Sidelined (19 page)

Macey sighs heavily. “I can handle Mitch.”

“Sure you can, M, but it doesn’t mean you have to.”

“I can, and I will.” She roughly dries herself off and tears her bag open. She mutters to herself as she rifles through it before finally hissing out a, “Bitch,” and pulling out a dark-red underwear set.

My eyes follow her every move as she pulls the lacy shorts up her legs to hug her hips, clasps the bra under her tits, turns it, and pulls the cups over them and the straps up her arms.

I shift uncomfortably. Fuck. When your erection tries to break free from your sweatpants, you know it’s a fucking serious boner.

“Stop staring at me like that!”

I lean over the bed and pull her on top of me. Her knees sit on either side of my hips so she’s straddling me and her pussy is pressing down on my cock.

“You’re in my bedroom and you’re wearing that fucking underwear set,” I murmur, cupping the back of her neck, “and you think I’m not going to look at you like I want to flip you under me?”

She pushes at my shoulders. “I’m going home to deal with my ex-boyfriend,” she manages through clenched teeth. “Get off me.”

Ignoring her, I pull her face down so her mouth covers mine. She digs her fingers into my shoulders but doesn’t try to pull away. Instead, she kisses me harder, and I graze my teeth over her bottom lip.

“Now you’re definitely not goin’,” I say against her mouth.

“Jack,” she whispers. “I have to. He can’t be sitting outside my apartment like that.”

“So call your brother,” I grin. “Get him to remove him.”

“Oh, yeah. Cal would love that.” She rolls her eyes and drops her hands down my front. “He’s waiting for the day I call him and get him to arrest Mitch for something.”

“So do it.” My grin widens. I know I’ve just joined Cal in the waiting. “He turns up at your apartment, follows you to a club without you telling him where you’ll be, and now, he’s outside your house? Isn’t that stalking?”

Macey tuts and slaps my chest. “You’re as bad as my brother!”

She climbs off me and pulls some tiny denim shorts and a black shirt from the bag. I’m forced to watch as she puts them on and covers up the sexy, red underwear.

“Don’t you have a game today?” she frowns.

“Tomorrow.”

“Shouldn’t you be practicing?”

“Not until later. We stayed late yesterday,” I explain, getting up. “We went straight to Rapture when we were done.”

“Oh.”

“You’re sayin’ that a lot today, baby.”

“My head is pounding and I’m trying to process and remember what happened last night. Excuse me if I don’t have many words.”

“No words, whole bunch of sass though.”

She shoots me a look over her shoulder as she walks down the stairs.

“Right there—there’s the sass.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” she sighs. “You’re worse than Ryann.”

“Sure I do.” I corner her against the kitchen counter. “I stop when I’m kissing you.” I brush my lips over her mouth. “And when you’re sucking my cock.” My hand curls around her neck, my thumb ghosting over her jaw. “And I definitely stop talking when I’m eating your pussy.”

“Yeah, I much prefer your mouth doing
that
.” Macey taps her finger against my lips and spins out of my hold. She pulls the empty pod from the coffee machine and puts it in the mini trash can on the inside of the cabinet door.

I watch her as she comfortably pulls another from the cabinet above her head and puts it in.

“Ooh, you have mocha pods!”

My lips tug up at her excitement, and she switches the pods. I walk to the fridge, pull out a carton of orange juice, unscrew the cap, and drink.

“Are you…” Macey turns slowly, her finger hovering over the “start” button. “Are you drinking that from the carton?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want some?” I grin, offering her the carton.

“Uh, I’ll stick to coffee. Thanks though.” She turns back. “Note to self: Don’t let Jack near the orange juice without supervision,” she says under her breath.

“Nah,” I say, shutting the fridge. “Just buy two cartons and write my name on one. Much easier.”

She gasps, and I laugh as I back out of the kitchen. I have no fucking idea why she still thinks she can get shit past me. Nice try though.

“Anything else you want me to buy on the next trip to the grocery store?” Macey asks sassily, lifting her eyebrows. “Maybe a toothbrush? Pack of razors?”

I grab her hips just before her ass touches the sofa and pull her onto me. She squeaks and steadies herself with her hand flat against my chest. Her face is inches above mine, and it’s screwed up in the cutest version of annoyance I’ve ever seen.

“Don’t worry about the razors. I have an electric shaver. But a toothbrush would be great. Thanks, baby.” I kiss her quickly.

“Ass,” she mutters, smiling, sitting back up.

“What? I need something to brush my teeth with after you’ve made me bacon.”

Macey curls into my side, her bare tits brushing me. I trace random circles and lines on her back, my heart still thundering loudly in my chest.

“Magic cock,” she mutters.

My lips curve up. “You’re good for my ego.”

“Which, obviously, needs stroking.” She rolls away at the sound of her phone ringing. She grabs it from the floor and holds it to her ear. “Hello? … Oh, okay. … Yeah. … Okay. Thanks, Lee.” As swiftly as she rolled away, she rolls toward me and onto her stomach.

“Say his name in my bed and I’m gonna go fucking crazy.”

She grins. “Gone. So I can go home now.”

“Hell you are!” I throw myself on top of her as she tries to escape from my bed.

A cry leaves her mouth, but it quickly changes to a stream of giggles when I wrap my arms around her and roll onto my back.

Macey’s back is against my front, the covers keeping a barrier between us, and she’s kicking her legs in air like a little girl. “Let me go!”

“No.” I tickle her sides. “You’re not goin’ anywhere.”

“I am! I want to go home.”

“Baby, tough shit,” I say in her ear then slide her to the side of me. She tries to move away again, but I pin her hands to the pillows and straddle her.

“Bastard,” she whispers, her amused eyes narrowing in fake annoyance.

My cock twitches against her stomach. “You know, if I move down just a little bit…”

“Oh no!” She opens her legs and presses her heels into my ass.

“That doesn’t help.” I lean against her to prove my point.

“Jack,” she half moans breathlessly, “I have to go home.”

“You can. Tomorrow.” I dot kisses down her jaw to her neck. “I’ll take you on my way to the game.”

“Jack,” she repeats again, and I suppose it’s a protest, but it’s a pathetic one, because she draws in a sharp breath when my tongue comes into contact with her pebbled, pink nipple.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I…” She takes another deep breath when I swirl my tongue over her other breast. “Nothing. Carry on.”

J
ack Carr makes my heart pitter-patter a little too hard.

And it’s terrifying.

It also might explain why there’s a huge string of guilt in my stomach, spinning and coiling into a nauseating roll. It might also explain why I’m standing outside the bar, staring at the door instead of actually going inside.

Jesus. Why am I doing this to myself? I should listen to the guys in my life and let my brother arrest Mitch. I shouldn’t be outside a bar, giving him one final chance to explain himself. My problem is that I’ve always been too curious. I’ve always had to have an answer for everything. It’s like I’m convinced that, if he talks and tells me everything I need to know, I really can move on from what he did to me.

I’ve talked myself into a rut inside my head, and now, I can’t get out.

Taking a deep breath, I push the door open and walk in. Mitch sees me instantly and waves from a table in the corner, and I turn for him. I slide into the seat opposite him.

“Do you want a drink?”

“No, thank you. I can’t stay long.” I tuck some hair behind my ear. “So. Why were you outside my apartment all day yesterday?”

“Wow. Dive right on in there, Mace.” Mitch smirks.

“Like I said,” I say stonily, “I can’t stay long.”

“I wanted to talk to you.” He rests his forearms on the small, circular table and leans toward me. “About Saturday night.”

My eyes flick to the bruise on his cheek. “What about it?”

“You know I was there?”

“I found out the next day.”

“Let me guess. Jack told you?”

When I don’t reply, he raises his eyebrows.

“You know when I came to your apartment? He told me to stay away from you or he’d make me. Didn’t do too much of a good job keeping
his
girl away from me, did he?”

“Get to the point, Mitchell.”

“You didn’t push me off you.”

“I didn’t know it was you.”

“Leah or Ryann should have recognized me.”

“Really? On a nearly pitch-black dance floor? How do you figure that one, idiot?” I snap. “Now get to the point or I’m leaving.”

“I want you back.”

His words shock me although I’m not surprised by them. Deep down, I knew they were coming. Deep down, I knew that’s how this conversation would go. He knows I need to know everything—his trump card to keep me coming back is my desire for that knowledge, so the bastard is going to drip-feed it to me through an IV line as long as I see him and speak to him.

Unfortunately, my need for total closure is far too strong to do anything about it.

“I guessed that,” I say slowly, carefully. “I’m not sure what you expect me to do about that.”

He reaches out and runs his thumb across my jaw. “Come back to me.”

I lean back in the chair, making his hand drop. “I can’t. You know that, Mitch. We’re over. We have been for almost a year.”

“Baby—”

“Macey.”

“Macey,” he corrects, looking put out. “Come on. We’ve been over this.”

“Yes, we have. Was there ever anyone else?”

“What?”

“You slept with Suzie when we were on a break. We had them every time exams came around. Was there anyone else before her?”