Page 30 of Wicked Serve

I drag my hands down his strong back. “I woke up alone.”

“I know.” He sounds serious, thoughtful. “I thought... it would be better, I guess. Cleaner, for both of us. I knew if I tried—”

“There was nothing clean about it.” I shake my head, replaying the moment I realized he wasn’t in my borrowed summer apartment. I waited too long to see if he would come back, and felt like such an idiot once morning turned to afternoon, and eventually evening. Just like Chance on my seventeenth birthday. “It hurt, Nik. It made me feel like... like everything you told me over the summer was fake. Like whatever we shared—”

“It wasn’t fake.”

I press my lips together tightly. My heart does cartwheel after cartwheel.

“It wasn’t fake, Isabelle,” he says quietly. “It was real, all of it. Real enough that I knew if I tried to say goodbye, I’d just beg for more instead.”

My breath stutters. “Then you should have said something.”

“I know,” he says quietly.

Even if it was real, there’s a reason why we didn’t make plans past August. He has his life and I have mine, and they don’t fit together. He might think he wants me, but if this keeps going, eventually he’ll realize just how much better he can do.

Yet he’s here, looking at me with hunger in his eyes. He’s especially handsome like this, his broad chest on display, dark hair slicked back, water droplets dotting his still-tanned skin. I almost trace my fingers down his rib cage—but then I remember the library. Did he push me out to try and control himself? Is he as much of a live wire around me as I am around him?

“I’m supposed to be focusing this semester,” I say, nails digging into his skin. “No distractions.”

“Calling me a distraction, sunshine?”

I manage what I hope is a casual enough shrug. “If the shoe fits.”

“Your brother warned me away from you, you know. I may have said something about you to him last fall.”

I sigh. “Oh, Nik.”

“It was the first time I saw you.” He presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “I was unfairly distracted. I couldn’t say nothing about the prettiest girl in the stands.”

I can’t stop my smile. Just a tiny one, though. No wonder Cooper talked to me about him the other day. “Stop it, you’re going to make me blush.”

“Good.” He leans in, his warm breath making me shiver anew. “You know, I think I like you soaking wet best.”

My pussy actually throbs at that. I gasp in surprise. He just grins.

“What?” he says with fake innocence. “The beach, the pool...”

I hit his shoulder lightly. “I can’t even with you.”

The amusement fades as seriousness takes over his face again. “It can be our secret. What we do together is no one’s business but ours, anyway.”

I shouldn’t say yes. He might be able to handle it, but I know I won’t. My romanticism has bitten me one too many times, and I can already see how this will end. Eventually, I’ll feel too much. Eventually, he’ll move on, and my heart will be the one in pieces.

But he’s holding me close right now. He’s looking at me with warmth in his eyes.

The last time my heart felt this fragile, and I trusted a boy anyway, the road led to nothing but pain. It flutters all the same, begging me to give in.

I run my fingertip down his scar. “Just until we work it out of our systems.”

“Everyone needs a little stress relief now and then. Especially athletes.”

I nod seriously. “It should be on training plans.”

He laughs—his best laugh, deep in his chest and absolutely infectious—and scoops me into his arms, carrying me out of the pool.

“I want you inside me,” I say, breathless with laughter. I dig my nails into his skin for emphasis as I cross my legs over his lower back. “Since you didn’t let me help you come last time.”

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