Page 21 of Bad Call
“You still come so fucking pretty,” I whisper when she’s completely spent, pulling my fingers from her warmth. I make sure her eyes are on me before slowly pressing them to my tongue and wrapping my lips around them. Time comes to a grinding halt as heat flashes in hergaze, every one of my senses homed in on her as I lick and suck her sweet honey. My hips thrust into her thigh on their own accord, finding the hot friction I so desperately need. That’s all it takes for my balls to draw tight, a rough grunt rumbling up my chest as I pump my thick, hot load right into my boxer briefs. I’m a twenty-six-year-old grown-ass man. I’ve been having sex since I was seventeen, which coincidentally is probably the age I was when I last came in my pants. But here we are, the same girl who caused it back then looking up at me like I’m the only one she sees.
I crash my mouth to hers, twisting her to face me so I can hold her. I don’t know what this means for us, if anything. For now, I just want toexistwith Stella, pretending that we’re okay. It may only be for a minute, or maybe it’ll last longer, but I don’t care. Because in this room, with her in my arms, nothing hurts. I haven’t magically forgotten about everything she put me through when she left, but seeing another man’s hands on her dug up a lot of dormant emotions—ones I need to unpack on my own before we talk about what comes next. Not here, though. Not tonight.
She moans into my mouth, her delicate, shaky arms snaking around my neck and pulling me tight. I kiss her like my life depends on it—like if this was the last time, I’d want to make sure she’d remember—our tongues tangling in a familiar dance until we’re almost breathless, only stopping when we hear a knock on the wall beside us.
“Emmett?” Maddox says. “Are you in there with Baker’s nurse?” Stella’s hand flies up over her mouth, asharp inhale cutting through the air behind it as her eyes go wide.
A cocky grin spreads across my face, and she begs me without words to stay quiet. But fuck that. I can’t help myself. “Yep.” She slaps my shoulder, making me bark out a laugh as I listen for my teammate’s reply.
“Ohhhh, shit. This is going to be good.”
TWENTY
EMMETT
I ring the doorbell,wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. After what happened last night at Jett’s house, I wanted to be the first one here so I could talk to Theo privately. He had already left by the time Stella and I returned to the kitchen, and there was no way I was apologizing for my actions over the phone. He invited the guys over to watch the Cleveland Crunch game tonight, since hockey season is still in full swing, so now is as good a time as any to clear the air if he’s willing to hear me out.
In the distance, I hear a long, loud string of barks, followed by heavy footsteps as they approach the door. It swings open, and Theo appears, using his entire body to prevent the dog from running outside. “Boner, relax,” he scolds as the large, energetic mix leaps into the air repeatedly. His tongue hangs from the side of his mouth, floppy ears bouncing, but definitely not hearing a word of Theo’s request.
“Come on in, man,” he says, wrapping his fingers around Boner’s harness and holding him back so I canenter. When he first told us the dog’s name, I honestly thought he was kidding. But I should’ve known better because here he is, in the flesh—orfur—with the moniker engraved on the tag that dangles from his chest.
He closes us in, releasing Boner from his grasp. His large paws skid along the hardwood flooring for several seconds until he gains enough traction to take off in my direction. Barreling into my legs like the giant, clumsy oaf he is, he sniffs until he’s sure I’m not a malicious intruder before finally standing down. I’m pretty sure all he’d do if I actually did come here to rob the place is lick me to death, but he’s cute, nonetheless.
“Sorry about him,” Theo mutters as Boner trots toward the fluffy bed in the corner of the entryway, spins around several times, and lies down. He looks exhausted from his little outburst, his big puppy eyes moving back and forth between us before finally falling closed. “He’s a bit of a handful.”
“I see that,” I reply with a quiet chuckle, following as he leads me toward the living room. It’s surprisingly nice, nothing like the bachelor pad I was expecting. It’s clean and modern, with dark, shiny floors, sleek neutral-colored furniture, and a giant stone fireplace that takes up almost an entire wall. Flames dance and crackle behind a tall grate, calming my nerves slightly as we each take an opposite end of the plush, wraparound sectional.
The air between us is a little thicker than normal, which I hate, because he’s generally the easiest of all my teammates to be around. I just want to get everything out in the open so we can hopefully move forward, although that would be up to him. I assaulted him when he was justtrying to help—a total dick move on my part—so I’d understand if he was still pissed at me and needed more time. But, either way, I need to man up and tell him that I’m sorry.
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees, taking a deep breath. Maybe it’s because I know that I’m about to relive the pain of my past out loud, but I’m struggling to spit the words out as he stares at me from across the couch.
“I owe you an apology for last night,” I say quietly, lifting my eyes to look at him. “I was completely out of line when I put my hands on you. I saw you take Stella upstairs and just…lost my shit. It’s not an excuse for my behavior, but you have my word that it’ll never happen again. I’m really sorry, bro.”
He chews on the inside of his cheek, and for a minute, I think he’s going to tell me to fuck off. But when he leans back into the cushions and kicks his feet up onto the large ottoman, a mischievous grin stretching across his face, I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Can’t fault a guy for protecting hiswife,” he replies, putting extra emphasis on the last word. I cringe internally, preparing myself for the onslaught of questions about to be fired in my direction. But I’m fucking tired of keeping this part of myself hidden. Especially now that Stella is back in my life.
I sit back, dragging my hands over my face. “She’s my ex-wife. We got married right out of high school, barely made it six months, and here we are, almost eight years later, seeing each other for the first time. I thought I was over it—that I hated her for leaving. But the moreI’m around her, the more I realize that I never really let go.”
He nods thoughtfully, letting the information sink in for a few beats before he speaks. “Do you evenwantto let go? Are you looking for closure with her, or are you trying to see if there’s anything left to save?”
Releasing a heavy sigh, I consider what he’s asking. In a perfect world, Stella and I could just pick up where we left off. I want nothing more than to wake up with her in my arms every morning with no fear that she’d walk away again. But the truth is that Iamafraid of that. Every city we go to has its fair share of women vying for our attention, whether we want it or not. I’ve had my hotel room broken into, my underwear stolen, and been touched inappropriately without my consent countless times. My life as a professional athlete is everything those girls back at UCLA told her it would be, even though I wish it weren’t. I’ve tried my best not to buy into it, ignoring advances from anyone who seemed to have bad intentions, but it’s not always easy to tell. That’s why most of my dates are set up by a publicist, and end promptly after whatever event I’ve been roped into attending. But failing to convince Stella that my head would never turn is exactly how I lost her the first time. Could I really risk going through that all over again if doubt manages to find its way back in?
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I barely survived the divorce. I had to get shitty drunk just to sign the papers when they came. The next morning, I ran to the mailbox to take them out, but they had already been picked up. That’s when I accepted that fate had taken over, and we really weren’tmeant to be. Let me tell you, that shit hurt like hell. I don’t know if I could go through it for a second time.”
He puts a hand up, stopping me. “Hold on. You just said that you accepted fate back then. So, why can’t that be what this is? Maybe that wasn’t the right time. Maybe you both had to figure out how to live life on your own in order to really appreciate one another. Fate may have pulled you apart when you were younger, but it can just as easily bring you back together now, right?”
My heart twists in my chest, his words rolling around in my head on repeat, getting louder and clearer by the second. I thought it was over the day those divorce papers were taken, knowing I had signed away everything I’d ever wanted. But what if Theo’s right? Stella was the only person who mattered to me from the time I was five years old. We did everything together. When the time came to go away to college thousands of miles away from her, I did the only thing I could think of to bind us together—I asked her to marry me. I knew it was impulsive, but I loved her so much, and I couldn’t stand the thought of being apart. So, I ignored her reservations, telling her again and again that the monsters she was afraid of weren’t real. I was immature and nowhere near ready to be what she needed, but I’m not that guy anymore. Even in the short time I’ve been a Renegade, I’ve grown so much, opening myself up in ways that I couldn’t for so long. And now, in the midst of it, my best friend—the only person I’ve ever wanted to share my life with—has been dropped right back into my path. It may take weeks, months, or years to figure our shit out, but I’m not willing to ignore the signs that are blinking like giant billboards in front of me.
“I have to go,” I say abruptly, shooting to my feet. I need to see Stella…right now.
He smirks. “Hell yeah, you do, buddy.” I give him an awkward thumbs up becauseapparently, I do that now, rushing from the room like my ass is on fire. But just as I hit the entryway, the doorbell rings. Boner lets out a boisterous howl, losing his footing as he scurries to the door. Theo rolls his eyes, leisurely walking over and getting intohuman shieldstance.
“Damn it, Boner,” he grumbles, using his knee to keep the dog back before yanking on the knob. He greets the guys, ushering them inside as they’re licked and sniffed by the wild beast. Jett steps through first, followed by Maddox, and then Austin. I immediately assume he’s not alone, my heart thumping loudly in my chest at the thought of seeing Stella, but she never comes.
“Did you catch a ride here?” I ask, taking his extended hand in mine and pulling him in for a quick hug. I’m trying to be nonchalant, but I’m definitely fishing for information.
“Nope,” he replies. “Stella said I had to”—he puts two fingers up on each side of his head, curling them into air quotes—“stop being a little bitch and drive myself, because my shoulder is fine.”
