ENEMIES(57)

“There’s notes in the back?”

He grinned, still grimacing at the same time. “Yeah. Funny ones. Sad ones. I wanted to beat my dad up all over again after I read one in particular.”

“Wait a minute, back up…don’t you get fined if you miss practice or something?”

“I paid it. Going up there and making things right meant more to me. Don’t tell any Kings’ fans I said that. They can get rabid.” He raised his hands, resting them on his head as he waited for my reaction.

“So this was all because my mom was nice to you?”

His hands dropped down. “You fucking on something for that concussion still? That’s what you got from all of that?”

I jumped to my feet. “That’s what you said! It was about my mom.”

“It started out about your mom. I mean, it started about more than your mom, but yeah. It began because of your mom, but also you. And it became about you—” He cut off, his head moving left to right in a brisk motion. “No. I’m not doing this right now. The whole reason I called you this afternoon is because your stepbrother wants to fly down and see my game on Monday. We’re Monday Night Football this week. He’s coming with his friend, and the guys’ parents. Sounds like it’s going to be a quick trip for them, and I was calling to see if you wanted to come with them? I can get you tickets.”

Oh.

OH!

“Jared’s coming here?”

He nodded, his eyes back to being expressionless. “And in case they didn’t say something, I wanted to give you a heads-up.”

“Are you flying them down?”

“No. The parents are. They reached out about wanting to meet up, see if I’d give him an autograph. I’m just giving them tickets. That’s all. They were going to pay someone they know for the guys’ season tickets and I told them not to do that.” His hands slid back into his pockets. “What do you think? You want to come? Support me?” A faint tug at his lips.

He was teasing.

That floored me.

And I was grinning back. “I had a full meltdown going into my college’s library. You expect me to handle a full stadium of fifty-thousand people?”

He shrugged. “That’s two days away. I was thinking I could offer my services for you to ‘digest shit.’” And that grin was back, but it was both a smirk and half sensual at the same time.

The fucker.

I laughed. “Sex, huh?”

“Now that we’re all good, right? I can offer my dick’s services. Happily.” He was smiling, and the sight did me in. He was so handsome and attractive and fucking hot all at the same time.

My blood heated.

My pulse spiked, and it was like I hadn’t been seriously considering going to a mental hospital moments earlier. My head couldn’t get caught up with what was going on. Everything was changing so fast.

I sat back down on the bed, grabbing a pillow. Burying my head in it, I let loose a half-scream and rolled so I was lying on my stomach, turned toward the wall.

I felt the bed decline behind me, and Stone was there. His hand came to my hip. He leaned over me, tugging the pillow away and rolling me so I was on my back, looking up at him. He frowned down. “What was that about? I meant that as a joke.”

“I know. It was about me, feeling like I’m totally losing it.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t have anything else to say. I didn’t expect a response. That’s just how Stone was. He had a thought or a response, he’d give it. He didn’t have one, but his eyes were darkening and they were fixed on my mouth.

I stilled.

He didn’t.

His eyes lifted to mine and his hand went to my stomach. It flattened there, slipping under my shirt. He paused, now silently asking for permission, and I groaned, biting my lip. He took it as permission and his hand moved farther up, snaking my shirt with it until he paused right below my bra.

He was waiting, gauging what I’d do next.

So was I.

This was different. It wasn’t the desperate need to escape before. Everything was different now. My bed. My room. During the day. We did this, there’d be residual effects, but, no. I was stopping myself. I either needed him or I was hating him.

This didn’t have to mean anything.

And with that decision in my mind, I was doing something I’d never done before.

I grated out, “I can’t handle a relationship.” My hands went to my shirt, pausing, too.

His grin turned cocky. “Who the fuck said anything about that?”

“Just sex.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re speaking my language.”

I still paused, my mind racing. Was this a good idea? Probably not.

I reached for his jeans, and a second later, his mouth was on mine.





Chapter Twenty-Five





He was inside me when my roommates came home that night. Thrusting in, stretching, he paused. We could hear them traipse across the floor and it was obvious they were celebrating.

“Fuck yeah, biiiiiiiiitches!”

Thud.

“Oh! You fucker!”

“Stop!” Loud laughter. A clickety clickety. Someone’s high heels.

Clickety clickety—even more high heels.