Page 82 of Fault Line

Speaking of which, I can still smell her lingering scent on my pillow. The sweet smell of her bodywash and the faint hint of essential oil that always clings to her skin. It’s intoxicating.

A familiar heat rises in my body, and fuck, I’m hard again just thinking about her.

I picture her lying next to me, her head resting on my chest, my fingers dancing across the lines of her collarbone. By now, I’ve fully memorized the feel of her skin, soft and warm, and the way she always nuzzles her face into the crook of my neck.

My hand drifts down to the growing bulge in my boxers, and I close my eyes, relishing the sensation of my fingers tracing the outline of my cock. It’s only been a few hours since she left, and I can still taste her on my lips, the way her tongue twines with mine as she arches into me.

Goddammit.

I can’t obsess over being inside of Kaia right now. I have practice in a few minutes, and I still need to wake up the fucking sideline squad down the hall. So I force myself to pull my hand away, trying to ignore the throbbing ache in my groin.

Trust me, it’s not easy.

This girl’s always had a way of getting under my skin, of making me want all the things I shouldn’t—of making me wanteverything—as long as it’s with her.

* * *

Saturday,post-game and adrenaline still pumping, I swing by Kaia’s place to pick her up. As she steps out of her apartment building, I can’t resist admiring how stunning she is. Her hair’s styled in loose waves that frame her face perfectly, and she’s wearing a simple dress that hugs her curves in all my favorite places.

She’s the epitome of perfection, and she’s all mine.

We make our way to my car, and I open the door for her like the fucking gentleman I am. I watch as she slides into the passenger seat, the skirt of her dress riding up a little. I gulp in a breath to center myself before closing the door and hustling over to the driver’s side.

Our ride there is filled with easy conversation and cozy silences, and before I know it, we’re pulling up to the hotel I booked for us. We have just enough time to set down our bags, grab a drink of water, and check our hair in the mirror before heading over to the Dayton Institute of Medicine.

As we make the short drive over, my nerves edge their way to the surface. I’m not usually one to stress over shit like this, but I want to make a good impression this weekend. Not just for myself but for Kaia, too.

I turn to her in the parking lot before we head in, placing a firm hand on her shaking knee.

“Before we go inside,” I say, giving her a quick little squeeze, “I have something I need to say to you.”

She gives me a tight smile, cocking her to the side. “You’re freaking me out here, Beck.”

“No need to spiral.” I give her a reassuring smile. “I just want you to know that this isn’t a competition for me.”

“What?”

“This. Tonight. This whole weekend.” I tap my thumb against her inner thigh, swirling it in small little circles. “Despite whatever thoughts are brewing in that beautiful brain of yours, none of this is a competition between us. Sure, I’d like to make a good impression on our advisor, but that’s never going to come at your expense. You got that?”

“Got it.” She swallows, thick and heavy, before her expression turns rueful. “So, you’re saying you don’t want me to throw you to the wolves in front of our professor and all her colleagues?”

The corner of my mouth quirks. “If you think you could manage it, that would be swell.”

“Don’t worry, Beck.” She smooths out the nonexistent wrinkles in her dress. “I don’t need to tear you down to build myself up.”

“Because you think I’ll fumble on my own?”

“No, I know you won’t.” Her voice dips, a disingenuous sweetness to her tone. “We can both shine this weekend. But I also won’t apologize if I naturally shine brighter.”

“So happy you’re willing to share the stage with me, Karras.”

“Anything for you, Becker.”

I shake my head, amused, as I hop out of the car. When I open up the passenger-side door and offer my hand to her, she quickly declines, reminding me to be professional in front of our advisor.

She’s right, anyway. We probably shouldn’t be caught kissing in front of Dr. Khatri, especially not during a networking event.

Instead, we walk side by side, a safe distance apart from one another as we head to the entrance of the DIM building. It doesn’t take long for us to spot our advisor, and she greets us with a welcoming smile.

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