Teardrop Shot(89)

“I thought I was flying back tomorrow?”

His eyes darkened, and he rested his head against his headrest. “I was hoping to change your mind.”

“Don’t you have an away game on Wednesday?”

“We won’t fly out till that morning.”

“You have practice tomorrow?”

“I gotta put some time in tomorrow.”

I should fly out. I should stick to the original plan, but… Even now, after just holding his hand for the last thirty minutes, I was having a hard time giving it up.

This was supposed to be fun. This was supposed to be just an odd friendship. When did all these emotions get involved? And fuck, but I couldn’t bring myself to make the hard decision.

One more day. Two more. Then that was it. A week.

I nodded. “Okay. You have a game in New York on Friday?”

“Yeah. Wanna come? I’ll fly you out.”

I could tell he didn’t think I’d take him up on that offer, and as a sad smile stretched over my face, he saw it for what it was.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll change your flight for Friday morning?”

I nodded, not saying a word because his lips were on mine, and then I was wrapped up in all the sensations, all the good feelings, all the feelings I shouldn’t be feeling at all.

He groaned, pulling away to rest his forehead against mine. “Thank you for coming, even though it was a shit show tonight.”

What was I supposed to say? I shook my head, laughing lightly. “Thank YOU, you mean. You paid for the tickets. I just came and…” His hand moved to my legs, dipping between them, and I narrated as I did it: “I just spread ’em wide.”

He barked out a laugh, his mouth coming back to mine, harder, rougher, more demanding. “Come on.”

He came around the front to my side, bent down, and tossed me over his shoulder.

“Reese!”

“Hush, woman. Now’s not the time for words.” His hand was firm on my ass, squeezing a good handful. “God, I love this ass.”

He carried me inside, tossing his keys onto the table, then kept on going, all the way up the stairs and to his bedroom. The windows were open, a sheer curtain covering them, but his gate gave us some privacy. We could hear the sounds of the ocean, a few cars on the road going past, but then silence.

I was surprised at how peaceful it was. Leaving the light off, Reese lowered me to the bed.

“I thought Seattle was supposed to be loud?” I remarked as I stretched out.

He knelt over me, the bed dipping under his weight. “It is, and it is in the city. I’m far enough out that we’re good. Plus, my neighborhood’s particularly quiet.”

A world I’d never live in, but it was a nice visit. Reese bent, and his mouth came to mine. This was all just a nice visit.

Not permanent.

I had to remember that. I couldn’t get caught up.

Reese’s mouth moved down my throat as he undressed me, and I undressed him.

I realized I’d been wrong. I’d thought the ocean was freeing, but it wasn’t. It was dangerous. His shirt came off, and I ran my hands down his chest, feeling how he shivered under my touch.

Yes. So much more dangerous.





I was up, enjoying my first official coffee from Seattle (shame on me for missing it yesterday) when the text came through. Reese had been gone when I got up. He’d woken me to whisper he’d be back around three, so I zonked back out and woke late in the morning.

We’d stayed up till five, a schedule Reese said he couldn’t keep up on a regular basis, but it was a one-off for us, and it’d been worth it.

Every inch of me had been worked over, kissed, worshiped. My vagina felt like it had played a double-header, and I almost groaned when I got into his shower and had the time to appreciate what I was seeing. He had a steamer shower.

Take me now—that’s what I felt as I put the timer on, and it was twenty minutes of gloriousness.

I was tempted to take my coffee back up for another round, because damn, the coffee was amazing too.

Any girl Reese chose could get spoiled by this life. I could see why Marie and A-hole Manager were protective.

Reese: You asked if salt and freshwater could have a conversation and determine who’s better? I can see it. Saltwater would win. It’s fiercer. It has whales. Come on.

Reese: And no I wouldn’t outlaw pervy old business guys. Celebrate them for sure.

Reese: If you ever need to scare off scary dudes again, I’d say up the hyena laugh while you shred their napkins. Side note, were those the two who came up to me first last night?

Reese: Yes. Talking to your barstool would be a good tool to scare them off too. Barstools can have the best conversations.

Reese: Want food? I’ll bring Mediterranean on the way back.

I was laughing, but I flicked something annoying away from my eye too. Rational thought had returned, and there was an ache in my chest. The hole Damian had put there still remained, and I had a feeling some Reese was filtering in there too.

He was being kind. My God, he was so nice, and I was being what? Dramatic? Overreactive? I was the annoying girl people rolled their eyes at—but they didn’t get it. I was just now starting to stand. If I kept falling, sinking more and more into the Reese tsunami, he would spit me out broken in pieces. When did self-preservation kick in?