Page 12 of Wrap Around
She nods. "See you tomorrow. Love you."
"Love you," I say with a little wave before ending the call.
Tossing my phone on the bed, I head into the bathroom before Gideon looks over and sees my reaction to him. The steam still lingers in the air, curling around my senses, fogging more than the mirror. The scent of his spicy body wash is heavy. I close my eyes and breathe it in like a drug.
It shouldn't hit me this hard. It's just soap. It's just steam. It's just a memory of another life that I'll never get back.
But damn, it hits me.
It hits me hard, making the semi I sprouted in the bedroom fill to full mast.
I wonder if he ever thinks about me the way I think about him. If he ever aches like I do. If he remembers that day at the lake and feels like he's burning from the inside out to get back there.
In the shower, I use his body wash by accident, lathering my body with his scent and wishing it was his sweat instead. I'm barely aware of my hand wrapping around my cock until I'm biting back a groan. Just like always, I close my eyes and imagine what he was doing just minutes ago, when he stood in this very spot and washed himself. Did he jerk off with me in the other room? What does he think about when he touches himself, and what does he do if he thinks about me? Does it make him excited? Does he imagine me touching him the way I did that day? Or does he pinch himself the way they taught us to when we were young, to redirect our thoughts back to purity?
My thoughts are anything but pure right now. He's the only one I ever think about. Because there's never been anyone else for me. Not like that.
There was one night when I was almost weak enough. I don't even know why I went. It was probably Lily's idea, she was always trying to encourage me to get out and meet people, even thoughthere was the risk of exposure. So I went to a club in whatever city we were in. The music was too loud, the flashing lights too bright.
A man that looked the slightest bit familiar, his blond hair reflecting the red from the lights, square jaw flexing, biceps filling out his tight t-shirt, caught my eye. He gave me a look, and I followed him down a dark hallway, thinking maybe I could do this. Maybe I could want him instead. Maybe I could feel something again.
But when he turned and reached for me, fingers curling into the front of my waistband to pull me forward, I froze. All I could see was Gideon's face. All I could feel were his lips on mine.
I ran. Left before the stranger could replace his kiss or his touch.
I've saved that part of myself—everypart of myself—for someone who will never want me back. Not again.
When I come out of the bathroom, the lights are off. I crawl into bed and lay there, listening to the patterns of his breathing. He's awake.
I hesitate for so long, I almost startle myself with the sound of my voice in the quiet room.
"I don't care if you hate me," I say quietly. "I don't even care if you want to tank this whole damn team just to prove a point. But Lily doesn't deserve the cold shoulder from you."
There's no response. Just a rustle of sheets.
"She's your sister, Gideon. She loves you, and she's missed you so much." I let out a deep breath. "You can shut me out all you want, but it isn't fair to shut her out, too. You're hurting her. I'll leave the house so you don't have to see me, or she'll meet yousomewhere else if you don't want to be in our home. But please, for the love of God, stop avoiding her."
Still nothing. But after a beat, his scathing tone slithers through the dark room like a noxious fume meant to paralyze my heart.
"Don't you dare bring God into this," he mutters. "He was never a part of what we did."
I don't know what to say to that. So I don't say anything at all.
I hit the ice with zero expectations.
At this point, I don’t know what to expect from Gideon. The tension between us keeps building, and there has to be a breaking point. It’s getting closer every day.
He’s been ignoring me more aggressively this past week, and it’s starting to cost us. The whole team’s on edge, stuck in a losing streak, and everyone feels it.
The thing is, wecouldbe great. There’s nothing like having a partner on the ice you can trust. Someone you can feel behind you before they even make themselves known. Unfortunately, it’s looking more and more like Gideon’s never going to be that guy. Not for me. Not ever again.
Every time I skate near him, he pulls back. He avoids eye contact, doesn’t call for the puck, doesn’t respond when I do. The only time he acknowledges me is when he has no choice.
And now his attitude’s bleeding into everything else. He gets sent to the box for interference, and Greensboro scores during a power play that could have been avoided.
The goal shouldn’t have happened. The penalty shouldn’t have happened. But here we are.
I stare at him from the bench, jaw tight, shoulders tense. He doesn't just look angry. He looks like he's in pain.
