Page 30 of Possession

“Right, baby.” I drop a kiss on her forehead and wonder if Kevan can feel me loving on her, if that shit makes him uncomfortable, but I get the strong sense that he doesn’t give a shit because he’s rubbing Tim’s leg.

Tim shakes his head. “No. That’s ridiculous. Olive cannot fold sweat towels. I’m going to fix this, Olive, I promise. This is my fuck up. If I’d just been open about myself years ago, this would never have happened…”

“Hey,” I interrupt. “First of all, nobody in this room can fault you for not being honest and open. Look at me and Olive. She wouldn’t have been at that banquet with you if I’d been honest with her sooner, right?” Tim rolls his eyes. “And second, I appreciate you wanting to help. I do. But I’m going to take care of my girl. There’s no reason she can’t enroll in the graduate program she’s looking at while she folds towels. Right?” Kevan’s eyes go wide. Olive stiffens a bit. “Babe?”

She swallows and shakes her head. “I just don’t see a way, Bax. Without a recommendation from Justin, with getting fired…no references…what program would take me?”

The air is heavy and quiet for a few minutes until Kevan clears his throat and declares it time for him to get Tim home for ice and stim.

“Gross, Kev,” I say, flicking him. He pulls me in for a hug and they take off down the hall.

I eye up the ladder to Olive’s loft bed and I know there’s no way in hell my ass is getting up there. “Come on,” I say to her. “You’re sleeping at my place.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Olive

BAX AND I walk to his suite hand in hand, him carrying my overnight bag. This feels so much the same as before, and yet so different. There’s a huge weight lifted, even though my life is crashing down right now. I told Bax I love him. He loves me back. He found me a replacement job…even if it does kind of suck. I can never say that out loud to him.

I sigh and lean my head against his shoulder. I’ll fold towels for a few months if I need to. I can finish my degree. Who knows? Maybe I can get a job in a clinic or something and put off grad school for a year. That will give me more time to figure out where Bax gets drafted anyway. After the game he had this week, it seems pretty certain he will go in the first round. I heard Scotty and Coach talking about it.

“I love that you found me a new job,” I tell him, kissing his shoulder. We get to Bax’s suite and he waves at his roommates, who all sort of grunt without turning away from their video game. Bax tugs me into his room and, shutting the door, pulls me into his arms.

“I’ll do anything to keep you by my side,” he says, kissing my neck.

“That feels really nice.”

“Which part?” He asks, kissing again, dragging his tongue up my throat.

I let my hands explore his shoulders, tickling down his chest. “All of it,” I tell him. “Knowing you care. Feeling your kisses. All of it.”

“I want you to feel all my kisses,” he tells me, and warmth blooms throughout my body, pulsing in my center as he tugs me closer.

I stretch up to meet his mouth with mine, groaning into his kiss. Everything about last night was so perfect. Even if I have a tinge of soreness today, I know it will fade and Bax will make me forget it by delivering waves of pleasure again. “I want to feel all of you,” I tell him. “I want to figure out my favorite way to be close to you.”

He smiles and rubs his stubble against my cheek. “I’ve got some ideas to test out,” he says, and for the next few hours, we work on some experiments.

My alarm goes off at the same time as Baxter’s, but I realize I don’t actually need to be up at this hour. I am not going to the training room today. I’m not going to stretch anyone’s sore muscles, tape any ankles, or heal anyone’s injuries. I untangle my limbs from Baxter’s and try to roll to the side of his bed.

He tugs me back closer. “Oh no you don’t,” he says, spinning me to face him. I see his brown eyes twinkle in the morning light. “No feeling sorry for yourself today.”

“You said I could have a day…”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he says, swatting my back side. I yelp from the sting of his palm, and then I moan when he starts to rub the spot he smacked. “Mmm,” he says. “I wish I had time.” He crawls under the covers and bites me on the ass, making me shriek. “I gotta get to the weight room, Livvy. But I’m marking this spot for later so I can pick up where we left off.”

I hear someone pound on the door. “Morgan,” Scotty yells. “Get your shit together. Finnegan’s driving in five.”

Baxter kisses me one more time and springs up, pulling on sweats and a pair of sneakers from his closet. “I’ll find you later, ok?” I nod. “Leslie is supposed to call you today from financial aid. Be ready.”

I smile again, watching him walk away. Eventually, I get up and make myself a coffee in Baxter’s kitchen before heading to class. My phone rings, and I start to think that Leslie is pretty damn efficient to be calling before nine on a Monday, but when I look at my phone, I see an out of state number.

“Hello?”

“Olive Hampton? Bradford Clark. We met at the athletic banquet.”

Bradford Clark? I rack my brains and come up empty. I’m about to mutter some excuse, when he carries on. “I know there was some excitement there toward the end. That’s what I’m calling about. I just spoke with Tim Peterson.”

Bradford is the kinesiology professor from Ann Arbor. I remember meeting him at the banquet, before everything erupted. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to email, sir…”

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