his future mapped out too. Has he shared how he’s always dreamed of playing for the NFL and how it’s almost a sure bet now?”

“No,” I whisper, eyes still locked on Nick as he entertains the group of girls.

Is he paying more attention to Samantha or is that just my overactive imagination?

Has he been messing around with her while we’ve been together?

When was the last time they slept together?

Troubled thoughts whirl about in my mind faster than cars racing around the track at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

“There were scouts at the game tonight to watch him play. My father said they’re extremely interested in Nick. I’m thrilled my brother’s dreams are about to come true.”

I think I’m going to be sick.

“Excuse me,” I mumble, pivoting and rushing out the front door. Tugging my keys from my pocket, my hand trembles as I unlock my door. My heart races so fast I almost fall to my weak knees when the knob turns and I’m safely inside. Flipping the lock, I lean heavily on the smooth, cold wood, as I begin to sob uncontrollably.

Tabby’s words replay repetitively in my mind, ringing with more truth each time I hear them. By the time I wash the tears from my face and tuck myself in my bed, I’ve convinced myself I need to end things with Nick.

Why hasn’t he been honest about his future and what his dreams are? I’ve been open with him about mine.

Maybe I’m difficult to talk to.

Have I been a bad listener?

Maybe I talk about myself too much. I’ve been selfish.

Am I holding him back?

I’ve been on the flip side of the coin. Joseph held me back and thinking we were in love, I allowed it. Nick says he loves me and I’m the most important thing in his life.

Am I the reason he’s changed his plans? I can’t allow that to happen.

I won’t be that girl.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Nick

“HEY, dumbass. Can I talk to you?” Harlow taps me on the arm.

“Yeah sure. Ladies, if you’ll excuse me,” I flash a smile at the group.

Harlow’s fingers close around my bicep, nails digging in as she storms off, tugging me along. We navigate through the groups of conversing people, her hold on me not loosening. I grin down at the top of her head as she angrily marches on. She’s tiny, only half my size, but tougher than she appears.

Once we’re safely inside my bedroom she slams the door shut, whirling on me like a tornado switching direction. “What’s your problem?” Her hands go to her hips, a fierce scowl pinching her brow.

“What are you referring to?” I have no idea where this is coming from.

“Did you forget that you have a girlfriend?”

“No, of course not.”

“Do you know where your girlfriend is?” She stalks two steps closer.

“Yeah, she’s here somewhere.”

“Um, no she’s not, dumbass. She went home, and do you know why?”

“No.” Shaking my head, I listen intently.

“Between your sister’s rude treatment and your fan club falling all over you, are you honestly surprised she left?”

“Shit.” My lids lower for a second, shuttering the flare of emotion in my eyes. I am a dumbass.

She whacks me on the chest with the back of her hand. “Yep, shit. What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know. What should I do?” I’m new to being in a relationship and I want to make sure I’m doing what’s best.

“The first thing you need to do is to go over to her place and straighten this mess out before it snowballs. Once you work things out with Carter, you’d better set your sister straight. She isn’t nice, and your family just pats her entitled head, allowing it.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Hey, she’s not that bad.”

“Yes, she is. I never told you how she deliberately dumped a drink on me at a frat party when Brady and I were first together. She made sure to warn me that he didn’t like nice girls like me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” My brows dip down in the middle.

“Because she’s your sister and we had only just met.” Her wide, gray eyes are solemn in her fair skinned face.

“Yeah, but why haven’t you since then?” My brows press together creating a painful tension in my forehead. “We’ve been friends for a long time now.”

“Tabby isn’t a factor in my life and I’ve never seen her do anything that would be hurtful to you; until now. She was in Carter’s ear while you were busy with all your castoffs and admirers.” Waving her arms wildly, she gestures to make her point. “I can only imagine what bullshit Tabby spoon fed her and Carter is insecure enough to swallow her lies.”

“I’m sorry about my sister. I’ll have a talk with her.”

“Nick, you need to reign her in and don’t be gentle about it. She needs to learn that it’s not okay to screw with people’s relationships.”

“I’m going over to Carter’s now. I can’t believe she left,” I spit out, bitterly.

“Whoa dude, you need to slow your roll. What if the situation were reversed and she was talking to Joseph instead of paying attention to you? Would that be okay?”

“Fuck no; not at all.” Briefly pressing the heels of my palms into my eye sockets; I’m frustrated and feeling helpless. “I understand the point you’re making. I wasn’t flirting with those girls. I was just being myself.”

“I know that, but Carter doesn’t. Maybe next time you should be a little less of your charming self.” She winks. “Go get your girl, dumbass.” She pokes my side as I pass and hurriedly open my bedroom door. Pivoting around as I clear the doorjamb, I settle a wounded expression on my face.

“Harlow, name calling is hurtful. You need to be more careful with my feelings. I’m a sensitive guy.”

Her sputter of disbelief follows me down the hallway. I juke in and out of partygoers as if I’m on the football field trying to bulldoze my way into the end zone instead of out my front door.

I’m across the hall and knocking on Carter’s door before I’ve worked out what I need to say. Sucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I rap my knuckles on the wood. “Carter.” Shouting her name, ear pressed close, I listen for signs of movement on the other side of the door. The dull thrum of the bass coming from my apartment makes it tough to hear. “Carter, let me in.” My tone is louder and deeper as I pound the wood. She’s not going to answer.

Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I type out a quick text.

Me: Carter, please let me in. I need to apologize in person for being an ass.

Carter: I don’t feel well and I’m in bed. Talk tomorrow.

Why do I get the picture that she’s pretending to be sick to avoid me? But if I keep pounding on her door, it’s not going to help the situation any.

Me: I know you’re mad, but I hope you’ll give me a chance to talk to you tomorrow. Get some sleep. I love you.

Carter: Night

Shit. This isn’t good.

Pacing back and forth like a caged animal, a combination of anger and frustration hums through my veins. Carter won’t let me in and she’s giving me the brush off in a text. I’m fucked and there’s no one to blame, but myself. I can already feel her slipping away. My chest heaves raggedly with each inhale of air as my temper escalates. Clenching and unclenching my hands, I fight the urge to put my fist through the smooth white wall.

“Nick,” Brady’s deep voice comes from behind me.

I pause my frenzied pacing and turn to face him. I’m sure he can see the tumult of emotions I’m experiencing; not to mention my gritted teeth and uneven breathing. I look completely unhinged.

“Harlow told me what happened.” He shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Awkward silence falls between us while I wait for him to continue, but he struggles to find the words. He rakes a hand through his hair, in frustration. “Let’s get some fresh air.” He gestures to the main entrance with his blonde head.

“Yeah, I could use some,” I agree, knowing that if I remain inside I’ll do something I’ll regret. I don’t want to give Carter any more ammunition.

“Where are you guys sneaking off to?” Zeke calls out as he closes our apartment door behind him.

“We’re getting some fresh air,” Brady answers while my feet rapidly move toward the exit. I can hear the soles of their sneakers squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor behind me as I step outside. I greedily pull the humid night air into my tight lungs like a drowning man drawing in his first breath after surfacing.

“Let’s walk to C’s Pub and grab a beer,” Zeke suggests.

“I’m game if you are,” Brady replies.

“Why not?” My reply is a hoarse croak. No one comments and the three of us head down the sidewalk. Rolling my shoulders forward, I shove my hands in the pockets of my cargo shorts. The typical sounds of the city at night wrap around us like an invisible cloak. The smell of cigarettes and marijuana waft over, teasing our noses.

“When was the last time you got high?” Zeke questions.

Brady laughs. “Dude, I can’t even remember, it’s been so long.”

“Last week, with your brother,” I inform.

“Trevor smokes weed?” Brady looks surprised.

“Yeah, daily. How do you not know this?”

“Where was I when you guys were having all the fun?” Zeke inquires.

“I believe you were working late.”

“I can’t believe Trevor smokes.” Brady shakes his head with disgust.

“What’s the big deal? It’s legal here.” I shrug, hands still secured in my front pockets.

“I don’t know. He’s my little brother. I don’t want to think of him growing up.”

“He’s a sophomore in college. Do you think he’s a virgin too?” I arch a brow, skimming a glance Brady’s way. “He’s got a different girl in his room at least twice a week and I don’t think they’re playing Monopoly in there.”

“No, of course not. I know he’s not innocent, but it’s hard to believe he’s in college. I’m a little jealous he gets to live with you guys. You’re my boys; not his.”

“Aw, do you miss us?” Zeke asks with a smirk.

“Not at all,” Brady deadpans.

“How’s married life?” I throw out the question.

“We’re not married yet.” He grins, aware that Harlow’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

“I know, but you might as well be. You guys act like an old married couple,” Zeke inserts, gripping the door handle to C’s Pub. Strolling inside, I follow with Brady bringing up the rear.

Finding an available table at the back of the bar, we settle on the stools and order what’s on tap from the waitress.

Conversation resumes once she’s placed our frosted glasses down in front of us and has wandered over to the next customers.

“What’s going on with you, man?” Zeke queries, studying me.

“Carter saw me talking with Samantha and some of her sorority sisters and got upset.”

“I don’t want to stick my nose in,” Brady begins with a smirk, “but Harlow mentioned that Tabby was the real problem.”

Dragging a finger through the condensation on the outside of my glass, I hesitate to answer. What can I say? Nothing is going to change the outcome of tonight. I’d rather just put it out of my mind and deal with the fallout tomorrow. Besides, I’ve finally cooled down and discussing it will only get me fired up all over again. “Can we not talk about it? Let’s just hang out like always.”

“Sounds good to me,” Zeke bumps his fist against mine.

“Brady, how do you like the radio gig?” I’m curious if he has regrets about not playing ball anymore.

“Dude, it’s the greatest thing I’ve ever done. I made a solid choice when I took that job.”

I guess that answers my question.

“Did you figure out what you’re going to do next year?” He turns the tables on me.

“I’m not playing ball, I know that. I’ll probably get an internship somewhere.”

“Why wouldn’t you go work for your dad?” Brady enquires.

“I might.” Raising the glass to my lips, I swallow down a large gulp of the draft beer. “I’m not sure he’ll want me to work for him unless I continue to play. He’s pressing me to go pro and I’ve told him I have no interest.”

“Fathers tend to pressure their sons. I’ve dealt with it myself. It’s good you’ve been honest with him, even if he’s not ready to accept what you’ve decided.” Brady’s no stranger to fraternal pressure. His father played for the NFL and had high expectations for his son to continue his legacy.

“I figure it’s bound to sink in once I’m not playing anymore. Hello reality check,” I joke, raising my glass in a silent toast.

“Ouch, poor dad,” Zeke jokes.

I scowl. “Fuck that. It’s his fault he’s such a stubborn ass.”

“My dad still wants me to go into television broadcasting, but at least he gave up on his dream of me playing ball. I explained to him that my current job is a stepping stone to bigger things, but he doesn’t seem to get it.” Brady sips on his beer, licking the froth from his lips, before continuing. “Our dads need a twelve-step program for letting go of control.”

“You got that right.” I tip my glass in his direction.

“Zeke, what’s new with you?” Brady questions.

“I’ve been working crazy hours and I recently got asked if I’d be the offensive line coach for a semi-pro football team.”

“That’s awesome.” Brady holds his hand up for Zeke to high five. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m thinking of accepting the job. It would mean working a few nights a week and some weekends, but what else do I have to do?”

“It could lead to other opportunities,” I add.

“I’m focusing on work right now and building my future. I wasted too much time with Claire and I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out,” Brady mentions.

I smirk as I mull over their words.

“What’s going on in that warped brain of yours?” Zeke questions.

“We can map out our futures and try to do what’s right until we’re blue in the face. All it takes to blow those carefully laid plans out of the water is one glance at the right woman.”

“Fucking truth,” Brady replies and Zeke nods his agreement.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Carter

PUFFY, bloodshot eyes greet me in the bathroom mirror as I brush my teeth. Spending the night crying and unable to sleep has a way of taking its toll. I look like crap, but I feel even worse. My stomach burns like there’s a pit of bubbling lava inside and nothing seems to soothe it. I tried eating something late at night and taking an antacid, but it was no use. Maybe I’ve suddenly developed a stomach ulcer. Is it possible to get one in less than twelve hours?

After the devastating turn last night took, I’m thankful I don’t work on Sundays. A day of sitting in my pajamas and feeding my face until my heart aches less seems like a solid plan.

Running the brush through my hair, I work out the tangles then fasten the long sandy brown tresses into a ponytail.

My feet have barely cleared the bathroom threshold when there’s a knock at my door. Nick. It’s gotta be him. Who else would knock on my door at eight o’clock on a Sunday morning? My knees go weak at the thought of having to see him...of having to speak with him. Walking steadily to the door is a challenge. My gait is similar to someone who’s been out on a bender, not a person who didn’t have a single drink and just woke up.

Tugging the door open, I lean against the wooden frame. Crossing my arms over my chest, my eyes have a mind of their own as they eagerly drink in his broad shoulders and muscular neck.

Traitorous bastards.

Why can’t they stay locked on his hazel orbs?

Because you don’t want to see his concern and love shining there.

“Nick, what are you doing here?” My tone is harsh like I intend it to be. If I give in now, he’ll never achieve his dreams.

If you love someone set them free…I’ve always disliked that saying and now that I’m in this situation it sucks even more.

If you love someone and they love you back, don’t ever let them go.

Hang on as tight as you can, until you can’t hold on anymore.

That’s how I think love should be, but I guess there are always exceptions to the rules. Nick’s not going to want to let me go; I have to be firm in my stance. He doesn’t understand what giving up your dreams for another person can do to your spirit, like I do. I don’t ever want him to regret us.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. You left the party early.” He stares down, leaning closer. His concern for me is evident in his expression and body language.

“I’m fine. Do you want to come in?” At his nod, I step back, allowing him through. Closing the door, I briefly lean into the thick wood hoping to gain strength. “Go sit down,” I urge, needing some space between us. This isn’t going to be easy. Every nerve in my body calls out to him. I want to wrap myself around Nick and never let him go, but Tabby’s words continue to repeat in my mind, like an old record needle endlessly skipping. “Nick has his future mapped out. Has he shared how he’s always dreamed of playing for the NFL and how it’s almost a sure bet now?”

Joining him on the couch, I choose a seat at the other end. If we’re within three feet of each other I’m going to climb into his lap and beg him to take me with him wherever he goes. California, Colorado, Washington, it doesn’t matter what team he plays for. I’d give up dental school again just to be with him, but I can’t do that. I have my own dreams and I’m not giving them up this time.

Not even for Nick.

“Last night I did a lot of thinking,” I begin.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Nick replies, a serious expression on his handsome face. Fuck. He’s so damn gorgeous.

Focus Carter.

Do the right thing.

Lowering my eyes, I carefully avoid contact with his. “I want to break up,” I blurt out, gracelessly.

“What?” His deep, hurt filled whisper has my eyes flying to him. I was expecting a shout of anger, not one ragged word containing a vast sea of hurt. And the devastation on his face makes my stomach tumble nauseously. Hurting him is the last thing I want to do and seeing it first hand is tearing me apart. But it’s better to do this now than to have it happen somewhere down the road. I can’t go through that scenario again; Nick is not Joseph. There’d be no getting over him after investing three years of time.

Who am I kidding?

There’ll be no getting over him after spending the past three months together.

“I can’t do this anymore. I thought I was ready to be in a relationship, but I’m not.” My eyes dart around looking at anything but him. I’m winging this as I go. I thought I’d have more time to work all of this out in my head. I wanted to have a speech ready and make this break up as believable as possible. I expected him to be hungover and sleeping in this morning, not sitting on my couch.

“It’s a little late to tell me all this, don’t you think?” He stands and begins pacing. “Why are you doing this?”

“I told you…”

“Don’t feed me some bullshit excuse,” he yells. Raking a hand through his hair he inhales deeply calming down. He pauses in front of me. “I deserve better and I’m not gullible. What did Tabby say to scare you off?”

“Nothing.” I stare at the floor.

“Carter, give me some credit. I know something happened to make you have a change of heart.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. I thought it would be okay, but it’s not working for me.” My eyes meet his uncertain hazel ones.

“Call me when you’re ready to be honest. I don’t have time to play fucking games.”

His words have barely registered when the deep thunder of the slamming door makes me cringe. My head falls into my hands as I burst into tears. That was horrible. I hate that I had to hurt him so much. Nick has never been anything but kind and loving with me. What I did to him might have been motivated by love, but it ripped both our hearts to shreds. How am I going to see him around without throwing myself at his feet and apologizing? As it is right now, I want to run across the hall and beg for his forgiveness.

Rising from the couch, I trudge to my bedroom. Flipping back the covers, I climb on the mattress and bury my face in my pillows. Closing my eyes, I think about the day we spent out on his boat. That was when I knew for sure I wanted him to be a part of my life. My thoughts trickle back to the first time I saw him, and I let my mind replay every minute we’ve spent together since. Alternating between smiling and crying, the emotional upheaval has me exhausted. I close my eyes once more and allow myself to drift off to sleep.

I’ve been out of sorts all day. No matter how hard I tried to focus at work, I couldn’t get my foggy mind to clear. I’m lucky Dr. Banyon didn’t seem to notice or if he did, he was nice enough to give me the benefit of the doubt this time.

By the time I enter the front door to my building all I want to do is eat dinner, climb under my covers and forget the last twenty-four hours.

There’s a box addressed to me, sitting in front of my door, gift wrapped with bright pink paper. Picking it up, I tuck it under one arm and unlock the door with the other hand. Once inside, I kick my shoes off and slide to the kitchen on my sock covered feet, too tired to lift them for each step. Placing the package on the granite counter along with my keys, I stare at it like it’s a bomb about to explode. Who would leave a gift in front of my door?

Could it be Nick?

There’s only one way to find out. Sliding my index finger under the seam, I tear the paper open, exposing a white box. It’s not small enough to contain jewelry and it’s not big enough to be clothing. Opening the top tab, I lift the cover and peer inside. White tissue paper is all I can see at first. Reaching my hand inside, I pull out the wrapped item. It’s hard circular edge clues me in that it’s a mug of some sort. Ripping away the remaining tissue paper, I find a white mug with the name Candy on it. I smile, solemnly. Guess I know who it’s from now.

On closer inspection, I notice he’s tucked a note inside. Pulling it out, my heart pounds as my eyes scan over the jagged, masculine script on the lined paper.

Candy, I picked this up that day we spent walking around New York City together. I hope it reminds you of what a great time we had and brings a smile to your face.

Thinking about that day does bring a smile to my face. Of course, said smile is accompanied by tears leaking out of my eyes and trailing slowly down my cheeks. It’s been less than thirty-six hours since I’ve seen him, and I already miss him more than I imagined I would. I’m not sure how I’ll survive living across the hall from him and also attending the same school. At least we won’t have any classes together.

Even if by some miracle I can avoid him as much as possible, he’s still friends with Noah and Reagan. I’m never going to be able to get away from him completely.

How will I feel when he starts to date someone else?

Sleeps with someone other than me?

Shit, I don’t want to think about that right now. I can’t. It’s all too fresh and the pain of missing him burns in my chest.

Setting the mug down on the counter, I tuck the note back inside. I need a shower and some food before I can indulge in any more torturous thoughts about Nick O’Shea.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Nick

MY TIGHT LUNGS burn as I power through mile seven on the treadmill. I usually don’t run at a speed this high, but today I need the painful distraction. It’s been three days since Carter broke up with me. Seventy-two hours since I’ve set eyes on her, but it seems like a year. Stepping off the treadmill, I gasp for air and grab the small towel slung over the machine. Quickly mopping the sweat from my face and head, I drop the towel to the matted floor. Picking up my bottle, I squirt water into my mouth and sigh with relief as it soothes my parched throat.

My gaze wanders around the busy atmosphere of Collins’ Fight Club. Being here makes me feel better than I have since Sunday morning when I last saw Carter. This place has become a second home for me and my training partners are like an extended family.

Dropping my water bottle to the floor, I grab a kettlebell and begin a ninety second series of high pull swings. My shoulders and arms are screaming when the time is up. I take a fifteen second rest before starting in on ninety seconds of burpee sprawls. Up next comes medicine ball slams that I do with a twenty-five-pound ball and at a maddening pace. Grabbing my water bottle, I shoot some into my mouth and try to slow my breathing. Throwing the bottle down on the floor, I drop to the mats for some rotational mountain climbers.

“Nick, can I talk to you in my office, please,” Jimmy, my trainer asks. His serious tone lets me know that whatever he wants to talk about can’t be good.

Shit. Does he know that Carter and I have been dating?

“Sure,” I say rising to my feet. Bending over, I drop forward, placing my hands on my knees and try to catch my breath.

“Now,” he orders as he walks away.

Damn. He’s pissed about something. Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I pick up my towel and water bottle from the floor before heading toward his office. My heart thunders ominously with each step I take.

“Close the door.” He’s seated behind his desk, hands steepled under his chin. “Sit down.”

Sinking into the hard chair on the other side of his desk, I wipe the perspiration from my face one more time.

“What’s going on with you today?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can tell that something’s on your mind. What’s wrong?”

Huh? Is this for real or am I being punked? Jimmy is not the type to get in touch with his feelings and ask if you’re okay. “Nothing’s wrong,” my answer is deceptively calm.

“Nick, I’m not dumb. I know about you and Carter.”

“You do?” Fuck me.

“Come on, kid. I know everything.” He smirks, arrogantly.

“Everything?” I question, skeptically.

“I saw the way you looked at Carter the night of Reagan and Noah’s engagement party. You were smitten immediately, and I knew you’d be good for her. You’re dependable, hardworking and loyal.” He ticks off each trait one at a time.

“Gee Jimmy, I thought you’d never notice,” I chuckle.

His expression remains neutral as he ignores my reply. “Joseph was an asshole. I never liked him and his soft hands. What kind of man has softer hands than a woman?”

“A pussy?”

“Exactly and one that I don’t want my daughter marrying.”

“Let me get this straight, you’re okay with Carter dating me?”

“Okay with it?” He pokes his chest with a finger. “I’m the one who cancelled her hotel room, so she’d have to stay with you.” He grins, proudly.

“You sly dog. I assumed that was a legitimate mess up on the hotel’s part. I never imagined you were tugging on the strings like some crazy puppet master. Or should I call you cupid?” I bark out a laugh.

“Hey.” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “I only did what I thought was necessary and I haven’t seen my daughter this happy in a long time. Hell, I’ve never seen her this happy.”

“Have you seen her the past few days?”

“No, why?” His forehead creases with frown lines.

“She broke up with me on Sunday. I haven’t seen or heard from her since.”

“What are you going to do to get her back?” His tone turns gruff.

“I’m not sure yet, but I’m not giving up on her. I love her too much,” I explain, baring my soul.

“There’s a charity function this coming Saturday night and you’re going to be there.”

“I am?” My eyebrows raise.

“Yep, you are. Reagan and Noah are bringing Carter. That will give you an opportunity to talk to her and convince her that you’re the guy she needs.” He lowers his hands to his desk, leaning on his muscular forearms. “Don’t let me down, Nick.”

“No sir, I won’t.” Rising from the chair, I reach across the desk and shake Jimmy’s hand. For the first time all week, I feel hopeful I can get her back.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Carter

THREE DAYS LATER

“REAGAN NO. I don’t want to go.” My tone is annoyingly whiny, and I don’t care. I’ve been in a horrible mood for five days now. Ever since Nick walked out my door for the last time and I haven’t heard from him since. The package he left on my doorstep is the only reminder he still lives across the hall. I haven’t seen him at all and I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve been looking. My eyes search around hungrily for him wherever I go as if he’s going to magically appear.

If only that were possible.

“You’re coming with us; no excuses. I brought you a dress and shoes to wear. Kennedy is coming too. She’s getting ready at her place as we speak.”

“Why can’t you guys let me wallow in my misery for a little longer? I left you alone when you and Noah broke up.”

“You weren’t living here at that time so don’t even go there. If you had been you would have dragged me off the couch, too.”

“Fine. What’s this function for?”

“It’s a charity black tie event. There will be a lot of well known, wealthy people there.”

Shaking my head, I blow out a deliberate sigh, reluctantly rising to my feet. “I hate getting dressed up.”

“Carter, suck it up. I’m not listening.”

“You’re so bossy.” I curl my upper lip. “I’m not taking another shower. If I smell it’s on you.”

“Just get your ass in your room and get ready. I told Noah we’d meet him there in forty-five minutes.”

“Yes ma'am.” I salute sarcastically before I head to my bedroom to do as I was told.

“Oh my god. Why did I let you talk me into coming,” I grip Reagan’s arm, hard enough to make her wince. “Sorry.” I grimace. Joseph and Lisa are here and from the looks of her enormous stomach, she’s ready to deliver a baby at any second. My eyes briefly squeeze closed as I remind myself to calm down. I’m not the same girl I was nine months ago. He can’t hurt me anymore unless I give him the power to.

“Carter, ignore them. He’s a spineless worm.”

“It’s fine...I’m fine,” I state flatly before stalking in the other direction toward the bar. If I ever needed a drink, now’s the fucking time.

I wave my hand to get the bartender's attention before I’m even standing in front of him. “Can I have a Zombie, please?” Leaning my elbows on the bar, I rest my forehead on the heels of my hands and curse fate for this cruel joke. Of all the people who could be here, why does it have to be them?

“Did you hear the one about the zombie who walked up to the bartender and said, ‘make me a zombie’?” Nick’s deep voice cuts into my momentary despair.

Speaking of cruel jokes.

My head raises, and my eyes eagerly look him over starting with his dark mussed hair that looks like he just went to war with it. Judging by the way his messy strands rebelliously curve up in front, I’d say his hair came out the victor. Running my fingers through the thick softness is…was one of my favorite pastimes.

My gaze resumes its perilous journey, trailing over each hard-bodied inch of him. He looks hot. Help. I’m in danger of losing my heart.

Too late. He stole it the second our lips touched for the first time.

“No, I can’t say I have.”

He smirks. “The bartender replied, looks like someone already has.”

“Ha-ha.” I roll my eyes. “That was lame. What are you doing here?”

“What’s the matter, Candy? Didn’t expect to see me here?” He quirks his brow and it arches sexily.

Arches sexily?

Why am I noticing his eyebrows and finding them attractive?

I’ve never found so much to love about one person before.

“No, I didn’t expect to see you, but what surprised me even more is that Joseph and his wife are here.”

“That’s a nice turn of events. Show me where the rat bastard is so I can kick his ass for you.”

“You don’t need to kick his ass.” Raising the glass, the bartender set in front of me, I down half the beverage in one gulp. “In fact, I don’t want you to touch him at all. He can live out the rest of his life with that miserable, backstabbing bitch.”

“Tell me how you really feel,” he jests. “I know you said not to put my hands on him, but I just want to make sure you know that I would if you wanted me to. Hell, I’d do it for no other reason than it would be fun.” He flashes me a grin, raising his eyebrows up and down.

“No fights, tonight. This event is to benefit battered women. I don’t think getting into a fist fight sets a great precedent; even if it’s a guy who deserves to have his ass kicked.”

“Gotcha. I promise, I’ll be on my best behavior. Do me a favor and point out Joseph to me. Then if I bump into him some other time, I can beat his ass.”

Pointing my finger toward Joseph across the hardwood floor of the reception room gives me a weird sense of satisfaction. Especially when Lisa notices and mouth gaping, taps him with the back of her hand. She jerks her chin in my direction and Joseph’s gaze follows. It’s like it all happens in slow motion, as I watch the realization sink in that I’m here. He looks alarmed like he might flee. His panic-stricken expression has me giggling out loud.

“How did he land a babe like you?” Nick questions.

“We met in the library at school. He seemed harmless enough.” I knock back the rest of my Zombie and signal for a refill by pointing to my glass.

“Isn’t harmless just a nice way to say boring or safe?” Nick asks.

“Maybe. But he didn’t turn out to be a safe choice, did he? I was wrong on all counts with him.”

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” His voice is a deep rasp next to my ear. Chills run down my body like fingers sweeping across the keys on a piano. I shake my head, not trusting myself to answer. I miss you would be the wrong reply to what he said, but those are the words I want to say more than any.

Reaching for my refill as if it’s a lifeline in a violent sea, I tuck the rim of the glass between my lips and pray the alcohol will numb this painful need that I have for Nick every time he’s near...and every time he’s far. The distance doesn’t register with my heart. It wants what it wants and that’s Nick. No more; no less.

“Hey, look at me, Carter,” he directs.

Turning my head, our eyes meet, and I lose my train of thought to the beautiful hazel color. So many varying shades of brown, gold and green, combining to create a stunning palette of colors.

“What do you say, you and I have some fun and worry about the details tomorrow?” The dimple in his left cheek teases as he grins crookedly.

My gaze travels to Joseph and company. Sit here and feel sorry for myself or spend some time with the guy I love? Not really a contest in my book. “What do you have in mind? And just so you know, clothing is optional as far as I’m concerned.”

“I like the way you think, Candy. I know just the thing for us to do that will have you screaming out in no time.”

Immediately, my mind takes his comment to a dirty place and I hope to fuck I’m right. Fun and naked time with Nick is exactly what I need. And maybe a couple more drinks before the night is through. Tipping my head back, I swallow down the remainder of the cold liquid. It burns pleasantly down my chest and makes my limbs relaxed and heavy with fatigue. It’s a feeling I could learn to enjoy. Especially when I’m trying to forget.

He takes my hand. “Come on.”

Sliding off the stool, my legs feel wobbly. Those Zombies hit me faster than I expected.

“Come with me, Candy.” He leads me around the edge of the dance floor and over to the other side of the room. The D.J. has a karaoke machine set up along with a large screen where the words will be displayed. “What do you say to you and me showing these people how it’s done?”

Pressing my lips together, I mull over my options. I can sit on a stool all night drowning my sorrows or I can have some fun and make Joseph sorry he let me go. There’s no choice to be made. “What are you thinking?” I ask.

“I think it’s time we made our debut as a karaoke duo.” He winks then walks over to speak with the D.J. Standing, watching Nick, I sway awkwardly from side to side. I’m afraid to swing my gaze to where Joseph was seated the last time I checked in case he’s watching me. My fingers nervously trace over the face of the Rolex Joseph bought for me. I’ve always loved this watch, but now I’m not sure why I’m still wearing it.

Why am I still wearing it?

Nick retraces his steps. “Are you ready?”

“Hold on a sec,” I say, holding my finger up. I stomp over to Joseph’s table. His eyes get larger with each clack of my heels on the wooden floor and Lisa’s get narrower. I stop when I reach the other side of their table. Right now, it’s only the two of them sitting there. Tearing the Rolex from my arm, I throw it in his direction. It slams down on the table and slides in front of Joseph with a metallic ping. “Here. Lisa likes my cast offs. Maybe you should give her this too.” Spinning around without another word, I stroll back toward Nick, already feeling so much lighter from that one small unexpected act.

“What are we singing?” I ask, as if the last ninety seconds never happened.

“You’ll see soon enough.”

“Nick, I’d like to be prepared.”

“Some things in life you can’t be prepared for. Think of this as my life lesson for you. Go with the flow, Candy. Sometimes it pays off. After all, isn’t that how we met?”

He’s right. If I hadn’t gone out of my comfort zone that night, way out of my comfort zone, then I wouldn’t know him.

I wouldn’t be in love with him. Staring up at him, I hope he can see how much I’ve missed him and how I wish things were different. There’s no way I can speak those words out loud. The lump in my throat feels large like a tennis ball and if I do anything more than nod in agreement, I’ll break down in tears. This isn’t the time or place.

He winks to lighten the moment, sensing my inner turmoil and hands me the microphone. My eyes open wide, filled with panic as I hear the first notes of You’re the One That I Want from the movie Grease.

Oh crap. I’m not ready to do this. Even though I know every word of this song by heart. I’ve watched Grease at least one hundred times. Mean Girls isn’t my only go to chick flick.

He squeezes my hand, comfortingly. “Relax and have fun,” he says, grinning.

He sings the first line doing some sort of sexy dance/walk over to me and falls to his knees when he sings the last word of the line - electrifying.

My mouth drops open, I wasn’t expecting him to act the scene out, but since he opened that can of worms...bring it on, baby. I push off his chest with the ball of my high heel and tell him he better shape up. Responding perfectly, he rises smoothly to his feet and we continue to play off one another for the remainder of the song. Clearly, he’s watched this movie more than he’ll admit.

Has he seen Mean Girls before too?

When we finish, awareness returns, and I notice everyone in the room is giving us a standing ovation. Everyone, but Joseph and Lisa. A small smile lingers around Joseph’s lips. Even he’d have to admit we just kicked ass. Lisa looks like she swallowed something sour, her lips are puckered tightly together.

Nick tugs me into his arms, and whirls me around in a circle. My feet leave the floor and I shriek with panic as my knee length dress starts to climb up my thighs. Placing me on my feet, arms wrapped around my waist, he smooths his hands over my ass and grins down at me. “Just checking to make sure you’re not flashing the goods.”

“How sweet of you.”

“Yeah, that’s me. Sweet.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the song.”

“Oh no, you’re not getting away that easily.” He clasps my hand and leads me over to the side of the room, away from prying eyes and ears. “You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.” His warm palm releases mine, both of his hands land on my hips.

“For what?” What exactly did I do?”

“I know you felt awkward and unsure with them here, but you just completely obliterated your fears and showed him you’re not the same woman he knew. And stomping over to their table all badass and breathing fire was seriously hot. You got me a little worked up.”

My lips part in a toothy smile. Nick’s right. I showed Joseph that I’m not a doormat any longer. I’m the brash and bold girl I’ve always wanted to be, and I owe it all to the sexy stranger who let me kiss him. The same guy who makes me laugh whenever we’re together and loves me for who I am, not who he wants me to be. “I love you, Nick,” I whisper, not sure he can hear my voice above the chatter in the room. But judging by the expression on his face, he was able to read my lips at the very least.

“I love you, Carter. So much more than you realize.” His fingertips climb upward to caress my waist through the shiny material of my black dress, drawing slow circles. “I hope this means that whatever had you pulling away, you’ve worked through.”

“If you want to play for the NFL then I want you to. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Let me guess, Tabby told you that was what I wanted?”

I shrug my shoulders. I don’t want to create drama between siblings.

“I get it. I wish you would have talked with me about this instead of trying to end things between us.”

He pokes me in both sides and I jolt. “By the way, I wasn’t going anywhere. We belong together so you’re stuck with me forever.”

“I like this plan.”

“You say that now, but wait until you see what song I have in mind for our next karaoke duo.” He smirks, pulling me closer. His lips lower, softly grazing the side of my forehead.

“So how many times have you really watched Mean Girls?”

His head raises, eyes twinkling mischievously. “On Wednesdays, we wear pink.”

“I knew it,” I yell, triumphantly.

“You must feel like you won the lottery.”

“Why?” I raise a brow.

“Because you get all this.” He gestures along the full length of his frame, cocksure. “And a closet chick flick lover too.”

EPILOGUE

Nick

FUCK, I’m nervous. Wiping my damp palms on my khaki shorts, I restlessly pace along the edge of the pond in my grandparent’s backyard. My phone vibrates an alert. Slipping it from my pocket, I notice Reagan has texted me.

The package has been delivered. Good luck!

Smiling, I tuck my phone back into my pocket. I follow the path through the well landscaped backyard until I meet Carter as she rounds the rear corner of the house. “Hi,” I grin like the smitten fool I am. We’ve been a couple for fourteen months and it only gets better with each day that passes.

“Hi,” she narrows her eyes as she looks me over. “Nice shirt,” she mentions, nodding at my new black short sleeve button down. I wanted to look nice for her. She’s used to seeing me in my t-shirts and basketball shorts when I’m not at work.

“Why all the secret squirrel stuff to get me here?”

“I wanted to do something special for the woman I love.” Craning my neck from side to side, I pretend to look around. “Now if she’d only show up.”

Carter slaps me on the chest with the back of her hand. “Har har, you’re so funny.” She rolls her eyes and grins.

“You say that, but you’re the one I made smile with my comedic genius.”

“Genius, huh?”

“I’ll tell you what, let me have the rest of the night to prove to you that I’m a bonafide genius.”

“Okay. What do I get if you don’t prove it?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Hmm, I want a weekend in New York City with you. We had so much fun exploring the city streets when we were there. I’ve been dying to go back.”

“You’re on.” Grasping her hand, I set off along the gentle curves of the path. The walkway winds to and fro like we’re in a life-sized version of the board game Candyland. Eyes sweeping in her direction, I notice she’s wearing a new dress. “You look beautiful.” I give her hand a slight squeeze.

“Thank you. Reagan made me buy it.” Her hand smooths over the light blue material billowing out around her knees.

“I’ll have to thank her the next time I see her.” My appreciative eyes linger on her exposed legs.

“So, what are we doing here?”

“You just can’t wait to know, can you?” I chide.

“You know how I feel about surprises,” she groans.

“Yes, I do, but this is a good one. All of my surprises have been good, right?”

She sighs. “Yeah, so far.”

“Okay then. I’ve earned the benefit of the doubt and you should realize I’d never do anything to hurt you or embarrass you.”

She raises an eyebrow and I feel her silent ‘really’ without her needing to verbalize it.

“Okay, you’re right. I would embarrass you. But it would all be in the name of fun and I’d sure as hell never hurt you.”

“I know.” Smiling up at me, I can see how much she loves me. It’s written all over every inch of her expressive little face.

We reach the end of the path at the pond’s edge. “Okay my sweet little Candy, climb aboard,” I say wiggling my brows, like a lecher. She laughs at my expression and keeps hold of my hand as she climbs into the row boat. Once she’s balanced, I let her go. She tucks her dress beneath her, sinking onto the wooden bench.

I shove off from the shore and eagerly jump over the side, reaching for the oars as I sit on the wooden bench. Excitement rushes through my veins. My hands close around the smooth, worn wood and we glide along the water as I stroke us smoothly across. I can’t wait until she sees the surprise I have for her.

She peers over me, curious about what’s in store. Her tongue peeks out to lick her lower lip and my rowing rhythm falters. Readjusting on the seat, I regain my focus and we’re landing on the shore a minute later. I bound over the edge, landing on the sandy, wetland and tug the boat further inland.

She rises, my hands land on her hips and hers on my shoulders as I lift her over the side. “How’s that for service?” I ask.

“Thank you, kind sir.”

Taking her hand, I steer her in the correct direction. We stroll further inland and pass through a thin copse of trees and bushes with large, pink, fragrant blooms. Clearing the other side, the open, grassy area we had a picnic on the first time I brought her here is directly in front of us. I’ve set up a small table and two chairs, complete with a white tablecloth, lit candles and fresh flowers. Bringing everything across the pond took two trips, but the joy reflected on her face makes all the extra effort worthwhile.

“Wow, Nick this is amazing. When did you find the time to do all this?” Her hand gestures in front of us. “I thought you had to be at the gym after work.”

“I did, but I came straight over as soon as it ended.” She turns to wrap her arms around my waist. “I love you.” Her arms tighten their hold.

Kissing the top of her head, I catch her hands with mine. “Come on, there’s dinner too.”

Once she’s seated, I dig through my supplies, removing a Gino’s bacon pizza from the insulated bag. I plate two slices each and set them on the table. She squeals when she notices what’s for dinner.

I chuckle. “I think you’re more excited about what’s for dinner than all the ambiance.”

“I think you’re right,” she jests. “You know where my priorities lie. I’m a simple girl.”

We engage in small talk about our days. I’ve gone into the family business with my father. When my final football season ended, and I wouldn’t engage in any discussions about turning pro, it finally sunk in that I wasn’t going to play anymore. Our relationship is much better now, without all the tension coming between us and he’s even become supportive of my MMA training.

My parents and Carter have a mutual love for each other. I think my mom is happy that I’ve finally settled down with someone and she doesn’t need to worry about me anymore.

Things haven’t been the same with Tabby since I lit into her about interfering in my relationship. She knows what she did wrong. If she wants things to return to business as normal, she needs to apologize to Carter. Nothing less will suffice and Tabby’s too stubborn to ever do that. I think Carter prefers it that way. She doesn’t want anything to do with my sister and I don’t blame her.

“How did you do on that paper you were worried about?” I question. Carter’s been going to dental school since last January and she’s continuing her courses, even though it’s August right now, to make up for lost time.

She daintily wipes the corner of her mouth with the napkin. “I got an A.”

“Typical,” I state, shaking my head.

“What is?”

“All that worry for nothing. You should’ve listened to me. I told you it was great.”

“Yeah, but you can’t be impartial. You’re the most biased person I know when it comes to me.”

“That’s only because I know what you’re capable of.”

“Okay, but you’re still biased,” she reiterates, brushing her hands clean.

“That might be the case, but I’m still right and that’s all that matters.” I wink.

Flicking her wrist, she points at me. “You know that right there might be your worst trait.”

“Being right?”

“More like your incessant need to prove you’re right.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad. I mean, let’s discuss this for a minute.” I place my hand flat on my chest. “I have been right about quite a few things.”

“Such as?” Leaning her elbows on the table, she listens carefully.

“I said you tasted like candy the first time we kissed, and you do.” I raise my thumb from my close fist. “Two,” my index finger shoots out, “I promised you’d have a great time with me in New York and you did.” She stares thoughtfully at me wondering where this is going, but she knows me by now. I might not always take the most direct route to make my point, but I always do get there. “Three,” my middle finger straightens as I rise from my chair, “I said I’d love you forever and I will.” Both of my hands raise to the buttons on my shirt and undo them one at a time. “It’s too fucking hot. I wanted to look nice for you, but you know I’m just a t-shirt wearing fool at heart.” I turn my back to her.

“I do know you’re a fool at heart,” she jokes, giggling.

Tearing my shirt from my arms, I drop it on my chair and spin around. Her giggles dry up when she notices what my t-shirt says - Keep Calm and Say I Do. Carter’s mouth falls open as I drop down to one knee beside her. “What were you saying about me being a fool at heart?” I jest. “Don’t you mean a romantic?”

She nods, her eyes wide with various emotions. I only hope panic isn’t one of them.

She has to say yes.

“I’ve been waiting for this day since the first time I set eyes on you. Even when we were in New York I teased you about what your name would be when we got married. I’ve never doubted my feelings for you and I’ll never give you a reason to doubt me or my love.” I take her hand in one of mine, and pull a diamond ring out of my back pocket with the other. Pinched between my index finger and thumb, I hold the platinum circle up between us. The fading sunlight bounces off the clear surface, reflecting tiny colorful beams of light. “I know you were excited about the idea of being Carter Carter, but since that’s not possible, how do you feel about becoming Carter O’Shea? Will you marry me?” Holding my breath, I wait for her answer.

“Yes,” she cries. “I’ll marry you and become Carter O’Shea. How about tomorrow?” she asks. Tears shimmer in her eyes as I slip the ring on her thin finger. It’s a perfect fit.

She studies her hand, a broad smile lifting the apples of her flushed cheeks. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers.

“I chose it all by my lonesome.”

“I can’t stop looking at it. I’m not going to be able to get any work done now. I’ll be distracted.”

“Funny you mentioned that. I have something else for you. If I can get up,” I joke, groaning loudly as I rise to my feet. Moving to the other side of the table, I reach into one of the bags and grab her gift. Walking back around the table, I shake out the t-shirt I had made just for this occasion.

#Nickstracted.

She covers her mouth with her hand, and titters.

“It’s awesome, right? I’m a genius.” I grin, proudly.

“You’re something else.” She smiles wrapping her arms around my neck. Desire flickers in her blue eyes as she studies my lips. “How about you Nickstract your fiancé, right n…”

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jacob Chance grew up in New England and still lives there today. He’s a martial artist, a football fan, a practical joker and junk food lover.

QUAKE | QUIVER | DELVE | TIED | DELUDE | PENALTY | PUNCHED | QUAKE DUET | CANVAS

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AFTERWORD

Enjoy being #Nickstracted?

For more Nick, read about him as a secondary character in both Jacob Chance’s sports romance novels; Penalty and Punched.

PUNCHED Copyright © 2017 Jacob Chance

Available on Amazon and Free in Kindle Unlimited

CHAPTER ONE

Noah

“One-two-three-four,” Jimmy my trainer calls out. I respond immediately with a jab-cross-hook-uppercut combination. The sound of my punches on the leather echoes off the walls in the back corner of the gym, as we work my standup on the focus mitts. He quickly fires each of the mitts back at me as if throwing punches of his own. I bob my head up and down and side to side, then slide back beyond his reach in a practiced rhythm.

We’ve been at it for six minutes and still have four to go as he picks up the pace, calling out random number combinations. “One-two, one-two, two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, two-three, three-four, three-four, three-four,” he shouts over the sound of the other fighters training in the gym. “C’mon move faster, hit harder, let’s go.”

My response is automatic, jab-cross, jab-cross, cross-hook, jab-cross-hook, jab-cross-hook, cross -hook, hook-uppercut, hook-uppercut, hook-uppercut.

After so many years and so much training it’s become instinct. I even find myself silently repeating the corresponding punches in everyday conversations anytime someone speaks these numbers.

Every muscle in my body is taut and I’m covered in sweat from head to toe as if I’ve been swimming. Picking up the pace, I throw my punches harder, sliding back and forth, in and out of range quicker. I lose myself in the flow as the adrenaline pumps through my veins. My heart beats faster. I’m like a tiger on the hunt, as I think to myself I am iron. I cannot be broken. I will not be defeated.

By the time the buzzer sounds at ten minutes my lungs are burning. My chest heaves as each breath enters and exits. My heart is beating so fast it feels like it may explode through my chest, but I won’t stop. I can’t.

Swallowing back a couple small sips of water, I try to slow my breathing.

One minute passes and Jimmy’s barking again. “C’mon No-No, this is where we separate the men from the boys. This is where champions are made.” He’s right.

I spit out my third sip of water, toss the bottle on the floor and pick up the twenty-five-pound medicine ball. I spend the next ten minutes switching between up-downs and medicine ball slams at a blistering pace. By the time I make it to my last station on the elliptical machine I’m nearly staggering with exhaustion. Again, I push the pain and weakness away, reminding myself this is where champions are made.

It’s hard to believe I’m only four weeks away from a title fight. I’ve been working toward this opportunity for a long time.

Growing up in Boston wasn’t easy, especially in Southie. What used to be an Irish enclave where crime had a foothold, but residents still looked out for each other has become a bleak and hopeless place. A place where people barely acknowledge their own and heroin now has a stranglehold with no end in sight.

My mother left when I was too young to remember and she never looked back. My father wasn’t exactly the nurturing type, but did the best he knew how. Unfortunately, his best usually consisted of saving his blackout drinking rallies for the weekend. This left mostly misery and fits of anger for the rest of the week and with me being the only child, I was often the target of his rage. He was the first person to ever call me No-No, telling me it was because I had No chance and No future. He would then start in with a sermon on how I should, “never start a fight but always finish it.” This was usually followed by a story or two of how he broke some guy’s nose who challenged him, or knocked a guy out defending some damsel who’d been disrespected.

Ever the hero, eventually he’d catch me rolling my eyes or not paying close enough attention and things would escalate fast. I learned young how to take a punch the hard way and before long, I learned how to deliver one as well.

I watched my father drink himself to death, penniless and miserable before I turned eighteen and decided that would never be me. I let the nickname stick as well, to remind me of what I’d never become. Without any discernible skills that could result in earning a decent living I turned to the only thing I’d known all my life, fighting. Since then, Mixed Martial Arts has become my passion, my obsession, my salvation and someday it will be my redemption. I will not let anything stand in my way.

I step off the elliptical machine and dry my face off before hitting the showers when Jimmy, my trainer and also the owner of the gym, makes an announcement. “Guys I’ve got some great news…” His words fade away as I see her. Oh shit.

CHAPTER TWO

Reagan

“Guys, I’ve got some great news. I’ve been looking for someone to bring in here to take over the business end of things for me and I’ve found the perfect person,” my father says glancing around the gym. He’s not yelling but immediately has the full attention of the rough looking men now standing around pouring sweat all over the black mats. He’s well respected by them all, as he should be. He’s known for making champions and fighters come from all over the country to work with him.

“From day one all I’ve wanted to do is build great fighters and I’ve never been able to devote as much time as I wanted to doing that. But now,” he places his arm around my shoulders and glances down at me, his light blue eyes sparkling with pride, “my youngest daughter Reagan is going to step in as the general manager. She just graduated from college with a degree in business and I’m sure she’ll have this place running tip-top in no time.”

Smiling up at my dad, I hear the guys clapping. My eyes bounce around the motley crew of half-naked sweaty male bodies before locking on one in particular – Noah Nolan.

Crap. I knew he still trained here and I’d have to see him at some point. I was just hoping it would be later – a lot later.

He was one of my dad’s young up and coming fighters when we dated during my senior year of high school. We were a couple for six months and I thought the sun rose and set on him. I was convinced we were the real deal, sickeningly writing Mrs. Nolan over and over in my notebook at school. Just thinking about it now is enough to make me roll my eyes.

He broke my heart and everyone around me saw it coming; everyone except me. I gave him my virginity on prom night and he gave our relationship the axe the next morning when he dropped me off at my house. He callously mentioned I was a distraction he couldn’t afford. He needed to focus all his energy on his training. Fighting was his future; not me – blah, blah, blah.

I can still remember our last words as if it all happened yesterday. He flashed a quick smile and a wink when he opened my door. “I’m sorry. Thanks for being so understanding.”

I didn’t say a single word. My tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth and my heart was in my throat. He knocked the wind right out of me. He might as well have punched me.

Focusing on taking my next breath impeded my ability to think of a witty comeback when he kissed me one last time. He got back in his car and was gone in the blink of an eye.

To this day, I wish I’d handled that situation better. I wish I’d acted as though it didn’t bother me, but I’m not that good of an actress.

He broke my heart and I’ve never been the same since. He’s the reason I’ve avoided this place like the plague.

Today is the first time I’ve been back here since. I can’t believe the asshole is standing in the same room as me right now, his devilish brown eyes locked on mine. I swear I can see him fighting against that ever-present smirk about to appear on his lips. My natural instinct is for my eyes to flee, but I force myself to keep my gaze connected to his. This is only the first battle and I need to start off strong. He can’t know that as cool and unaffected as I appear on the outside, I’m a giant mess of nerves on the inside. My knees are practically knocking and my stomach is churning like I’m sailing the high seas in the middle of a brutal Nor’easter.

“I want everyone to go out of their way to make Reagan feel welcome,” my dad continues. “I’m expecting big things from her. She has some great ideas and I can’t wait to see what direction she takes this place in.” He slides his arm from around me. “Reagan say a few words,” he directs, putting me on the spot.

Shoot. I don’t have anything prepared. Guess I’m going to have to wing it.

“Thanks for the warm welcome. Most of the faces I see are new to me, but I used to be a fixture here when I was a kid. I’m glad to be back and my dad’s right; I do have big plans for this place. I look forward to getting to know you all.”

Some of the guys clap again and there are a few wolf whistles mixed in.

“Hey, none of that,” my dad says with a scowl and laughter fills the room.

I poke him in the side. “Dad, I’m twenty-two years old. I can handle myself.”

He smiles. “I know you can. I’m the one who taught you everything you know.” He winks.

I cringe when I think of the hours we spent on the sweat covered mats working on grappling techniques and what if scenarios. Dad desperately wanted a son to pass down his knowledge to and he ended up with three daughters. My sisters took up dancing and that left me to be the tomboy of the bunch.

“I can handle anything they throw at me, Dad.”

But what about Noah? Can I handle whatever he throws at me?

To Read All of PUNCHED, click HERE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to all the readers, bloggers and authors who’ve supported me. Whether you’ve purchased one of my books, shared my teasers or even just liked one of my posts, I’m grateful.

Diane Hamilton, my amazing PA, I can’t thank you enough for all that you do for me. You keep me organized which is not an easy thing to do and you make me laugh. I couldn’t do this without you, D.

Sybil from Popkitty Design, you did such an amazing job with the DRIVE cover. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it.

Hawkeye’s Proofreading, thank you for reading DRIVE more times than anyone should have to. I appreciate all the time you dedicated to it.

Marley, Laura and Jodi, thank you for the speedy read throughs and input. I really appreciate it.

DreamTeam, thank you for all the support, laughs and entertainment. I wouldn’t want to do this without you guys.

Spoiled by Chance Members, you guys are the most supportive group of readers that I’ve ever seen. I can’t thank you enough for being such a great inspiration for me. Your interest in my writing fuels me and keeps me going. I appreciate you all.

While Boston University no longer has a football program, for the purpose of this book, they do.

Table of Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Table of Contents

Prologue

1. Chapter One

2. Chapter Two

3. Chapter Three

4. Chapter Four

5. Chapter Five

6. Chapter Six

7. Chapter Seven

8. Chapter Eight

9. Chapter Nine

10. Chapter Ten

11. Chapter Eleven

12. Chapter Twelve

13. Chapter Thirteen

14. Chapter Fourteen

15. Chapter Fifteen

16. Chapter Sixteen

17. Chapter Seventeen

18. Chapter Eighteen

19. Chapter Nineteen

20. Chapter Twenty

21. Chapter Twenty-One

22. Chapter Twenty-Two

23. Chapter Twenty-Three

24. Chapter Twenty-Four

25. Chapter Twenty-Five

26. Chapter Twenty-Six

27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Epilogue

About the Author

Afterword

PUNCHED

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Acknowledgments