What did I just do?
I saw Chance going into the photo lab on my way to practice, and I figured if she was still there when I finished up, I’d go in there and finish what we’d started this morning. How fucking wrong was I.
Now I’m sitting in my car, dick hard as fucking stone. The scent of her is still fresh every time I inhale, and I let it wash over me. My hands ball on my thighs, as I let the memory of her sweet lips pull me under. I want more, I need more.
I’ve been watching Chance for the last couple of months. She’s way out of my league, I never thought I’d actually get a chance with her, and I’m not surprised she needs time to process, I came on strong. But fuck it, I deserve to get what I want. I’m done holding back. I’ll give her the time, space, and whatever else she needs, but this is happening.
A loud thump makes me jump in my seat and I glare at Mase, standing next to my window, a shit eating grin on his face. I hit the button to lower my window, “What?”
His grin intensifies at my tone, “You fucking around with Camera Girl now?” he asks, brows waggling.
I let out a deep breath, “No. Maybe. I don’t know. And her name’s Chance.”
Mase starts laughing so hard, he bends at the waist and clutches my window frame for support, “I know what her name is, dickwad. You are so whipped, man, and you haven’t even fucked her yet. Jesus, does she have a magical pussy under those weird skirts she wears?”
As soon as he’s upright again, my fist launches into his jaw, “Don’t talk shit about her, Mase, she’s different. Got it?” Mase is my closest friend, he’s the only one who knows who I am underneath Carter Cross, future football star.
He sobers, “For real? Since when?”
I shrug, “I don’t know. But I’m done keeping my distance.”
Mase walks around the front of my Everest, opens the passenger door, throws his gear over to the back seat, then faces me, “So what, you’re with her now?”
Running my hand through my hair I mutter, “Not yet, but soon.”
His eyes go wide, “Since fucking when do you do monogamy?”
Again, all I have is a shrug. “I told her I wouldn’t fuck around as long as we’re messin’ around. And I meant it.” What I don’t say, is that I’m pretty fucking sure once I get her, I’ll never let her go.
Mase throws his arms in the air, acting like the drama queen he is, “Who’s going to be my wingman now?”
I snort and start to relax, “Like you need a wingman. You just want someone to thin out the flock so it’s easier for you to choose,” I say as I turn the key in the ignition and pull out of the student parking lot. I see Chance strolling across the lot over to her little old-school car in the far corner as I turn onto the street, and smile to myself. Don’t take too long to think about it, sweetness. Patience is not one of my strengths, I think as I drive away from her.
Mase’s presence effectively deflated my boner when he got in the car, thank fuck ‘cause it made driving uncomfortable. I drove to the gym feeling better than I had in weeks. The weight of indecision has been lifted from my shoulders, and I allow myself to enjoy it.
Walking into the gym I crack my neck, allowing the music to wash over me, infusing me with adrenaline for my impending relief. Three Days Grace blares through the speakers positioned in each corner of the large rectangular building, with a boxing ring at the far end.
Mase and I head straight to the locker room to change our clothes and stow our duffels. I roll my shoulders as we exit, “Ready to bleed?” I ask Mase.
He chuckles, “Are you?”
I grin, “Fuck, yes,” I say as we fist bump and make our way ringside.
Ten minutes later, Mase and I are circling each other in the ring. I smirk at him, flashing my mouthguard. He cringes and I chuckle. The design creeps him out, fangs dripping with blood, as if I’ve just sunk my teeth into someone’s juicy jugular. His mouthguards, however, are somewhat less intimidating than my own.
When he spreads his mouth in a wide smile I drop my head and shake it back and forth, “Superman? Really?” I slur, but it comes out more like, Shluperman? Weely? He just shrugs one of his beefy shoulders, then Trick is yelling at us to get our shit together.
Trick has been training us since we signed up for his first open class when we were twelve. I have nothing but respect for the man. So, I shake off the small talk and focus on sparring.
Mase and I are pretty evenly matched, but he doesn’t have my drive. He doesn’t feel damn near euphoria spreading through his veins with each blow he lands like I do. I swear I almost get hard from the high that fighting brings me. Which is usually why I have one of the ballergirls lined up after our sessions, and definitely after an actual fight.
But I don’t have that now. And I’m not sure Chance could handle me when I’m like this. If she thinks I was intense today, she’s going to get a big surprise when I bring her here.
Two hours later, I’m so sweaty my eyes are burning from the salty liquid as it seeps between my lids when Trick yells out, “Good run boys, pack it up.”
We’d moved on to bag work by then, so I swiped a fresh towel from the rack outside the locker room and pushed inside to shower. The hot water soothes the burning ache in my muscles, relaxing them and me.
I don’t know what I’d do if I had to give this up. There’s no fucking way I can cave. I need it. I need the burn, the euphoria, the exhaustion, that comes from the fight. I’m afraid of what I’m capable of without the release it brings.
When I get home Bella’s beautiful face greets me with a huge smile lifting her cheeks. And I’m once again reminded why I need the release so bad. I need to keep my shit together around her. I can never risk losing it in front of her, I’d never forgive myself is she saw that darker side of me.
“Hey, Princess,” I say, as I get out of my car then make my way over to her, waiting on the front steps for me.
“Georgie made pizza for dinner!” Bells says, bouncing on her toes.
Georgie is our housekeeper slash Bella’s carer, and I’m pretty sure she loves Bells more than our own parents. A knot forms in my stomach with the thought, but I should just be grateful someone else in this world loves her like I do.
My lips curve in a half smile for Bells, “Your favourite, lucky girl.”
She nods, “Yep. The luckiest!”
If only that were true. Bitterness fills my throat and I have to swallow it down. I refuse to let Bells see it. I wink at her then swing my arm over her shoulder as we enter the house, “You sure are, Princess.”
Bells is the only reason I still live here. The thought of leaving her alone in this massive house turns my stomach.