Second Down (Moving the Chains Book 2) (29 page)

While he stares dumbly at me, Mike is the one to answer. “Yeah. He knows.”

“The kicker, though? He’s all fucking torn up about it like it’s his fault!”  Alex laughs in this scary, sort of out of control way, resuming his walk around my room. “Maybe if you hadn’t been fucking believing every lie that comes out of that bitch’s mouth the past few weeks, you’d have been paying a little more attention, Evie. He’s right back to acting and looking like the same fucking hell he was the week after your attack! He hasn’t even once looked at Kerri, or acted like that night wasn’t a mistake. Hell, every time she tries to talk to him, I wonder if he’s not gonna fucking spew chunks all over the goddamn hallway! Haven’t you wondered why no one else is talking about them being together, or what happened that night?”

I shake my head silently, as he stops and glares at me. I feel as small as an ant. I’ve been so, so wrong about everything. Right back to square one, blindly believing everything I’m told.

“It’s because when I pulled drunk Rob out of that car, I fucking threatened the shit out of her, that’s why. I flat out told her that if she breathed a word of it to anyone, that I’d spill how even her lips around his cock didn’t do anything for him. Reminded her that the whole fucking school is behind you two, and that she’d be the bitch in all of this. Cuz she is!”

Alex’s rant is interrupted by my phone ringing. Looking down at the display, my eyes widen and I look between the guys watching me with heated stares. Rob is calling.

Chapter 29

Louder Than Thunder

rob

              ‘Twas the day before the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring...except for our crazy kids that we’d stupidly given catnip before we began our movie marathon. Rookie mistake.

              Evie is snuggled up against me on my bed, her body shaking with silent laughter as Patch leaps atop the television, batting at the movement on the screen. He falls down like a drunken asshole. That analogy stings. Apparently,
I’m
actually a drunken asshole.

I have a lot more empathy for the way Evie feels about her memory loss. It kills me that I don’t remember the night I cheated on my girlfriend. Just the thought of what happened makes me nauseated. It’s a strange thing to need someone else to relate to you something that you’ve experienced. Makes you less trustful of your surroundings, of your own mind. Every minute of every day, you begin to question yourself. What memories are worth our holding onto? What are worth letting go? What about the memories we desperately want to keep, that could be stolen from us?

A small part of me wishes Alex had never told me what happened while I was passed out. Did I do anything willingly before that point? What if, in my inebriated state, I mistook Kerri for Evie? The only person who knows that information is Kerri, but I’m sure as hell not about to ask her. She’d only lie about it, anyway. Just like she lied to Evie. For some reason that I’ll never understand, my girl has forgiven me for my indiscretion.

She showed up at my house a little over a week ago to apologize, stunning me into shocked silence. Followed by rapidly fessing up to everything.

Almost everything.

It took her a few minutes to recover. Literally, she just stood there gaping at me, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, no words escaping. She either thought I was lying, or just couldn’t understand what I was telling her. She finally snapped out of it, coming to some sort of decision in her mind. The only hint I had of her thoughts was that she outright tackled me. I mean, she rushed me, jumped up onto me, and threw her arms and legs around me. My only option was to wrap my own arms around her to keep her from falling. Burying her face into my neck, she just kept murmuring how sorry she was. Over and over.

She
apologized to
me
. I can’t wrap my head around it. She actually said that she felt like a jerk for believing more rumors instead of me. Said she was sorry for not giving me the chance to tell her my side of the story. I like to think it’s because she’s such a forgiving and understanding person. That’s only partly true. I know damn well that she feels guilty about all of it. Like it’s her fault. Evie thinks she broke me.

She’s not entirely wrong.

After we kissed and made up, things still didn’t quite go back to normal. Well, our version of normal, anyway. Evie said she still needed some time to come to terms with everything. I understood that. I did. I’d screwed up so majorly. So, she told me she was going to use the first week of winter break to pick up extra shifts at the diner, and that she still needed a little space. That didn’t really sit well with me. After three weeks of her giving me the cold shoulder, my Evie tank was in desperate need of refueling. Running on empty. How could I complain, though? Especially since she wasn’t going to outright dump me. Still, she noticed my hesitation. Instead of busting my balls over it, she simply reminded me of the list. Number seven, she said. And that was that.

We’re hanging out here today. It’s only the second time I’ve seen her since break started. Evie didn’t want to go anywhere, just chill in my room and watch Christmas movies. We wanted to exchange our gifts to each other away from the eyes of The Moms. We learned that lesson the hard way on Homecoming. Sometimes, privacy is the best policy.

They love us and mean well. They just tend to get a little too excited. Their overly eager behavior only layers on more awkward. Not like we don’t have enough of that to go around.

Evie turns her wrist, her new jewelry glinting in the light. The small smile on her face eases my anxiety a bit. I wasn’t sure she’d accept it, to be honest. Especially after what I’ve done. I was worried she’d think I was trying to buy her off. It’s become obvious over the course of the past few months that Evie doesn’t like a whole lot of attention or for me to spoil her too much. Maybe she doesn’t realize how expensive the white gold bracelet actually was.

I’ll never admit to Evie that Alex helped me pick it out. I had no idea what to get her for Christmas. It’s not like I’ve had much practice at this. His idea was genius, really. Get one of those charm bracelets that are so popular with the girls, and then for every holiday or special occasion, add another charm. Boom. Done.

I’ll also never admit to Alex that I actually put a lot of thought into the charms I chose. Just like I will every time I buy her a new one. Obviously, the first one I picked was a music note. That’s just my Evie. Part of who she is. The sea shell made her laugh. That’s for her naked ocean story. And a heart engraved with the word, ‘Mine.’  That one is both a reminder that she has my heart, and just another little way to mark my territory.

Yeah, I know. I’m a terrible gender equalist.

I would’ve bought more, but I didn’t want to blow my load on the first round. She’s getting another charm for Christmas morning, anyway. No way am I gonna walk into her house empty handed.

Our plans are set for the next few days. Papou asked me to come to Christmas Eve Liturgy with the whole family. Then, I’ll go over to Evie’s house on Christmas morning. Apparently, Papou always makes a special breakfast. Another thing he insisted I partake of. After breakfast, Evie will come back here to meet what little family we have coming over for dinner. The next day, we’re driving out to a big farm to see their light display. Hopefully, afterwards, we’ll maybe take a drive down the back roads.

It all feels so domestic and normal. I should be ecstatic. This is everything I’ve ever wanted with Evie, right? So, why can’t I shake the feeling of dread that’s been hanging over me like a cloud ready to burst for the past month?

I don’t know what it is. Her small admissions that she’s been wanting more from me. Finding her wrapped in Alex’s arms on Thanksgiving. Her words, tears, and fake smile the night before States. Not having her on the field with me after the biggest win of my life. The whole bullshit with Kerri. Her too easy forgiveness and apologies after that.

I haven’t told Cathy what happened at the bonfire. The shame and guilt of what I did overwhelm me to the point of breathlessness, sometimes. She does know about Evie’s not so subtle hints, though. She told me to be honest with her. Well, I did that. Still don’t feel any better about things, though.

It’s like I’m stuck in the pocket, waiting for the play to materialize before my eyes. Only it doesn’t and my feet are frozen to the ground. Not going forward, not losing ground, either. I’m just motionless, waiting for the sack.

“Do you really like it? You’re not just saying you do?”  I can’t help but ask her, again. When it comes to Evie, I never seem to do anything right.

She gazes up at me with what looks strangely enough like adoration in her eyes. Not an expression I’d ever believed I’d see on her face. Especially not for me. “I really do love it. Thank you, Rob.”

She reaches up to plant a firm kiss on my lips. I could kiss this girl forever. I missed her perfect mouth with every fiber of my being during the weeks that she didn’t know about us. I’ll never get enough.

She cups my jaw with her slender hand. “Rob,” she whispers. “I want one more thing.”

I snap open my eyelids, focusing my gaze on her. Evie rarely asks for anything.

“Touch me.”

“I am touching you.”  I’m touching her in all sorts of places. Hell, she’s tucked into my side, my arm wrapped around her.

“No,” her cheeks flush as she looks down to my chest before bringing her eyes back to mine with a determined expression. “I want you to
touch
me, Rob.”

Oh. She wants me to
touch
her.

“Please? Just try, ok?”  She slides her lithe body up to kiss me again, speaking against my lips. “I’m right here. We’re both here. We can fix this.”

If only it were that easy. Still, I can’t deny my girl anything. I have to try. I have to fucking try.

Holding my breath as I move the back of my knuckles up her arm, goosebumps raise along her skin at my soft touch. Knowing I have that kind of power over her is terrifying. I can’t watch what I do to her. I remember not the fantasies I had about owning her body with mine. No. Instead, I remember my fingertips tracing over her as she slept on my lap. Remember how she trusted me. I think of wanting to wait until she asked me to touch her in the softest places that I didn’t dare caress without her consent. She’s giving that to me, now. Asking for it. I don’t ever want her to beg.

Over her collarbone, up her outstretched neck. Her skin is the softest thing I’ve ever touched. Like silk. My hand spreads along her jaw, pulling her face to mine to indulge in a deep, lingering kiss. Our tongues dancing together to give me strength. I let the savory taste of her mouth bolster my confidence. She needs this from me.

Pulling my mouth away from hers, I’m acutely aware of her breath fanning across my chin and neck. The rapid, almost labored puffs of air a reminder that she’s waiting on me. Waiting with anticipation, not fear.

I keep my eyes closed. Gently, I train my open palm back down her throat, reveling in the feel of her pulse against my skin. She’s here. With me. Waiting. Wanting.

Slowly, oh so slowly I travel south. My hand halts over her breastbone, feeling her heartbeat. Feeling her life against my skin. The breast that I couldn’t protect is so close, but so agonizingly far. If she senses my hesitation, she doesn’t show it. I can’t bring myself to open my eyes and gaze down at her face, but her breathing remains the same. She hasn’t pulled away from me.

Forcefully reminding myself that for years, I wanted nothing more than to cup these luscious tits in my hands, I move again. Just as my palm is centered over the hardened nipple that is so plainly evident beneath her shirt and bra, she flinches.

The breath I’d been holding once again, comes rushing out of me. “Evie, I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“It’s ok. I can do this.
We
can do this. Anywhere but there.”  

It sounds far more like she’s trying to convince herself than me. I open my eyes to look for her reassuring gaze, but the beautiful blue that I seek is hidden from my vision. It’s just as well. A tear slides down my cheek as my hand changes direction. Northward, again, smoothing over her slender shoulder and down her back. This is safe. Familiar. My knuckles trace over the well traveled knobs of her spine, down to the small of her back. Up and around to the swell of her hip.

Evie’s pent up breath spreads out over the skin of my face and neck. Taking this as a sign to continue, I flatten my palm against her, gently digging my fingertips into her flesh and pulling her against me more firmly. She anchors her hand on my shoulder, her fingers gripping my muscle. It’s a welcome sensation. Reciprocal.

“Rob,” she breathes out against my lips. Her voice cracks and is laden with unshed tears. Until she tells me to stop, though, I’ll press on. Whatever she wants of me, I’m here to always try and deliver.

“My Evie,” I answer in the same fashion. Moving my hand up to flatten against her taut stomach, this is still safe territory. Nowhere I haven’t been before.

I’m not sure what in my warped mind possesses me to do it, but I don’t linger there long. I don’t go slowly, either. Once again, my hands have a mind of their own. Before another breath can be shared between us, I’m cupping her soft, pliable tit in my hand again. My other hand fists in her hair, crushing her mouth against mine in an effort to stay the painful memories.

She cedes control so easily, my tongue darting in to claim her. To claim what was and is still rightfully mine. Not his. Never his.

So caught up in the way she tastes, the way her tongue feels against my own, I don’t even realize I’m kneading her until she releases a shuddering breath into my mouth. She doesn’t ask me to stop this time, though. Simply holds onto me tighter, granting silent permission.

Somewhere in the cobwebbed recesses of my mind, instinct takes over. I’m not consciously thinking about anything else, succumbing to the feel of this girl that I’ve wanted for so long. She feels
so
good. Better than anything my fucked up mind imagined. I push her gently onto her back, bringing my own body over her much smaller one, caging her in. She wraps her arms around me, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of my head. Pretty sure I moan into her mouth because...yeah. I feel her smile against my lips, but my mind is too far gone to register anything other than the primal need to move against her. Plunging my tongue back inside the soft wet heat of her mouth, I grind my hips down on her involuntarily. My dick twitches in my shorts. It’s been so long that the sensation is almost foreign.

Oh, God. Yes.

I slide against her, again. Harder this time. She rips her mouth away from mine, gasping and throwing her head back.