Page 70 of Pretty Broken Promises

“But how can you know that when you haven’t been able to for weeks now?” Tessa asks.

“I promise we will talk about all of this, but right now let me take care of you. I only just put it all together tonight,” I urge her.

Tracy silently heads toward the door to let Tessa and I talk. She waves goodbye before walking out.

“Tessa, what did you mean when you said that you shouldn’t be alone here?”

She bites her lip, and looks down. Her hands grip the towel and pull it tighter around her body. She inhales, taking a slow, deep breath before she looks back up at me. “Sometimes when I’m alone my thoughts get too loud. I’ve tried to stay busy, but there’s only so much I can do right now.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“When? I’ve barely seen you for weeks now. And I’m not blaming you. I know that this is what it’s going to be like, and I can support you in this. I don’t want you to think I’m going to fall apart every time you have an away game, or need to practice late. There’s just something that’s bubbled to the surface, and I’m not quite ready to deal with it yet.”

“It’s Saturday. The rules say that they have to give us a day of rest. Coach Greer has been taking advantage of the fact that I feel grateful for this opportunity, and of our history. I’m turning my phone off tomorrow and spending the day with you, unless you have to work.”

She gives me a little smile. “You know, I think Carol is getting a little sick of seeing me. I’d love to spend the day with you.”

ChapterTwenty-Eight

TESSA

True to hisword Ford turns his phone off when we go to bed on Saturday night. We both sleep in on Sunday until about ten. Even then, neither of us are in a hurry to get out of bed. In fact, we both take turns in the bathroom attending to our needs and brushing our teeth before climbing right back into bed.

“I thought you were joking about spending a lazy day in bed. Is this really all you want to do with your one day off?” I ask him.

His hazel eyes sparkle. It’s either that he’s got dirty thoughts playing in his head or it could be due to sunlight slipping through the slats in the blinds. “I do have other ideas. How about I show you?”

His large hands grab my waist and roll me underneath him. I squirm and thrash about because my sides are ticklish. I'm laughing and begging him to stop.

“I like you begging, but not to stop,” he says.

He lets go of my waist and slowly drags his hands up my torso. His fingers brush lightly along the sides of my breasts. He continues higher up my chest, up the column of my throat, along the line of my jaw until both of his hands are cradling my face.

Ford's eyes hold mine. We share a look that contains an entire conversation. He may not be using words, but our souls are speaking to each other.

“I've missed you,” he says, with so much feeling behind his words. “I come to you every night, but I still miss you like I haven't seen you in weeks.”

“I'm sorry about last night,” I apologize.

Every time my emotions overcome me and other people can see the cracks I try and hide, it feels like being exposed. I know I should be able to share everything with Ford, but I don't want him to see me as a burden. I especially don't want him to think that he can't leave me alone for any period of time. I'm a grown woman, I don't need a babysitter.

He drops his head down into the crook of my neck and just holds me for a moment. I can feel how fast his heart is racing because of how we are pressed together. After a minute, he rolls us to our sides, and somehow we end up more tangled up in each other. It's quite symbolic actually. Every move we make seems to get us more enmeshed in each other's lives.

“I was afraid that you had enough of me being gone all the time and took off. But that only lasted for maybe a minute, and then the real horror settled in that something bad happened to you. I didn't see any evidence that you had been home, and I started to worry that somebody took you on your way from the café. I can't believe I've been letting you take public transportation and I didn't even think about it. I'm going to call Sin later this afternoon and find out when they are going to be coming with your car. Until then, I want you to take my truck.”

“No thank you,” I tell him automatically. “I appreciate it, really, but there's one problem with your incredibly sweet offer. I do not know how to park that giant beast you call a vehicle. There is no way I am going to be able to maneuver that thing in Seattle traffic. The café isn't even open when you need to go to the training facility, so you taking me is out of the question. I can take public transportation.”

Ford releases some of his pent-up frustration and anxiety in a deep, rumbling growl. Then, he kisses me desperately. At first, I don't know how to keep up with him. He sucks in my bottom lip and pulls gently with his teeth. Then his tongue flicks against the seam of my mouth, begging entrance, and as soon as I open for him his tongue tangles with mine.

Kissing him has always been exciting, but I am moaning into his mouth, breathing the same air, and on the verge of coming from kissing alone. His hand slips into my hair, grabs hold, and prevents me from moving. Now my only choice is to submit completely to this kiss.

His hand relaxes, and our mouths move together more slowly. Somehow this makes it deeper and even more intense. My hands slip around his back, and I hold him tight to me. I need more.

Ford seems content to continue kissing and nothing else, but my clit practically has its own heartbeat at this point and I can feel the walls of my pussy clenching around nothing. I wrap my legs around his waist and grind against his very noticeable erection.

He ignores me for a few moments, before growling again. This time it doesn't sound like it's caused by anxiety, although it does sound like there's a fair amount of frustration involved. His large hands grip my hips and he presses himself against me hard, in just the right spot making my eyes roll back into my head.

“Is this what you need?” His voice sounds low and rough.

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