For the first time last night, we shared a bed. I wanted to wake up with her in my arms. Wanted to make love to her first thing.
I press kisses to her back, and she sighs happily. “I could so get used to this.”
Me too, but I don’t say it out loud. The way she has me wrapped up in knots is terrifying. The way I feel for her is nothing like I’ve ever experienced. And then there was yesterday on the boat.
Not once in my life have I ever considered having unprotected sex, but I had to feel her, all of her. Sliding into her uncovered was like sliding into heaven, and as cheesy as it sounds, I saw stars, fireworks.
I roll her onto her back and position my body over hers. “Morning.”
She blinks sleepily. “Morning.”
“What do you say we stay in bed all day?”
“I could think of worse things.” She wraps her legs around my waist and drags me to her, but then she stills. “Did you hear that?”
“What?”
She untangles herself from the sheets and from my arms and runs to the window. “Fuck. Crap. Shit. It’s Chelsea and Wesley.”
“Don’t say that.” I join her by the window and see my sister jumping out of a pickup. My morning-wood instantly deflates. “What are they doing here? Did she call or text?”
Taylor shakes her head. “No, nothing.” Her brow furrows, and I can tell she’s pissed off. She throws on a pair of shorts and a hooded sweatshirt. “I’ll go stall them. Let them know you’re here, but I’m sure she’s already spotted your car. Make it look like you were in the bathroom or something and not my room.”
Flustered, Taylor runs out of the bedroom and downstairs. The front door creaks open, and I go back to the window, hiding behind the lace curtains. Since there’s no air con in the cabin, the window is always cracked to allow air to circulate, which allows me to hear Taylor’s conversation with my sister.
“Chelsea,” she says, acting surprised. “Wow! What are you doing here?”
“I missed you so much,” she says, flinging her arms around Taylor. “Instead of staying at the campgrounds like we usually do before it all kicks off, we thought we’d come keep you company for a few days, but it looks like you already have company.” Chelsea jerks her thumb towards my car.
“Tell me about it,” she says with a dramatic groan. He just showed up and refused to leave. So much for some peace and quiet.”
“He’s not annoying you, is he?”
“He’s your brother, of course he is.” They both laugh at that, and I can’t help but feel a small stab in my heart. I know Taylor can’t mutter a word of what we’ve been up to, but she doesn’t have to go for the jugular and make it sound like I’m offending her by breathing. Because all my clothes are in the downstairs bedroom, I go into the bathroom and wrap a towel around myself.
To make it look like I’ve showered, I put my head under the faucet to wet my hair and splash my face with water.
I make my way downstairs and step outside into the blinding sunlight. When Chelsea sees me, she laughs and says, “What the fuck are you doing here? I don’t get to see you for months, and then I get to see you twice in the space of a week. What gives?”
“Nice to see you, too, sis.” I nod in Wesley’s direction. “Hey, man.”
He holds out his hand, and I grab it. “Welcome to the cabin, but I’ve heard you’ve been here before.”
Chelsea raises an eyebrow and glares at Taylor. “Have you been telling stories?”
“No,” she says through gritted teeth and stares at me as if to say, shut the fuck up. “I just told your brother about the parties we used to have up here and how Wesley showed up last year.”
“Yeah, I kind of invited him,” Chelsea admits, sheepishly. “You know how cray-cray dad gets. So, this is bizarre, to say the least.” She gestures her hand between Taylor and me. “How are you two still alive?”
Taylor glances at me and crosses her arms. “It’s been a challenge, but we’ve managed not to kill one another…yet.”
“What have you been doing to pass the time?” she asks both of us.
“I’ve been reading, and your brother’s been like hiking and stuff. We’ve been keeping out of each other’s way.”
“I hiked to the waterfall a few days ago,” I say, giving Taylor a secret wink. “It was something else.”
“I haven’t been there since we were kids,” Chelsea comments. “I’m surprised you remembered the way.”
“How come you never brought me there?” Taylor asks Chelsea.
“You don’t much like hiking, bugs, or snakes. Of which there are many on the hike to the waterfall. But since you haven’t been there, and don’t freak out as much over creepy crawlies, if you want we can all go later.”
I smother a laugh and end up spluttering.
Chelsea gives me a strange look. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just swallowed the wrong way.”
Once again, Taylor glares at me. Teasing her while Chelsea is here will be a hell of a lot of fun.
“How long are you staying for?” I ask.
Chelsea nudges my arm. “Trying to get rid of me already?”
“Just want to know how much time I get to spend with my baby sister.”
“Yeah, right. We leave tomorrow afternoon. We have to make sure we’re ready for the new campers on Monday. I know what we should do,” she says with a clap of her hands. “We should take the boat out and do some fishing like we used to do when we were kids.”
“I went out yesterday. Kind of sucked. I only got a few bites.”
“Ugh. It sucked? Really?”
“Don’t think I’ve ever had a suckier time on the lake,” I add.
“Maybe they didn’t stock the lake this year.”
“Don’t get me wrong.” I keep my eye on Taylor’s thunderous and flushed face. “It was fun in its own way but still sucked.”
If looks could kill… With the daggers Taylor is throwing my way, I’m lucky I’m not dead. But I can’t help it, she’s so easy to get a rise out of.
Chelsea shrugs. “I guess we’ll have to find something else to do.”
“Take Wesley on a tour. Show him all the crazy stuff we used to get up to as kids.”
“But be careful,” Taylor warns. “I was climbing on the rocks the day after I got here and saw a snake. I think it was a copperhead, or in the copperhead family.”
“Taylor, it wasn’t a copperhead,” I say, “it was a harmless water snake sunning itself.”
“Water snake or not,” Taylor continues, “be careful.”
“She’s exaggerating. You don’t need to be any more careful than usual.”
“Woah,” Chelsea says, holding up her hands. “You two are bickering like an old married couple. You’ve spent too much time cooped up in this place. Thank God we came if only to save you from each other.”
“Beer anyone?” I ask, hoping to change the subject.
Wesley looks interested, but Chelsea looks at me like I’ve grown a unicorn horn. “It’s not even lunchtime.”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” I say with a shrug.
“I’ll take a beer,” Wesley says.
“I knew I liked you.” I go inside, and before I grab a beer, I also throw on some shorts. When I go outside with the cold six-pack, I pick up a football and look at Wesley. “Wanna throw for a while, man?”
“You sure you’re up for it?” He asks, nodding towards my shoulder.
“As long as I don’t do anything too crazy, I can manage. Plus, it’ll be good to throw for a while.”
I spiral the ball towards Wesley who catches it with ease. I grit my teeth and do my best not to show how much my shoulder fucking hurts. I put it down to stiffness from not training or throwing a ball for the past week.
The girls go inside, leaving us alone. “I hear you’re my dad’s new star quarterback.” There’s no malice in my words, just matter of fact.
“Yeah,” he says, spiraling the ball back. “He took a chance on me when he didn’t have to.”
“How so?”
“I got in some trouble at my old school. I wasn’t focused. Too cocky and then my sister- she got into something she couldn’t get out of. Helping her out meant I couldn’t pay my tuition.
“Your dad looks out for me and keeps me on the straight and narrow. He’s a great guy and mentor.”
“Sure,” I say wanting to drop the subject. It seems everybody thinks my dad’s the cool man on campus. No one sees his true colors but me.
“You mind if I ask you something?” Wesley holds the ball in his hands and comes up to me.
“Shoot.”
“I’ve heard a few rumors about you using steroids. I call bullshit but wanted to let you know what’s being said.”
Fury burns in my veins. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Around.”
“It’s all a misunderstanding. Have you told Chelsea?”
“Nah. I don’t gossip like a girl, and I don’t listen to rumors.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Cool,” Wesley says and tosses me the ball.
So much for Coach Davis keeping a lid on it.
***
Later after Chelsea and I take Wesley fishing, we sit by the smoldering firepit and make hobo packets filled with fish, potatoes, onions, and carrots.
For a cheerleader, my sister isn’t squeamish about catching fish and then gutting them.
I glance over at Taylor, at the way the fire shines in her eyes, and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted her as much as I do at this moment, but I can’t have her. I have to wait until Chelsea and Wesley go back to camp. It’s a wonder they can’t guess what I’m feeling or see how much I want Taylor when I look at her.
“Have you talked to your mom?” Chelsea asks Taylor, who’s busily putting hot coals on top of the hobo packets.
“She called like three times after they landed and has sent me thousands of texts saying they’re having a good time. She, ah, also said she was pretty nauseous.”
“Did she eat something that made her ill?” Chelsea asks.
“Not quite. I think the kind of illness she has will cure itself in nine months or so.”
“No! No way. Are you saying your mom is pregnant?” Chelsea flops down on her Adirondack chair and gapes at Taylor.
“Nah. I’m just being stupid. My mom isn’t pregnant. Is she?”
“Come to think of it,” Chelsea says before taking a swig of beer. “I did notice she didn’t drink at all during the rehearsal or wedding reception.”
“And she’s been exhausted,” Taylor adds. “You guys know my mom. She never gets tired, and her workout routine comes before everything else. She’s been taking it real easy. I mean, she’s only forty. Still young enough to have kids. Your dad’s only forty-five.”
Chelsea gets a dreamy look on her face. The one all girls get when they talk about babies. She clasps Wesley’s hand, and she looks like she’s about to pee her pants. “How awesome would it be if they had a baby. If she’s, say, three months pregnant, the baby would be due in—” she counts the months on her fingers, “—December. Oh, my God. A Christmas baby. I’d be a big sister. I’ve always wanted to be a big sister.”
“Do you think they could be?” Taylor asks, looking unsure.
“I have to find out right now,” Chelsea says, sliding her phone from the pocket of her cut-offs.
“You can’t call them, Chels,” Taylor says sounding panicked. “If they’re expecting a baby, they’ll tell us in their own time.”
“Spoilsport.” Chelsea puts her phone away and sticks out her tongue.
“Maybe there’s a perfectly good explanation.” Taylor grabs a pair of tongs and places more hot coals on top of the hobo pockets while she speaks. “She could have been nervous coming up to the wedding, and maybe she didn’t want to drink because she wanted to remember everything on her wedding day. I don’t want to get my hopes up only to have them come crashing down.”
“I for one hope she is,” Chelsea declares. “A baby will cement our family. It’d be so awesome.”
Yeah, how awesome to have to explain to a kid that your brother and sister are sleeping with each other. Good thing it’s only for a few weeks, right?
After dinner, we sit by the fire talking about nothing. At around midnight, everyone else goes inside, but I stay outside a few minutes longer to finish my beer and douse the fire.
If Taylor’s mom is pregnant, I hope it’s a girl because my dad doesn’t need another boy to harass, but maybe if it is a boy, he’ll be the one who can fulfill dad’s dreams.
I make a move to go inside, but before I open the screen door, I hear the girls chatting in the kitchen. When my name comes up in their conversation, I wait before going inside. It’s wrong to eavesdrop, but I want to hear what they’re saying about me.
“You know what’s up with Aaron?” I hear Chelsea ask Taylor.
“Can’t say I noticed anything. He seems like his normal, grumpy self to me,” Taylor replies. “When we talked about the baby, he was, I dunno. Do you think he’s jealous? He’s got some really big daddy issues. And he’s always on his phone. Every time he thinks I’ll overhear his conversation, he hangs up. I know his phone calls are none of my business, but it just seems odd. You don’t think he’s in any kind of trouble. Do you?”
“I don’t think so, but what do I know,” Chelsea says. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow, but even if he is in trouble, he’s a big boy and can get himself out of it.”
“I guess you’re right. I mean I don’t care. His life is his life to live. Besides, it’s not like we’re going to see much of him after he goes back to his real life. Even if my mom does have a baby, Aaron won’t be around to be part of the baby’s life.”
Chelsea sighs. “I’m kind of hoping this is the start of him coming home. His shoulder’s in pieces. I see the way he winces every time he moves it a certain way. I don’t know if he’ll ever play again, and I know that’s eating him up even though he pretends it’s not.”
“Yeah maybe that’s what’s bugging him,” Taylor says.
I hear Chelsea yawn. “I have a hot man waiting for me upstairs. See you in the morning.”
“Night,” Taylor says.
I go back to my chair by the fire and stew over what I just heard. I guess I now know what Taylor really thinks about me. She thinks of me as a spoiled brat who’s jealous of an unborn baby. And to think I was falling for her. I knew we couldn’t have much, but I thought we could have—had—something. More fool me.
From now on, as long as I’m at the cabin, the only thing I’ll worry about is my dick. As far as she’ll know nothing has changed. Only it has. Every single thing has changed.
***
I’m still by the fire pit in the wee hours of the morning when Taylor comes out with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
“Aren’t you coming inside?”
“I’m good out here thanks.”
“What’s up with you?”
“Who, me, Mr. Jealous?” I wasn’t going to say a word, but it’s been eating me up. How could she think so little of me?
“What?” she asks looking genuinely confused.
“I overheard your conversation with my sister earlier. I didn’t expect you to be my cheerleader, but I also didn’t expect you to talk about me with such disdain and disgust. It’s like you hate me. Like I make you ill.”
She takes a defensive stance and tilts her head slightly to the left. “What do you want me to do? Sit on your lap and fuck you in front of your sister and her fiancé? Show them what we’ve been doing?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I want,” I deadpan. “I want you to treat me like a regular person and not like something you scraped off the bottom of your shoe.”
“Grow up, Aaron. I’m sorry your feelings were hurt because you overheard a conversation not meant for your ears. Remember what I said about pity parties? Pull on your big boy pants.” She steps closer. “You think when I look at you I don’t want you? You think I don’t want to scream from the rooftops that I’ve fallen hard for you. I am so head over heels crazy about you, and that scares me. Terrifies me.”
My jaw tightens, and I know in my heart everything she’s said is the truth because I feel the same. “Come here,” I say reaching out my hand. She takes it, and I pull her into my lap where I kiss her slowly.
I want to tell her how I feel, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid to open up. I’m afraid to let her see the real me. I’m scared. Telling her she’s fucking sexy and beautiful isn’t the same as telling her how much I genuinely care for her. I might not be able to tell her, but I can show her.
“Straddle me,” I say, “get on top of me.”
She glances over her shoulder. “What if they wake up?”
“They won’t,” I promise. “They can’t hear anything in the backroom.
She drops her blanket on the ground, straddles my lap and pushes her underwear to one side.
Reaching down, I unzip my shorts and take out my cock. She presses herself up against me, and I hiss out a breath.
I don’t slide into her, not yet, instead, I cup her cheeks in my palms and kiss her slowly, devouring her, showing her how I feel.
Our tongues fight and play, each seeking dominance. Until hers surrenders and retreats. I move my hands under her vest and cup her heavy breasts, thumbing her taut nipples.
“Feels so good,” she whispers.
She drapes her legs over the sides of the chair, and I guide my throbbing cock into her wet heat. No condom. Nothing between us.
I grip her waist and move her up and down in a slow, steady torturous speed. Both of us keep our eyes focused on one another. Neither of us blinking. Neither of us talking. We’re simply watching, drinking each other in.
There’s nothing crazy about what we’re doing, nothing out of the ordinary. We’re just two people fucking.
A moan sounds in her throat, and she twists her hips, one of the telltale signs that her orgasm is seconds away.
Her inner muscles tighten, clamping down on my cock, holding me tight. She moves up and down faster, frantic, more demanding. Reaching between us, I crush my fingers against her clit.
“You’re so fucking sexy. So fucking beautiful,” I whisper against her neck. “Do you want me to come inside you so you can feel my cum drip from your pussy?”
“I want something else. I want you to come in my mouth. I want to taste you, just like you tasted me when I came.” With her eyes still locked on mine, she lifts herself off my cock and gets down on her knees between my legs.
“I’ve dreamed about this,” she says, grabbing my dick. “And this time, don’t even think about stopping me halfway through.” She slowly strokes up and down, and then wraps her lips around me, sending me to a place I’ve never been before.
In a matter of seconds of her working me, my balls draw up, and I bite back a groan. I grab her hair and control her speed.
“I’m going to come, baby,” I growl. “I’m going to explode. Drink me down.” She takes me deep, allowing me to control the pressure. Allowing me to control the speed. I don’t want to be too rough, but my dick demands it.
I hold onto the side of her head, and before I can do anything to stop it, my cum shoots into her mouth.
She moans and groans, drinking all of me down, and when she’s sucked me dry, I pull her onto my knees and kiss her tasting both of us on her lips.
We sit in one another’s arms until the sun breaks the horizon. “We need to go inside before Wesley and Chelsea wake up.”
“I know,” she says standing and stretching. “But tonight. We’re staying awake all night and fucking.”
“Without a doubt,” I say, giving her one last kiss before she disappears inside. I’m in so much trouble, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get out of it.
Chelsea and Taylor hug for the hundredth time and act like they’re never going to see one another again.
My sister comes over and gives me one more hug. “Keep her safe, big brother.”
“I’ll do my best,” I say and laugh before pulling her into my arms. “But you know Taylor, she can look after herself.”
“I know she can. Please don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t. Promise. And make sure you come up and see my games this year. I miss having you cheering me on.” I don’t add, that’s if I play this year or ever play again.
“I’ll come to as many as I can, but you know how crazy my cheer schedule gets.”
My phone rings and I glance at it. Coach Davis. The call I’ve been expecting and dreading since I deleted his email. “I gotta take this,” I say, and walk towards the lake.
“See you soon,” she calls and gets into the car.
Before I pick up, I make sure no one’s in earshot. “Hey, Coach,” I say.
“Thompson,” he says then pauses, and that pause tells me everything I already know. “Just give it to me, Coach.”
“It pains me to say this, but there’s nothing I can do. What with your shoulder and the steroids, you’re off the team. You’re going to be called up for a formal hearing. You didn’t hear this from me, but you’re looking at a four-year suspension.”
Not trusting myself to speak, I swallow hard. My whole world implodes. Everything I was, am, and could be is gone.
“Talk to me, Thompson.”
“You know I’m innocent, Coach. You know I didn’t knowingly take Norandrolone. What can I do to make this right?”
“There’s not much you can do. Even if you could prove your innocence, there’s too much in your body. Find the doctor and have him explain why he gave you a banned substance. Other than that, I don’t know. There are some things you can try to help get it out of your system faster.”
“Tell me I’ll do anything,” I say, my voice catching.
“Diet and exercise, sweating it out in saunas and through exercise. Or more extreme lengths like the removal of any fatty deposits in your body. If you can get the steroid below a certain level, you may be in with a chance of playing again. But then there’s your shoulder. You’re refusing surgery, so I can’t help you there. You were one hell of a player, Son.”
The way he says it in past tense leaves my blood cold.
“Just giving you a heads up, the hearing is scheduled for two weeks’ time. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it getting in the papers and online. I’ve got your back and will stand by you but be prepared for what’s coming your way.”
“Thanks, Coach.” I hang up. I need to take my anger out on something—anything. I pick up a rusted axe leaning against an old tree and start chopping wood, ignoring the sharp, unrelenting pain in my shoulder.
Unless the private investigator can track down the doctor, or Kayden can, I’m screwed. If not, there’s nothing I can do to save my ass.
Sweat streams down my body. I pull off my t-shirt and wipe it over my forehead, and then I keep chopping, but it does nothing to cool down my fury.
“Hey there, lumberjack,” I hear Taylor say. “There’s enough wood to last a year.” She hands me a glass of iced tea, which I gratefully accept.
“Want to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“The phone call.”
“Nope.” I down the iced tea and then hand her back the glass.
“You’d rather keep killing trees than tell me what’s going on?”
“Yup.”
“Are we good?
“We’re good?”
“Is this about us?”
“It’s not all about you Taylor. I know you like to think the world revolves around you, but it doesn’t.” Taking it out on her is wrong, I know that, but I’ve got about a day, if that, before the shit hits the fan. About a day before my family, my friends and everyone else I know realize they were right. I’m a loser.
I’ve lost everything.
Lost my career.
Lost my team, hell, I’d probably even lose Taylor if she was mine in the first place.
“Whatever’s up your ass, don’t take it out on me. I’m going for a hike.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” I say, biting out each word.
“Jerk.” She storms away, and when she’s out of sight, I take out my phone and call Kayden. When he picks up, I say, “Have you heard?”
“Haven’t heard a thing,” he replies. “What’s up?”
“I’m off the team.” Saying it out loud, sends shockwaves racing through my body. “I’ve got about one day before the news gets out. You’ve got to help me find that doctor. I have a PI working on it, but he’s been no help.”
“Dude,” he says sounding surprised. “You didn’t tell me you’d hired an investigator. When? I thought we were friends. You usually tell me everything.”
“I had to do something. I’m not letting some quack ruin my life. Have you been able to find anything?”
“I been looking, but I’ve found nothing. Sorry,” Kayden says, “I’ve gotta go. Don’t do anything stupid.” Why does that last statement sound like a warning? “Actually, before you go, give me the PI’s name, and I’ll have my buddy check him out. He’s a cop with the state police in Cali.”
“Kevin Lane. He’s based in Los Angeles. I just need some answers. I’ll do whatever it takes to find the son of a bitch who shot me full of steroids. He’s ruined my reputation and career. Do what you can to help me out. I’m desperate.”
“You got it,” he says and then hangs up.
I keep chopping for about an hour and debate going to find Taylor and explaining what happened--what’s happening--but then my phone rings again. A glance at the screen tells me it’s the private eye.
“Tell me you have some good news.”
“It may be something or nothing,” he says, “but I think your guy is working out of a makeshift office in Orange County. I got a tip-off.”
Adrenaline bubbles up inside me. “Send me the address. I’m going there.”
“That might not be wise. Let me go first. I’ll make an appointment.”
“There’s no time.”
“Alright, but I want you to know I think you’re making a mistake.”
“Noted.”
As soon as I hang up, my phone pings with an address. I’ll have to drive to the airport, about two hours away and book a last-minute flight. I’ll do what I have to, even if that means dragging the son of a bitch to UCLA by his hair and forcing him to tell Coach Davis everything.
Taylor isn’t back from wherever she stormed off to, and I’m too fired up to find a pen and a piece of paper to write a note to tell her I’m leaving, I’ll text her from the road.
I grab my clothes and keys from the cabin and jump into the car. This shit ends today. One way or another, I’ll get an explanation.
As soon as I get in the car, I call Kayden to tell him the good news, but it goes to voicemail, so I leave a message. “Dude, I might know where the doctor is. My PI called. If this doesn’t pan out, I’m going to go to the police. Call me back.”