Second Down (Moving the Chains Book 2) (36 page)

“No,” she whispers. She brings her face up to mine. Her cheeks are wet with tears, but she’s wearing a wide smile. Cupping my cheeks with her little hands, she rests her forehead against mine. “Thank you. I just...thank you.”

I have no idea what the hell she’s thanking me for. I’m going to worship her for the rest of my days, though. Starting right now.

Whispers of love and devotion mingle between us with our shared tears and tender kisses. Every gentle caress of skin cements us further together. This is so much more than an addiction. I’m never letting go.

Chapter 32

Love Me Like You Do
 

Eva

              Laughter rings through the treetops as fireflies light up the branches. The glow of scattered campfires casts dancing shadows in the surrounding woods and on the faces of my friends. The air is humid even with the slight breeze and the mosquitos are biting in full force. Crickets serenade in the distance. It’s a perfect night for camping.

              A perfect night for saying goodbye.

              We’ve all been here for the past three days. Swimming in the lake, hiking the trails, bullshitting around the fire at night. Drinking way too much beer. Except for Rob. He hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since the night of States.

              “I still can’t believe you two tied for valedictorian,” Jess chirps. For the millionth freaking time. “A perfect ending to a perfect year.”

              Yeah. Perfect is exactly how I
wouldn’t
describe it.

              Mike laughs and pokes at the logs with a large stick. “I still say you should’ve given it up. If Rob hadn’t tutored you in calc, you’d have failed.”

              “Tried,” I answer. “He wouldn’t let me.”

              Out of the corner of my eye, I watch the guy sitting next to me. Rob smirks behind his water bottle, but says nothing.

              “I wish more people would have agreed to come along,” Rachel whines. She’s already three sheets to the wind. “It’s like our last bonfire, ever.”

              Rob and I exchange a quick glance. Up until the last minute, Kerri was supposed to be here. Rach never said why she cancelled, but both of us breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t show.

              “Ooh! I know,” Rachel says,clapping her hands excitedly. “Let’s play a bonfire game. Never have I ever!”

              A collective moan goes up from the group. It’s already past eleven, and everyone is worn out from the long days in the heat and humidity. Swimming in the lake only keeps a body cool for so long in ninety degree temps. The steamy nights have been long and restless without the aid of AC or even a fan. Tomorrow, we pack up camp and head home.

              “I’ll start.” Everyone’s eyes snap to Jeremy in surprise. “Never have I ever cheated on a test. Ever.”

              Half the group drinks. I’m not surprised, but still disappointed.

              Alyssa takes a deep breath, thinking about her statement. “Ok. Never have I ever cheated on my significant other.”

              Everyone looks around, trying to judge whether anyone else will call them out if they lie. In the end, Jess and Dara take a swig of beer. Ashton scoffs, causing his new girlfriend to glower at his obvious reaction to his ex. Christian, on the other hand, gets up and storms off. As Dara races after him, their argument echoes around us.

              “This is gonna be a short game,” Rob mutters so only I can hear. The tension in his body might not be obvious to anyone else, but I know we’ll be doing a lot of lying if the questions both head in the direction we expect.

              Jess purses her lips as she thinks. “Never have I ever...wanted to get married.”

              Alyssa and Jeremy drink immediately. Some of the group seems to ponder the question before putting their bottles to their lips. Beside me, Rob takes a big gulp of water without hesitation. Guess that means I should, too.

              “Man, I can’t think of anything I haven’t done,” Alex moans.

              Chase giggles into his red solo cup. “Anal.”

              “Nope, done that, too.” Alex responds, not missing a beat.

              Mike starts choking on his beer while Chelsie slaps his back a little too hard.

              “Ok,” Alex settles on. “Never have I ever done anal with a member of the same sex.”

              Well, that’s graphically specific. As expected, Chase is the only one to drink. At least he owns it and no one gives him shit about it. Baby steps.

              “Never have I ever been in love,” Chase laments.

              Alex puts his arm around Chase in solidarity. Since he and Rach broke up, they’ve been spending a lot of time together. Alex is the last person I would have expected to be friendly with Chase, but I guess I can see how they have similar personalities. They’re both comfortable with their sexuality and have no brain to mouth filter. Arguing and trying to outdo the other with sex stories is their favorite pastime.

              Chelsie pops the tab on a fresh can of beer before speaking. “Never have I ever been tied up.”

              Weirdly enough, she seems rather disappointed at this. Even weirder, quite a few people drink.

              Mike’s eyes pop out of his head as he coughs. “Never did I know you were into that.”

Everyone laughs while he thinks about a real statement.

              “Alright,” he draws out. “Never have I ever had a rimjob.”

              I have no idea what that is, so I’m not sure if I should drink or not. About half the group does, so I lift my bottle to my lips only for Rob to put his hand on my arm and shake his head.

              He recognizes the silent question in my expression because he mouths, “I’ll tell you later.”

              “Never have I ever spit in any of your food,” Gina laughs.

              I’m so tempted to drink just to freak everyone out.

              “Never have I ever made the money shot,” CJ says sadly.

              I have no idea what that means, either. Still, I smile as Gina pats his arm and throws him a seductive wink. Their relationship had all the makings of a fling, but they’re still together. They’re both staying home and going to community college in the fall. Might be they’re in it for the long haul. She talked him into coming camping with us, even though he doesn’t know everyone. He’s been nothing but pleasant the entire time. Even to Rob.

              “Never have I ever given a blow job,” Trevor announces proudly, raising his bottle in toast.

              All the guys except Chase raise theirs as well and laugh as all the girls drink. I finish off my beer in three long swallows. There’s no way I can look at Rob. Just another lie on the ever growing list. Taking my time to dispose of my empty bottle and retrieve a fresh one from the cooler allows me to skip a few rounds.

              By the time I sit down next to Rob, it’s his turn. “Never have I ever fumbled a ball,” he says smugly, laughing as every single player drinks.

              I’m up. My mind goes predictably blank. “Shit, I don’t know. This game is stupid,” I mumble. I’m just buzzed enough not to care. Ignoring the shouts and laughter is easy enough while I think. “Um, ok, ok. Never have I ever,” I smile slyly at Alex as the idea enters my brain. “Put a laxative in my friend’s drink.”

              That was the most fun I’ve ever had on New Year’s Eve. Knowing what was going on, while the other partygoers and Alex were clueless? Priceless. I think Rob was trying to get revenge for mine and Alex’s inadvertent spooning session on Thanksgiving.

              Giving me the stinkeye, Rob takes a guilty swallow of water as Alex jumps up, nearly falling into the fire and pointing at him. “Son of a bitch! I knew it was you!”

              Several rounds and beers full of lies later, and everyone is drunk enough to start trailing away to their tents. Except Rob. He’s completely sober. Luckily for him, and I guess me, most everyone thinks it’s because he’s gearing up for training camp. Surprisingly, the incident with Keri is still largely unknown to the population at large.

Rob, Alex, and Mike are having an animated conversation about football that I’m not even paying attention to. My head is spinning and my belly is full and gurgling from all the carbonation.

“Well, I’m heading to bed,” I stand up and sway a bit on my feet, prompting Rob to grab my hand.

              He raises an eyebrow at me. “You ok?”

              “Yeah, I’m fine.” I squeeze his hand in parting, but he brings it to his lips before I can pull away.

              He looks up at me with an easy smile. “I’ll be there in a few.”

              Alex and Mike bid me goodnight as I turn and pick my way carefully to the tent. If only the parents who agreed to this trip could hear the soft moans and rhythmic slapping that float through the sultry night air. If only nylon were soundproof.

              Once inside, I quickly zip the entrance closed, creating a paltry refuge from the outside world. The ground seems to tilt as I strip off my shorts and dirty t-shirt. It’s so damn hot that even Rob has been sleeping in nothing but his underwear. Blankets have been out of the question overnight. Sweat trickles down my back, adding to my nauseated feeling. Even panties and a thin tank top aren’t enough to combat the sweltering temperature in here. It’s a real shame sleeping naked isn’t an option.

              Way back in middle school, they taught us that alcohol is a depressant. My thoughts are certainly morose. I wish I could blame it on the sheer quantity of beer I’ve consumed. Closing my eyes to sleep is out of the question since the small, stifling space spins every time I shut my eyelids. Instead, I stare up at the synthetic ceiling and contemplate all the lying of the past hour or so. Maybe if I hadn’t lied so often, I wouldn’t be so drunk right now. Shit. I’m drunk.

              Being out of control is a dangerous thing. Ambush becomes a very real possibility when the main concern is not throwing up and awareness is impaired. As if it wasn’t pounding already, my heart picks up speed. Galloping away at a dangerous pace that leaves me breathless. My eyes flit quickly around the tent. Suddenly every shadow and slight movement becomes a potential enemy, waiting to attack. My skin is hypersensitive and coated in a sheen of sweat. Every brush of my thin tank against my nipples is painful. The scars seem to throb as much as the fresh injuries did. Every blade of grass and grain of sand that’s made its way into the sheets feels like a scorching poker impaling my flesh. The old story of the princess and the pea comes to mind. My harsh laughter fills the air at the thought. I’m no fucking princess.

              Princesses don’t get shitfaced while playing a drinking game. Princesses don’t lie about all the sexual things they’ve done with their princes. That they actually haven’t.

              I thought things were getting better. Improving. Rob suddenly seemed...interested. It was like watching a transformation. One that only I could see. Though his hands remained as gentle as ever, his kisses had more heat. He fought harder to make time for us to be together. Before, the question of taking a drive was never mentioned after a night out. Since April, not a single date has gone by that we didn’t park for hours after. It’s like he can’t get enough.

              It took until my birthday to realize what’s really been going on. Mama had a party for me at home on Friday, but Saturday night Rob wanted me to himself. Patty and Gary were away for the weekend, so we had the run of the house. He made me dinner, we danced in the kitchen, and there were candles lit everywhere. A new charm was added to my bracelet. A helmet with a little diamond where the light should be. For the State mascot. The Miners. To convince me he’s happy we’ll be together, he said.

              When he led me up to his room, butterflies took up residence in my chest. I’d read that description of anticipation so many times, but never believed it was a real thing until that night. He was trembling with want, I was sure of it. For me. He wanted me. I was prepared to do anything he asked. Except remove my bra. As excited as I was, he might’ve been able to talk me out of it, though.

              He didn’t.

              Since we’d always been together in The Lady, it made sense for me to be on top of him. He’s so big and the interior of a classic Mustang isn’t exactly spacious. To say I was giddy with the bed and all the space would be an understatement. The usual nervousness about his size and strength was still present, but my curiosity dimmed it. I couldn’t wait to see what he would do, given free reign.

              He did nothing different. Not one thing.

              He pulled me down to the bed with him, and rolled himself under me as things heated up. That was when it hit me. His gentle touches, kisses, and words weren’t sweet and loving. They were meant to be encouragement. He was letting me use him. Sure, his body was finally responding. Because he’s an eighteen year old testosterone driven athletic male that needs sexual gratification the way women and older, less in shape, men need air. Not because he finds me desirable. Not because he wants me. Absofuckinglutely not because he can’t control himself where I’m concerned.

              I’d done it again.

              I’d conned myself into believing in an untrue reality. Another fantasy born out of making peace with both of us being at State in the fall. While it’s true that the cons of NYU outweighed the pros, it’s also true that the pros of State were weighted by Rob. His mother’s worries over his ability to deal with the celebrity that is surely coming his way aren’t unfounded. He’s sensitive, trusting, and at times, utterly ignorant of the culture that goes along with being an immensely talented athlete.