Chapter Fourteen
MILLER
Every single person at dinner heard the yelling. Even Harley had sobered, her expression pale while Jax yelled at Kins, while she yelled right back.
I’d known them a little over a year. Not once had I ever seen them fight—it used to bother me, the type of relationship they had as brother and sister was scary close. I wasn’t stupid. There was something else there between them. Something that I and everyone else in their lives didn’t get, some bond that was unbreakable.
Part of me was afraid to ask.
Afraid of the answer.
Afraid of what it would make me feel.
I was still pissed at Sanchez, but the more I thought about it, the less my anger felt directed at him and more inward, like I was the dick that decided to have a few meaningless one-night stands because I was too chickenshit to admit my feelings for Kinsey were fueled by more than alcohol and lust.
“Kins.” It was useless trying to calm the woman down. In the ten minutes since we’d been at her apartment she’d grabbed two duffel bags and shoved so many clothes into them that she couldn’t zip them up. A pair of flip-flops went flying by my head, followed by a heel that narrowly missed my right ear. “Did you want me to carry these?”
“Or stab yourself with them,” she said in a sweet voice. “Just try not to get any blood on the cloth part of the shoe, those cost a fortune. Jax bought them for me last year. On second thought, light them on fire, I don’t care.” Her grin wobbled like she was going to burst into tears and then thought better of it.
She heaved another bag into the living room then marched over to the fridge and jerked it open—was she humming?
With a smile she pulled the cap off the milk then chugged the jug, her throat moving slowly as she tilted her head back farther to get all the liquid. Some missed her mouth, dribbling down the sides and into her shirt. Fuck, I couldn’t look away.
“Does a body good, hmm?” I joked.
She slammed the empty jug against the counter and turned her piercing gaze to mine. “His biggest pet peeve is when I finish the milk.”
I crossed my arms, needing something to do so I wouldn’t reach for her and end up with broken fingers. “That would be any athlete’s pet peeve, especially one who likes his protein shakes every morning.”
She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, and I felt my body shake with a savage desire to lick the rest of the milk away from those swollen lips, or at least lick my way down her body to see if any liquid found its way down her curves.
I took a slow, even breath, knowing already that my body was betraying me by swaying toward her, my lips parted.
“Don’t.” Her nostrils flared. A finger was pointed in my direction. “Right now I’m more pissed at him than you—count yourself lucky, Miller.”
Kins’s mouth suddenly broke out into a smile, and with a wicked grin she grabbed a bar stool, crawled up on it, and opened the cupboards above the stove.
“Catch!” She threw a giant box of fruit snacks at my face so I had no option but to put my hands out since I missed the memo about bringing my football helmet. Another box of fruit snacks followed, the kind you get at Costco that could feed an entire lunchroom full of first graders, and then two five-pound bags of M&M’s were careening toward me.
She hopped off the bar stool and wiped her hands on her black leggings. “I suddenly feel so much better.”
I snorted and lifted one of the bags of candy in the air. “Because you got your stash of sugar?”
“Nope.” She winked then whispered, “Because I’ve got his.”
I frowned. “Jax? But he eats salad.” The guy was notorious for being the only one on the team that ate like a rabbit whenever we went out to dinner, no chance in hell would any sort of white processed sugar pass through his trap. The last time a guy brought a Snickers to practice he’d swiped it.
Son of a bitch. Had he eaten it?
“Jax is a liar from the pit of hell, he’s got a sweet tooth the size of his stupid egotistical head—which, FYI, is ginormous, the asshole.”
I was stuck in a position where I felt like I needed to take sides and either burn his jersey in the sink and dance around it while giving Kins a talk about women empowerment, or defend him and whatever the hell he did to piss her off.
Kins licked her lips as tears filled her eyes for the second time that night.
“Shit.” I grabbed her before she could lunge away from me, and the minute her body came into contact with mine, I was hit with such longing I wanted to smack my head against the granite counter. She was sad. I was hugging her. And suddenly I felt better than I had all day?
It made no sense.
“I hate him.” She sniffled.
“No you don’t.” I spoke against her hair, which smelled like coconut and lavender. I gave it another whiff, barely suppressing the groan building in the back of my throat.
Kins glanced up at me with teasing eyes. “Did you just sniff my hair?”
“Would it be creepy as hell if I did?”
Her nose scrunched. “Only because it seems like you did it twice.”
“Maybe I just wanted to make sure.”
An eyebrow arched. “Make sure that your nose works?”
“Nah.” I tilted her chin up. “Maybe I just want to make sure that I don’t ever forget what you smell like, you know, just in case I piss you off even more in the near future, which let’s be honest, the odds aren’t in my favor. I want to remember the way you smell when I’m alone, in my cold, depressing bed, and you’re off drinking all of Jax’s milk and stealing random strangers’ pass codes and house keys.”
Her smile fucking broke my heart, the corners of her lips were met with tearstained cheeks. “You make me sound like a psychopath.”
“If the blood-caked stiletto fits . . .”
She punched me in the shoulder. “I was upset, alright?”
“And you hitting me means you’re happy?”
“I’m getting there. I just . . . I need time to process.”
“I have ears.”
“Yup, two of them, I’ve noticed. You gonna tell me you have a penis next, then whip it out to prove it?”
“Hah!” I barked out a laugh and released her. “Is that your cute way of asking me to show you again? Already miss it, huh?”
“Can’t miss what you never had, Miller. And I don’t really remember having it, you know, all that drunken sex, fuzzy thoughts . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“Bullshit.” I gripped her by the elbow and pulled her flush against my body where she could very well damn feel every single inch of me against her. “I’m calling your bluff.”
“Call it all you want. That doesn’t change the fact that nobody’s seeing anybody’s penis, even if it is . . .” She licked her lips and glanced down, making the damn thing feel the need to meet her halfway. “Impressive.” She made air quotes.
I’d never wanted to strip so badly in my entire life.
“Impressive.” I repeated the word, rolled it around my tongue, nope, not the word I was looking for, I rejected it immediately. “I think you can do better than impressive.”
At least the tears were gone, the reminder that they’d been there in the first place was in her streaked makeup and flashing brown eyes.
It was a moment I would never forget.
The heat from her body pulsed against mine in perfect rhythm, like my heart was straining to match the cadence of hers—it was more than just the feel of her in my arms, or the way she looked up at me with trust I didn’t deserve or earn—it was every single piece of the puzzle fitting, pulsing, tempting.
Kiss her.
Kiss her.
I needed to kiss her.
To suck the sorrow away from that mouth, to press my lips against those tears, to make it all go away.
To make her forget.
Or maybe, to make us both remember.
Why it was so good in the first place.
Why I was still so afraid of what it felt like to have her beneath me, to slide into her while she watched with rapt attention.
Kins bit down on her bottom lip and slowly shook her head. “I should find a hotel, or something.”
“Or something.” I barricaded her against the counter, my body still firmly pressed against hers. “I think I know a place that has an opening.”
Her head tilted, those lips parted enough to suck in whatever air she needed to probably yell at me to stop micromanaging her life like her brother. Instead, she closed her mouth and looked down before saying, “Does this place have HBO?”
“Maybe.”
“Does this place allow equal remote control benefits?”
“Of course . . . I’m not a monster.” One heartbeat, two, I could feel my pulse skyrocketing the longer she was touching me. “You may even get fed.”
“Wow. How fancy.” She smiled up through tear-filled eyes. “It almost sounds too good to be true.”
“Yeah, well, nothing’s ever free.”
“I figured.”
“But you might enjoy the payment.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not sleeping with you, Miller.”
Her cheeks were bright red, her eyes clear, lips pressed together like she was trying not to think about the last time we kissed.
“Did I say anything about sex?”
“No, but—”
“One kiss,” I finished for her.
“One kiss?” Her eyes narrowed. “And then I can crash in your spare bedroom?”
“One kiss,” I repeated. “Harmless.”
We both knew it was a lie.
There was nothing harmless about the way we touched, just like there was nothing harmless about the way she tasted, the addicting flavor of her could be my downfall, and even though I knew that, I still lit the match and waved it around like it wasn’t going to burn the hell out of my hand.
“Okay.” She closed her eyes. “Go ahead.”
Her face was void of emotion, perfect, still. “That’s not what I meant.”
One eye opened then two. “You said one kiss?”
“Right, but you have to kiss me.”
“Miller!” An edge of irritation tinged her voice. “It’s the same thing.”
“If it was the same thing you wouldn’t be arguing with me, would you? But, hey.” I pulled away just enough to put a few inches of space between our bodies. “If you’d rather rent a hotel room, with what I’m assuming is your brother’s money, then . . .” It was a low blow. One that reminded her that as much as she hated her brother in that instant, he was the reason she was able to live and breathe cheerleading like it was her life.
Because she got paid absolute shit.
It was a gamble.
Using her pride against her.
But I was a desperate man.
Desperate for her kiss, her touch, and maybe just desperate to prove to her and to me, that something between us could be good.
Even if it meant it couldn’t be forever.
“Fine.” She bunched the front of my shirt with her right hand, and stood up on her tiptoes. I let her pull me down to her level while her head descended. I wanted to meet her halfway.
But meeting her halfway would ruin the point.
So I nailed my giant feet to the floor and waited for the first brush of her lips.
In a hypnotic, heart-twisting movement, her mouth fused against mine, her lips slowed.
One step.
Two.
Her legs tangled with mine, her hips bumping against my thighs as I drew a powerful breath in through her lungs, through her mouth, making it mine. Claiming the air, the space between our bodies.
Heat radiated between us as she slowly slid her hand up my chest and wrapped it around my neck, her other hand joining her as she hung on to my body. I lifted her by the ass and set her on the countertop, never once pulling away from her lips, but drawing each kiss from her mouth like a drug, just one more hit, and then another.
Words that were said between us incinerated—going up in smoke as our kiss intensified, as the need tripled. I kissed down the slender column of her throat, taking my time to taste her before claiming her lips again.
Her tongue explored my mouth, slowly, tenderly before she pulled back and gripped my biceps, digging her fingers into my skin just hard enough to make me stop my assault of her mouth.
“One kiss,” she repeated, her voice hoarse.
“That was one kiss,” I corrected.
“How do you figure?”
I tucked her hair behind her ears, she gave a little shudder. “Because my mouth never left you once.”
And even though I wanted to pull her into my arms again, kiss the hell out of her, and get her naked.
I didn’t.
I took a step back, and then another before turning around and grabbing her duffel bags. “We should get going.”
“Right.” She slid off the counter, pressed a hand to her flushed face, and then did a full circle before picking up the last bag and the pair of flip-flops she’d thrown at my face. “Thanks, for this . . .”
“This is what friends do.”
I don’t know why I said it.
Why I drew that damn line in the sand again.
Maybe it was self-preservation.
Or just my mind protecting every remaining piece of my heart.
Because for those few brief minutes, I could have sworn, she wasn’t just kissing me, she was sucking the hurt away, the pain, and forcing me to forget all the reasons I helped send her out of the country in the first place.
And all the reasons that I’d do it again.
Because I was still selfish.
And when you’re selfish, you focus on the only thing you can think of that can blind you to others’ pain.
Your own.