Undisputed (32 page)

I kneel in front of her.

But she shoves me away. “Don’t touch me!”

Ignoring her, I wrap my arms around her as she pushes against me. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

She continues to struggle, and after a few moments, I give up the fight, letting her go. Springing to her feet, she wipes the tears from her face and then races down the hall.

Deciding to wait until tomorrow to deal with it, I sit at the table to have dinner alone for the third night in a row.

It’s been a tense week since the dinner fiasco. Sidney’s refused to get out of bed for the last two days, and nothing I said would convince her otherwise.

She isn’t sleeping at night, instead tossing and turning, which makes it impossible for me to get any sleep, either. The little bit of sleep I am getting is filled with dreams of Connor.

In my dreams, he would always ask me why I wasn’t there for him when he died. Why I didn’t try harder to save him. I would wake in a cold sweat only to find Sidney lying awake beside me.

Several times, I tried to hold her, not only to comfort her, but because I needed to feel her in my arms. But, every time, she would roll away and pretend to be asleep. After several nights in a row of her rejection, I quit trying.

It’s after noon, so I decide that it’s time for Sidney to get out of bed.

Strolling into the bedroom, I see that she was already awake. “Morning, sleeping beauty,” I say, handing her a steaming mug of coffee. “Or should I say afternoon.”

She took a sip and rewards me with the first smile I’ve seen in what feels like ages. Encouraged, I crawl into bed and cuddle up next to her. She leans against me and gives me a kiss on my cheek.

After weeks of barely having been able to touch her, my body immediately responds to her show of affection. I run my hand up her bare thigh, which causes my cock to spring to life. She sets her cup on the nightstand and then wraps both arms around my shoulders, tilting her head to expose her bare neck.

Following her lead, I trail kisses on her soft skin, my need to be inside her suddenly unbearable. Growling, I nip her neck with my teeth, which elicits a moan that causes my balls to tighten. When she palms my cock through my shorts, I can’t fight it anymore.

Rolling my hips against her hand, I’m desperate for the friction.

Suddenly, she releases my dick, and I groan in objection. My disappointment vanishes when she grins wickedly at me and then pushes me on to my back.

She works my gym shorts down my hips, my cock springing free, and the sight of her licking her lips before leaning down to take me in her mouth making it jump.

Starting at the base, she runs her tongue up my shaft and then takes me all the way into her mouth.

“Fuuuuuuck,” I groan as she begins pumping my cock with one hand while licking and sucking me deep.

In only a matter of minutes I feel my orgasm tingling in my balls. I pull on Sid’s shoulder, intent on getting inside her before I come, but she gives a slight shake of her head and continues to work me.

“Shiiiit,” I hiss as the orgasm blasts through me.

She continues to suck me until I’m lying spineless on the bed, panting. Licking her lips, she crawls up the bed and then lays her cheek on my bare chest. Wrapping my arms around her, I breathe in her scent.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers—so quietly that it’s almost imperceptible. She traces circles across my abs.

“Don’t be sorry, Sid.”

“I know I’ve been pretty unbearable.” She laughs, but it’s devoid of any humor. “I’m trying though.”

We lie in a comfortable silence for a while, and eventually, she slides from the bed.

“Where ya going?” I ask.

Facing me, she murmurs, “Shower. I’ll be out soon.” She blows me a kiss and turns back toward the bathroom.

I want her to come back to bed, but I don’t get the chance to tell her. Blowing a breath out, I drag myself out of bed. Then I throw a pair of sweats on before trudging out of the room.

It’s half an hour later when, smiling sheepishly, she appears in the living room, her wet hair sticking up everywhere.

Padding into the kitchen, she asks “Do we still have coffee?”

I nod and grab a mug to pour her a fresh cup.

Propping her hip on the counter, she questions, “So, when are you going back to the gym?”

“Oh, I hit the fitness center earlier this morning, so my workout’s done for the day,” I tell her while scrolling through e-mails on my phone.

“No, I meant to start training again.” she clarifies, peeling a banana.

Glad to see her finally eating something without being forced to, I smile at her. Her tongue darts out, moistening her lower lip. I groan in approval, and she tosses me a mischievous grin, flicking her tongue out again. This time, she circles the tip of the banana before sealing her lips around it and sucking deep. Her eyes flutter shut, and she lets out a moan.

Despite having just been on the receiving end of that sexy mouth, my cock thickens and I have to adjust myself.

She opens her eyes and grins wide at me, the banana causing her cheeks to puff out like a chipmunk.

Laughing at how ridiculous she looks, I say absentmindedly, “I’m not.”

Confusion lines her face, and she almost chokes while trying to swallow her mouthful. “What do you mean you’re not?”

Shrugging, I repeat, “I’m not. I’m done training. I’m done fighting.”

The banana falls to the floor, and she sputters, “But…but why?” Her eyes are wide, and she looks like she’s about to fall into a panic attack.

I’ve seen enough of those the last few weeks to sense it creeping up on her. “What’s the matter?” I ask, concerned.

“I just… I don’t understand. Why aren’t you going to fight anymore?”

I lift my shoulders again. “I have nothing left to prove.”

Sidney blinks at me and leans her hip against the counter weakly, lifting one hand. “Well, what are you going to do if you don’t fight?” she squeaks.

“I dunno. I’ll figure it out I guess.”

“Oh, God,” she moans. Panic fills her eyes once more.

“Hey,” I say, standing to walk over to her. “Why are you so upset? I thought you’d be glad to know I don’t have to leave all the time to go to the gym or train out of town.”

“No!” she exclaims. “God, Breccan! You just don’t get it, do you?”

The disappointment I was feeling about her reaction morphs into anger, and I raise my voice to match hers. “No. Sidney, I don’t! I don’t fucking get it! Why don’t you help me understand?” My chest heaves, and I stalk to the fridge and yank the door open. I pull out a beer and take a long swig before turning back to her, “I’m waiting. Please, Sidney. Enlighten me on what the fuck it is I’ve been doing so fucking wrong for the last month!”

“You’re smothering me!” she shouts. “Fuck, Breccan. You’ve done everything. You’ve made every decision. You won’t even let me cook!”

“What’s wrong with that? You need time to grieve. You don’t need to worry about fucking
dinner
,” I spit.

Throwing her hands out to her sides, she says, “Yes, I do! I need to be able to make my
own
choices. You can’t control everything.”

“No, Sidney,
you
can’t control everything!”

Her head snaps back as if I physically slapped her. She tries to speak, but I don’t give her a chance.

“It doesn’t matter how many fucking lists you make or how religious you are about taking your vitamin on time every day. God, don’t you see? In the end, what’s going to be is going to be and you can’t change that!” I bellow.

Tears stream down her cheeks. “You don’t understand. You don’t understand me at all.” She lets out a strangled sob and turns, gripping the edge of the counter.

“Yes, I do,” I say, my voice softer. Placing my beer on the counter beside her hand, I spin her toward me and tip her chin up.

She cuts her eyes away, refusing to meet my gaze, but I speak anyway.

“I loved him too, Sidney. I miss him too. I hate seeing these.” I swipe a tear that’s rolling down her cheek. “I just want to make everything easy for you so you have time to mourn. Do you think I enjoyed picking out his casket? God, do you think I wanted to clean his room out? Fuck no. I did that for
you
.” My voice breaks, and I have to swallow hard to keep the emotion from clogging my voice. “I love you. Jesus, I love you,” I tell her, engulfing her in my arms.

Her sobs vibrate my chest, and I take several deep breaths to keep from losing it.

She pushes away from me and looks up, her eyes swollen and still shimmering with tears. “I love you too.”

Relief floods my veins.

It’s short-lived.

“But I just can’t do this right now. I think”—she breaks off and clears her throat—“I think I need some space.” She looks away from me.

Rage bubbles up inside me. I grab the bottle of beer I set on the counter. Spinning, I launch it into my living room. It explodes as it hits the wall, liquid and foam spraying everywhere.

“Breccan!” Sidney screams.

I found her. I found the woman I want to spend my life with. And she needs
space
.

Fuck space!

I need
her.

Ignoring her pleas to calm down, I snatch my keys off the counter and stalk to the front door. Yanking the door open, I glare at her over my shoulder. “You want space? Fine. Have it.”

P
aralyzed, I stare at the door Breccan just walked out of. Five minutes pass agonizingly slowly and when he doesn’t return, I trudge to the bedroom to begin packing my belongings.

When I woke up this morning, I felt better than I had in weeks. It was the first night since his death that I hadn’t dreamt of that terrible day we lost Connor. The first morning I woke up and didn’t have to fight for a breath. The first time in a month I wanted to feel Breccan’s hands on me.

Pulling my clothes out of the drawers Breccan stuck them in, I notice Connor’s bucket list notebook under a stack of shirts.

I haven’t had the courage to open it since his death, afraid of what seeing his handwriting would do to me. Taking a deep breath, I flip it open.

The first page was the list in his messy scrawl. I can’t help smiling when I remember each of the things he was able to check off. Despite the things we did, my heart wrenches at seeing how much of it was unfinished.

Most of the pages are filled with drawings of superheroes. About halfway through the notebook, I notice a page filled with writing. Stopping on the page, I suck in a breath before sinking to my knees.

Dear Aunt Sid,

I know I’m getting sicker and I’m probably not going to get another kidney. Even though you always promised me I would. So I wanted to write you a letter, you know, just in case.

Meeting Breccan Carlisle was the coolest thing
ever
. How many people get to say that they met their idol? My friends are so jealous, and they should be! But that would have never happened if it weren’t for you. So thanks.

Skydiving was so
fuck
freaking awesome. How many kids get to say they’ve jumped out of a plane? And your face! Haha. But that would have never happened without you. You had to pull so many strings to get them to let me do it. So thanks.