Page 57 of Cherry Picking
Right now, I need to say it. I need to feel it. Needhimto feel it. Before I crawl out of my skin.
“Griff.” He hasn’t reciprocated in as many words, but I know it. I know it in the way he holds me at night and kisses me awake every morning.
“Get off with me?”
“Right now?”
I smirk and rub my hand up my thigh. I’m not hard, but an orgasm would force my body to relax.
“Not up for it, old man?”
Teasing Riley about his age is a special occasion quip, because he really doesn’t act like a man in his early thirties. At least, not when it comes to our bedroom activities. He’s still as much of a Mama Hen as ever, but I think that has less to do with his age and more just his personality.
“I know you have a morning wood situation going on.”
He chuckles, and it makes the mess in my chest flutter.
“You’re insatiable these days, baby.” A sigh leaves his lips, and it’s followed by a terse silence. “You know you can still talk to me, right? About hockey. It’s not a sore spot.”
It is, though. I’ve seen it in the far away look in his eyes this last week. He’s been holding something back, and the only thing that’s changed is that I got called up.
Something Riley has been secretly waiting for ever since he was sent down in the first place.
He played his ass off for this league, and I’m sure it’s hard not to feel resentful that they never gave him a second chance.
I don’t want him to resent me for taking this opportunity, so I’ve been trying my best not to rub it in.
“Griffin. I’m happy for you. You deserve this.”
“I wish this was something we could do together.”
It’s as close as I can get to admitting my biggest fear: that we’ll never play together again. That this is the end of this part of our relationship as we know it, and I’m not sure how we come back from it.
“Do you want me to drive up for the game? It’s not the same, but I’m here to support you, baby. If you need me there—want me there—I’ll be there.”
Riley’s surgeon cleared him to drive almost two weeks ago, but I don’t want to push him to sit in a car that long. At least on the planes or the bus he can stand up and stretch his legs. Sure, he can take breaks to walk around, but it feels silly to ask him to drive all the way out here just to watch a game I most likely won’t even get to play.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Riles,” I say, clearing my throat of the clogged emotions building up. “But if you’re here, all I’m going to be thinking about is jumping your bones the second we’re alone.”
“How did you ever survive before I got injured?” The hurt in his voice betrays the dry humored tone he was going for.
“Maybe, uh, you could come up just before I leave? Let me take you out on a date where no one we know will see us?”
I hate saying it, but he’s giving me an inch by opening up to his family; I don’t want to push him too hard until we see how that goes.
“I’d like that,” he says softly, and I realize that all the anxious tension in my shoulders is missing.
It’s not the sex that does it for me, it’s just Riley.
“So, I’ll see you in a few days?”
“Absolutely. But hey, Griff?”
“Yeah?”
“Call me anytime. Text me. Send me pics. I’m not just here for booty calls and pep talks, you know?”
I fall back on the bed and smile, desperately wishing he were here for me to wrap my arms around and press my face into his strong corded neck.
