Taking the Handoff, page 21
His penetrating gaze pleads with me to believe him, to hear him.
Luke can’t possibly be heartbroken because that implies I meant something to him, and if that were true he would’ve corrected me during our fight.
Right?
Thirty-Eight
My fist pounds on the door, my body aching to be near her. The minute she texted me that she wanted to talk, I rushed over here as fast as I could. This is my opening, and I suspect it’s the only one she’s going to give me.
This is my chance, and I’m not throwing it away.
Emma opens the door, and relief floods me at the sight of her. Her gorgeous green eyes are wary, but I’ll take that over the distance she gave me when I was here last night.
“Hey.” I sound breathless, but I can’t help it. God, I miss her. Even though I saw her yesterday, I’ve now gone four nights without sleeping with her body curled into mine, and I’m damn near desperate to have her in my arms again. To be able to touch her and kiss her and show her what she means to me.
“Hey,” she says, her face starting to get closed off.
“Don’t do that,” I plead.
Her gaze snaps to mine. “Do what?”
“Emotionally shut down. I can’t stand it. I need to see all your emotions, Emma. I need to know how you’re really feeling.”
She watches me cautiously for a beat before she nibbles the inside of her lip and gives me a brief nod of her head.
Thank fuck. One hurdle down. Now I just need to convince her to give me another chance.
She steps out of the way and gestures for me to come in, which I do without delay. “Where’s Drew?” I ask.
“He’s in his room watching TV. He said he was turning up the volume so he can’t eavesdrop.” She rolls her eyes, and her lips tilt up into a small smile. We both know that nosy fucker is definitely going to be doing his best to listen in.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Emma asks, fidgeting with her fingers. The nervous gesture calms some of my own nerves.
“No, I’m good.”
She nods and chews on her lip before her gaze lands on the couch, and she moves to go sit down. I follow her, and when she sits on one end, I fight every urge in my body that tells me to sit right next to her and instead sit at the other end. I know her well enough to know if I crowd her, she won’t hear me.
And I need her to hear me.
“Thanks for inviting me over.”
“Drew said I should hear you out.” She nibbles her lip again, and the movement draws my gaze straight to her lips, noticing for the first time that they lack her signature red color. Instead, they’re her natural pink—the color I’ve only seen when I’ve kissed off her lipstick.
“He said you were hurting,” she continues. My eyes move up her face to observe the disbelief and hesitancy in her gaze.
“I am,” I tell her honestly. There’s no point in being too proud to share my feelings now.
A confused expression crosses her face when she says, “I don’t understand why. You and Drew worked everything out. You guys are fine. He’s not mad at you anymore.”
My chest feels like it’s caving in that she thinks I’m only concerned about Drew. Did she feel that way the whole time we were together? I think back on our mostly perfect month and a half as a couple and try to see my actions from her perspective.
“You always thought my priority was my friendship with Drew.”
She looks at me like it’s obvious. “Well, yeah.”
Fuck. I messed this up long before I ever realized I messed it up. And I realize now that by not telling Drew from the very beginning, I just reaffirmed her belief that Drew was my priority, even though that wasn’t my intention.
“Drew is important, but he isn’t my priority. At least, he hasn’t been for quite some time.” I scoot across the couch, needing to be closer to her. “Emma, you’re my priority, and it’s been that way since I first kissed you.”
I’m no longer surprised by the shock that streaks across her face, but it does gut me in a way I’m not prepared for.
“I hate myself for making you ever question your value in my life.” Unable to hold back any longer, I reach out and hold her hand. She doesn’t pull away, which I take as another small win. “You are irreplaceable. You are everything I’ve ever wanted that I never knew I needed. My fear over telling Drew wasn’t ever really about Drew. It was about how I could keep you. That was always the driving factor behind my hesitancy to tell him. I didn’t want to lose you.”
Her eyes fill with tears, one finally slipping free down her beautiful, freckled face. I raise my hand to brush it away with my thumb. Her eyes fall closed in a look of pain and relief at the contact. I know the feeling.
“Emma,” I whisper, getting choked up myself. Her eyelids slowly lift, and the openness in them nearly does me in. “I’m so sorry, Em. More than you’ll ever know. I’m sorry I ever made you doubt my feelings for you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell Drew the minute we got together, so I could shout it from the rooftop like I wanted to. I’m sorry you thought I would choose him over you. I’m sorry I let you walk away that night thinking you were just convenient. But most of all, I’m sorry I never told you the truth.”
“What’s the truth?” she says, her voice soft and hoarse.
Letting my thumb graze across her cheek, my gaze locks on hers as I say the words I’ve never said to another woman. The words I mean with every cell in my body. “I love you.”
She launches her body at me, her arms wrapping around my neck. I catch her instantly, pulling her as close to me as I can, letting her legs straddle my hips. Our lips crash together, longing, need, and love in every touch and caress of our tongues.
She pulls back just enough to look in my eyes. “You really love me?”
“I really do. More than words could ever fully describe.”
“I love you too,” she says softly. I don’t think I’ve ever heard more wonderful words.
“I want you back, Em. I want you in my house, in my bed. You belong with me. In LA where you can pursue your dream.”
Her shoulders sag. “I can’t. My music is gone.”
I tilt her chin up until she looks at me. “It’s gone for now, but you’re too talented to give up. It’ll come back. I believe in you. Come home with me.” I kiss her, hoping I can seduce her into agreeing because I can’t live without her, and at this point I’ll do just about anything to get her to come back home.
She breaks our kiss, resting her forehead against mine. “I can’t. I promised Drew I’d stay here and take care of him until he gets back on his feet. The doctor said he can’t be on his own.”
“Good thing I already arranged an in-home nurse then, isn’t it?” We both turn our bodies to look at Drew, leaning against the door—probably to actually hold his broken ass up—watching us with a smile on his face. “By the way, Squish, the nurse will be arriving tonight, so I’m gonna need you to get your stuff packed up.”
Emma bursts into laughter, and I swear on my life, I’ve never heard a sexier sound. “You planned this?”
He smiles like the cat that ate the canary. “Oh, I hoped for it.”
“What were you going to do if I said no?”
“Kick your ass out for breaking my best friend’s heart.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically before turning back to me and planting a loud kiss on my lips. She pulls away long before I’m ready to let go and gets off my lap, heading toward the guest room.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
She glances back at me. “To pack.”
“Does that mean you’re coming home with me?” I can’t hide the hope in my voice.
“You’re sure you want me to?”
“More than I’ve ever been sure of anything.”
Her smile lights up her face, but it’s the heat in her emerald-green eyes that has my cock pulsing in my pants. She disappears into the guest room, and I turn to Drew who has a smug grin on his face.
“I knew you two kids could work it out.”
I shake my head at him. “Yeah, okay, Mr. She-won’t-hear-you.”
“Okay, so I might’ve had some small doubts, but I’m much more naturally optimistic than you are.”
“Whatever. I’m just glad she’s giving me another chance.”
“As you should be. This is the time where I’m going to stop being your best friend for a minute and talk to you as Emma’s brother.”
“Okaaayyy.” I arch my brow at him, curious where he’s going with this.
He tries to straighten up, but ends up leaning back against the frame, his face paling a little bit.
“How about you scold me while I help you lie back down.”
He nods. “That’s a good idea.”
I wrap my arm around his waist and let him lean on me as I help him walk back to the bed, his breathing labored, no doubt from his broken ribs.
“Ribs bothering you?”
“Oh, you know, just every time I take a breath, but no big deal.”
Laughing, I respond, “But clearly it hasn’t killed your sense of humor.”
He sobers a bit. “Like I said, almost dying changes your perspective on things.”
Once I help him get settled back in bed, he pins me with a serious stare. “Okay, pretend we aren’t best friends for a minute.”
I fight a smirk. “Okay.”
“If you break my sister’s heart, I’ll hunt you down and break every bone in your body and spill all your secrets to the tabloids.”
“And what will you do if she breaks my heart?”
He cracks a smile. “I’ll bring you a six-pack and then be your wingman.”
I shake my head. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Drew tilts his head. “Wait, are you telling me you’re already planning the wedding with my sister?”
“Well, seeing as how the past three days were some of the worst of my life and I’d like to avoid that at all costs—not to mention the fact I basically just invited your sister to move in with me—I’d say marrying her down the road isn’t a stretch.”
Drew just stares at me before he breaks out into a huge grin. “Holy shit, you know what I just realized?”
“What?”
“If you marry my sister, then you’ll be my actual brother. What the hell are you waiting for?”
We both burst out laughing, which of course causes Drew to groan in pain from the strain on his ribs.
Emma pops her head into the room. “What’s going on in here?”
Drew and I exchange a glance before I look at Emma, soaking in her beauty and her presence. “Oh, you know, just guy stuff.”
“Uh-huh.” She doesn’t buy it, but she doesn’t question it. We order out for lunch and hang around the apartment until the nurse comes to replace Emma. By the time we head back to my hotel, my body is on fire. All day long, Emma has given me light and gentle touches that have turned me on in immeasurable ways.
Time to return the favor.
* * *
Emma walks through my hotel room door, and I follow closely, grabbing her hand and spinning her the second we both pass the threshold. The door shuts at the same time I push her up against the wall and take her mouth in an owning kiss.
One that tells her very clearly that she owns every piece of me.
She moans into my mouth, our tongues dueling for dominance, while her hands slide under my shirt, her fingernails scraping against my skin.
My fingers weave through the silky strands of her red hair until I have a solid grip and can hold her in place while I devour her mouth.
It’s been too long since I tasted her.
My lips work their way down her neck, tasting every inch of her I can, needing to sate my craving for her. She tilts her head back and arches her body closer to mine. My fingers slide under the hem of her shirt and pull it slowly up her delectable body, revealing her creamy white skin one inch at a time.
Her lust-filled eyes watch my every move as she bites her luscious lip between her teeth. I pull her shirt over her head and toss it to the side before taking her mouth again, kissing her hard.
My cock strains against the zipper of my jeans. I want to take my time with her, make love to her, but I’m so desperate for her, I don’t know how long I’m going to last.
Without a word, her hand rubs over the outside of my pants against my painfully hard cock, causing a groan to release from my throat.
I need her naked. Right. Fucking. Now.
I pull her pants down her legs, dropping down to my knees so I can kiss her thighs. I want to get lost between these gorgeous legs of hers. I slide my fingers slowly up the inside of her legs until I reach the wet apex of her thighs. I slide them easily through her slick lower lips before pushing one inside. I pull out and push back in, adding a second finger, then a third. My gaze watches her face carefully as her eyes close in bliss at my intimate touch.
With a groan, I bury my face in between her thighs, tasting her musk and flicking her clit with my tongue while I pump my fingers steadily inside her. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling almost painfully, but it’s such a welcome pain after so many days without her touch that I don’t complain.
“Luke…” Her voice is breathy as she fights against the orgasm. “I want you inside me.”
I don’t stop my ministrations to answer her, determined to make her come this way first. She’ll get what she wants because I want nothing more than to be buried to the hilt inside her, but not until I’m done tasting her release.
She grips the back of my head, holding me in place as she loses control of her body and grinds her convulsing pussy against my face. She practically suffocates me with how tight she’s holding me against her.
But damn, what a way to go.
Her legs shake as her release washes through her, and her body sags against the wall once her orgasm has finished. I lick her once more before making my way up her body, taking a nipple into my mouth, then the other, until I finally reach her lips in a brief kiss.
While she catches her breath, I shove my pants down and kick them aside, then pull my shirt off by the neck. Once I’m naked, I pick her up, her legs immediately wrapping around my hips. I push my cock into her, and we both groan in pleasure at being connected like this again.
No one—and I mean, absolutely fucking no one—has ever felt this good.
I fuck Emma hard against the wall, giving her every piece of my heart with each thrust. When we finally both fall over the edge, we hold on to each other tight, letting our releases wash over us until we’re completely wrung out.
I kiss her neck and then pull away enough to look at her. She has a pleased smile on her face, her cheeks flushed, and in this moment, I’m determined to keep that look on her face for the rest of her life. I want all her orgasms, all her love. I want to be the father to her children. I want to be her everything.
Never again will I deny what is so painfully obvious to me now after almost losing her. Emma Delaney is the love of my damn life.
Thirty-Nine
8 months later
Nerves flutter in my belly as the lights hit the stage. I take a breath and close my eyes, soaking in the sounds of the room—shuffling feet, the clink of drink glasses being set on tables, the low murmur of people talking. I slide my fingers over my guitar, the feeling of being fully joined with my instrument one I’ll never take for granted after what it’s taken for me to get here.
Luke and I flew back to LA the day after we got back together. He had to get back to team commitments, and I needed to get back into therapy. I continued seeing Jane twice a week, and after a month, I finally heard the soft whisper of a song in my head for the first time in nearly two months—the longest I’ve ever gone without my music.
It’s been seven months since I first got my music back, and I’ve been playing almost nonstop, writing songs about my experiences since I moved to LA—the fear, the hurt, the love. Two weeks ago, I took the plunge and signed up for this open mic night. When I told Luke about it that night at dinner, he insisted on telling all our friends, so the crowd is filled with friendly and supportive faces. Bernie, Drew with his physical therapist turned girlfriend, a bunch of Luke’s teammates along with their significant others—Gabe, Will and Gina, Jack and Paige, and Matt and Nikki.
Most surprising, though, is the fact my parents are in the crowd. They’ve never once shown up to one of my performances, but they came out just for this. Our relationship has come a long way since Drew’s accident. My mom and I talk once a week, and very rarely does she criticize my life. It might help that she thinks the sun rises and sets on Luke. Insert eye roll, please.
Although, I can’t really blame her. He’s easily the best thing that’s ever happened to me. His unwavering support these past eight months, especially after particularly brutal therapy sessions, has been a godsend. Some days I even pinch myself because I still can’t quite believe that he’s mine.
Pulling my thoughts away from the man who has captured my heart, I caress the strings of my guitar before strumming the first chord. Writing this song became therapeutic and healing in its own right. It was the first song I completed after what I’m now referring to as my music hiatus. As my voice carries across the bar, everything fades away but the words, the melody, the feel of my smooth guitar strings under my callused fingers.
Nothing exists in this moment except me and my guitar.
I hit the last chord and let the music fall away on its own, my eyes looking around the bar but barely making out any of the people due to the brightness of the lights shining in my face. Silence permeates the space in the final second that the music fades away before the roar of applause hits my ears and a smile breaks across my face.
I did it. This was my test for myself to see if I was ready to pursue this crazy career again, and I passed. I can do this.
