Page 22 of False Start
“There aren’t any guarantees in life, Coach. Anything could take us out at any moment. I could play a game and take hit after hit all night and walk off the field only to be hit by a bus outside the stadium. You can’t let fear make you afraid to connect with someone. What if I’m meant to be the father of your children, and you’re fucking with fate by turning me down.”
I come to the landing and wait for him, but look into a small window to see glowing lights. “Oh, this is about fate now?”
“It’s been about fate since the moment we met, Z.”
When he’s up the ladder, he takes my hand, and we go around the outside of the house until we reach a door. We step inside to a scene out of a movie. Warm Christmas lights are hung from the ceiling, and soft music plays from a record player beside a double bed pushed against one wall of the house.
“There’s a refrigerator and sink? This is a house, not a treehouse.”
“It’s my man cave,” he replies and jams his hands into his pockets as he nervously looks at the floor for a moment. “I just realized what this looks like. I didn’t bring you here with expectations.”
I smile at him to put him at ease, and then I pull my hand from his and have a look around the room. There’s a television centered in an entertainment center, and bookcases are built on either side. The cases are full of board games, books, and gaming equipment.
“Would you like a drink?” he asks.
“No, I’m okay. I love this place. It’s very you.”
“It’s not a hunting cabin on a bunch of acres, but it’s my little spot away from everyone.”
“It’s cozy.”
“You’re beautiful.”
I’ve ignored all of his attempts at complimenting me prior to now, but he’s irresistible. I can no longer deny the attraction or the growing emotions I have for Bryant. Seeing him with my grandmother forced me to look past the football player in him.God. Do I really want to go down this route with him?
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I reply.
His hand flies to his chest in shock. “Did Zhanna Hale just compliment me?”
“You know.”
His long legs bring him to me in three strides. “I know what?”
“You know you’re attractive.”
“I’m more concerned with what you think about the situation.” He lifts his hand and touches my cheek before he swipes his thumb over the apple of my cheek. “I’d give a prize organ to know what goes through your beautiful mind.”
“In regards to you? Oh, that’s easy! You never cross my mind.”
“Baby, you texted me at midnight. That tells me I crossed your mind.”
I’m sure a legitimate and plausible explanation exists as to how I was texting him and absolutely not thinking about him at the same time, but I can’t think while he’s touching me. Also, the cologne he wears must be made of Aphrodite’s tears. He has an unfair advantage.
“Don’t overthink this thing between us. It’s existed since the moment I laid eyes on you. I feel you down to my bones, and I know you feel it, too.”
I do feel it, but I wish I didn’t. There has to be a way to fuck him out of my system. If he would cooperate, I could get it over with. And I intend to do just that as I stand on my toes and press my lips to his. He pulls me into him and kisses me harder as my arms circle his neck.
He pulls back slightly after breaking the kiss. “You agreed to fourteen dates. This is not a date.”
“Whatever,” I reply and pull him back to me by the front of his shirt.
But he stops short of my puckered lips. “I mean it, Zhanna. I have fourteen dates to plan.”
“I swear to Jesus, if you don’t stop talking, there won’t beanydates.”
He must realize I mean business, because he stops running his mouth and kisses me like it’s his job. He bends down slightly, grabs me by the hips, and lifts me until I wrap my legs around him. And then he walks backward to the bed and sits on the edge. His rough hands slide underneath my shirt and against the sensitive skin on my back. Then they travel back down to my hips where he presses me down closer to his crotch. The friction is enough to make me break the kiss, moan shamelessly, and throw my head back in ecstasy. I’ve needed another release since the moment he made me come Thursday night. I’ve needed him if I’m honest with myself.
“Fuck, baby,” he says against my throat. “You are so sexy.” Bryant cups my center and moans. “You’re soaked through your pants.” And before I can reply, he flips us and presses my back into the mattress. His fingers hook inside the waistband of my black yoga pants and pull until they’re off and on the floor. My panties follow soon after, and then he spreads my legs and runs a finger up and down my pussy. “You make it fucking impossible to resist you.” I reach for his belt, but he backs away. “Tell me I still get my fourteen dates.”
