First and Goal (Moving the Chains #1) (43 page)

Holy shit. She’s finally mine.

Best day ever.

When we step inside, I toe off my shoes gently. She’s against my side again, one arm around me and her other hand splayed against my stomach to give me support. I have to breathe through what that does to me. Playing it cool with her is going to take every ounce of restraint I possess.

My ankle doesn’t really hurt all that much anymore. But I have to go easy if I want to be at practice on Monday. I don’t know how comfortable she is with touching me. Any little thing like this she does is just another clue for me, so I say nothing and let her do as she will. She hesitantly follows me into the family room, looking around as though she wasn’t just here this morning.

“You want me to get you some more ibuprofen?” I’ll show her exactly how she deserves to be treated, starting right now.

“Oh no, that’s okay. You’re not supposed to be walking around too much, right?”

No, not really. But I can see by the look on her face and her posture that she’s in pain. I definitely can’t have that.

“It’s not that bad. Make yourself at home, and I’ll be right back.
Mi casa es su casa.
” I leave her with a kiss on the forehead that she doesn’t flinch away from since she’s too busy grinning at my Spanish. I guess I’m gonna have to start learning Greek too.

When I return with a bottle of water and some pills for her, she’s lying on the couch on her side. Her eyes are closed and a frown mars her quiet face. I hope I didn’t put it there.

“Evie.” I nudge her, whispering. “Water, meds.”

She sits up and gives me a sleepy smile.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, popping the pills into her mouth and washing them down with a gulp of water.

Sitting down on the couch beside her, I briefly wonder if I should just send her home to bed. But I’m greedy, and this is all so new. I already know I won’t ask her to leave. I also won’t try to keep her if she wants to go. I pat my lap for her to lay back down. I still owe her for dinner, and she claims I have magical hands. They’ve always belonged to her, but now it’s…different. Now every touch is like an answered prayer.

She raises her eyebrow at me. God, it’s a struggle to remember why she’s in pain, so I won’t think about her earlier offer. Not that I would ever let her do that so soon. It’s definitely all I’ll be dreaming about until she gives me the green light though.

She concedes and lays her head down on my lap. Her body faces the television, and her hair splays across my legs. She must have let it down while I was upstairs. She yawns as I massage her stomach with one hand and reach for the remote with the other.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

I realize I have no idea what I’m doing here. Going out on a date with a girl I don’t like for Alex’s sake is one thing, but I’ve never had a girl alone in my house before. And this isn’t just any girl. It’s my Evie. Everything has to be perfect and not at all anything to make her uncomfortable.

She giggles softly, but I’m not sure why what I asked her is funny. “What are you doing?”

What am I doing? What kind of question is that? “Trying to make you feel better?”

Clearly, I’m not doing a very good job.

“I don’t have a stomachache. I have cramps. And don’t you want to watch football?”

Well, yeah, but I’m still stuck on what I’m doing wrong.

“Lower.”

Lower?

She rolls onto her back, looking up at me. Sweet Mother of Mercy, she looks like an angel. My very own angel. She grasps my hand with hers and moves me where she wants my fingers to work their special powers.

Oh. Lower. I have to remember to breathe.

Her eyes flutter closed, and she exhales a soft sigh of contentment. I can’t believe this is my life right now.

“Rob?”

“Hmm?” I can’t stop my other hand from twisting around in her hair, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

“If I fall asleep, will you wake me up in a half hour, so I can go home?”

Do I have to? I’d much rather sleep with her tonight even though I know that’s not possible. “Sure.”

After only a few minutes, her breathing evens out. She nuzzles her face against my stomach, already deep in slumber. It’s not lost on me that she must trust me immensely to leave herself so vulnerable which is a huge relief after thinking that she was scared to even be here alone with me.

The TV forgotten, I spend long minutes watching her sleep. Watching the way her chest rises and falls slowly and evenly. Listening to every inhale and exhale. Seeing her eyes move behind her lids, her fingers twitching ever so slightly. She’s dreaming. I would give anything to know about what. I can only hope it’s not a nightmare about last year. Pushing that thought away, I vow never to think of him when she’s in my arms like this. She’s mine now and mine only. He’ll never get near her again.

Abandoning my work on her abdomen, I begin mindlessly tracing my finger over her. She’s clearly not feeling any pain now. I feather light touches over her soft skin. I can’t resist the pull of her body against mine. I spend the time now to touch all the things I’ve memorized over the years. Her skillful hands, crossed over her chest, the slender fingers that can artfully master a flute, or strike piano keys. The curve of her elbows, the slope of her shoulders. The sharp angles of her cheekbones, the corner of her mouth that isn’t pressed into my stomach. Over and over in an endless loop, I caress her gently, hoping that when she wakes, my touch will have absorbed into her skin. And she’ll know that she never has to worry about my hands ever being used to hurt her or force her against her will.

With that thought firmly in place, I resist the urge to run my fingers over her gorgeous tits as she breathes. To trace a pattern from her bent knee up her thighs to the curve of her hips. I’ll wait until she asks me to touch her in those places. Instead, I turn my attention to her hair. Every strand of nearly black curl I’ve imagined touching for the past three years is now in my grasp. I brush through it as gently as I can with all the tangles.

When I brush stray hair from her forehead, she hums and a tiny smile graces her lips. Her reaction brings a smile to my own face. Even until the time a few weeks ago when she denied what happened to her, my fantasies about Evie never included this kind of touching. Every dream, waking or sleeping, was about possessing her body with my own, devouring her in only the ways that can satisfy. This is so much more than I ever could have imagined. Her trust has been so hard won that this almost seems more intimate than anything we could do together without our clothes on. I guess this is what love feels like.

I love this girl.

The next thing I’m conscious of is the feeling of her on my lips, her breath fanning across my face. Shit. I must’ve fallen asleep too. “Evie? What time is it?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just going to go. It’s a little after midnight.”

Dammit. I was supposed to wake her up not the other way around. I blink up at her. She’s braced over me but doesn’t look angry. She looks…sad?

She moves away from the couch and puts on her shoes by the door. I know she wasn’t fond of the dark garage, so I get up and gesture to the stairs leading up to the kitchen. I’ll show her out the front. “I’ll walk you out.”

When we reach the front door, she turns to face me, her arms wrapped around her. It’s probably much colder outside, and she only has on the polo shirt that she wears for work. I wordlessly pull one of my jackets out of the closet by the door and drape it around her while she offers me a strange smile.

“I don’t want you to be cold.” Feeling the need to explain myself to her seems odd. She still doesn’t accept that I actually care about her. Fuckin’ Eddie.

“Are you gonna be okay to get upstairs to your room?”

I lean closer to her, anticipating this next part. I don’t want to push her, but… “I’ll make it if you kiss me again.”

I can’t resist.

She gives me a wry smile, but leans in to press her lips against mine. Not long enough to satisfy my need for her, but not quick enough for me to believe she didn’t mean it, either.

“Better?” She hasn’t quite stepped out of my personal space. The smile she gives me is full of mischief.

“No.”

Her expression is a mix of confusion and disappointment. I pull her against me and test the waters. I definitely don’t want to send the message that I don’t want her. Tipping my face down, I brush my lips across hers gently, waiting for her to stop me, to tell me it’s too much.

She does neither of those things. I press on, wanting to show her everything that I’ve been unable to say for so long.

I open my mouth against hers. Instantly, the taste of her overwhelms my senses. It’s indescribable, craveable…addictive. She reciprocates, her breath rushing into me as my heart tries to find a new home in her chest instead of mine. Threading my fingers through her hair, I hold her against me. My other hand at the small of her back pulls her as close as possible. It’s still not close enough. I push inside her mouth, slowly and gently, telling her everything I mean to say with every stroke of my tongue against hers.

She whimpers into my mouth.

All rational thought and careful, slow control flies out the window. Crushing her against me, I devour her tongue in all the ways I’ve only fantasized about. I grip her tightly against my body as I harden for her. God, she feels
so good
. Her hands are at my chest, my shirt fisted between her fingers when she suddenly pushes away.

Oh Christ, I really fucked this up.

She’s still with me though. I wrap my arms carefully around her back, cradling her to me, and rest my forehead against hers as we both pant in an effort to catch our breath.

“I’m so sorry, Evie. I didn’t mean…”

She cuts me off with tears in her voice. “I know. I’m not her, Rob. I wish I was, but I’m not. You’re on pain meds, and you were dreaming, and I’m…” Her voice catches. “I’m not her.”

What. The. Fuck?

She presses a soft kiss to my lips. I taste the salt of her tears before she rips herself from my arms. She runs out the door and leaves me standing alone in complete and total shock.

I
f I could’ve called off work yesterday and skipped school today, I would have. But I can’t afford to lose tips or let my grades slip. I’d much rather be holed up in my room, listening to the playlist that I broke down and created last week and crying my stupid, fucking heart out at what an idiot I’ve been.

I was so sure, so utterly fooled by the alternate reality that I’d built for myself with my game plan and my safe walls. When he crushed it in less than a month, I really should’ve been more resistant. I should’ve fought harder to keep myself away from his clutches. I should have, but I didn’t. A small part of my brain already knew that I wouldn’t be able to resist from that very first day of biology.

I cloaked my heart in flimsy hatred. That was the first casualty of this battle. So easy for him to defeat with his sparkling eyes, brains, dimple, and soft voice as weapons. Large hands and strong arms instilled fear, an automatically learned response. Gentle and persistent touches felled another adversary as easily as if it were air.