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THIRTEEN

BECCA

I haven’t seen Eli since Wednesday. Coach Andrews has had me in the office, helping him prepare for next week’s preseason, so our “basketball lessons” have been cut prematurely. I’m relieved. Eli makes me want to know him, and that is not something I’ll entertain.

Emotional connections are fleeting. They whisper like the devil in your ear, telling you to take a bite of apple, and I have no interest in falling for lies. Better to keep our interaction in public places where entire teams surround us.

I’m thankful it’s Friday night, and I don’t have to worry about running into him at all. I’m finally dragging Jeremy to a club; payment for introducing him to Eli before the season starts. My plan is to relieve this tension that’s been twisting inside me since the moment I face-planted into Eli’s chest.

When Jeremy and I walk inside, we head straight to the bar. The music is loud and the crowd is thick, so it’s useless to try and hold a conversation. I order us a round of tequila shots, we throw them back and then head to the dance floor.

I’m not much of a dancer, but the liquor loosens my limbs enough to move with the bass as it thumps. I should probably care that Jeremy’s up against my back since it’s not like I can have him take me home, but I’m having too much fun to tell him to stop, so instead, I reach my arms back and around his neck, swinging my hips harder.

His head dips. “If I were into girls, you’d be giving me a hell of a show right now.”

I smirk. “Just doin’ my duty of bein’ your beard.”

He chuckles, his hands wrapping around my hips, helping us move to the beat. My eyes scan the area, and suddenly my body jerks out of rhythm, heart stuttering in my chest.

Eli and Connor are standing across the room. Eli’s leaning against the bar, his attention on some strawberry-blond girl next to him. My stomach squeezes tight when she throws her head back, laughing at something he said.

He ain’t that funny.

My movements are out of sync with Jeremy’s, but he doesn’t notice. There’s an unfamiliar feeling rising inside me. I can’t stand Eli giving that girl his attention. I know how it feels to have those baby blues locked on you like you’re the only thing that matters, and irritation licks up my spine that someone else is getting to feel it, and then that irritation doubles when I realize I’m getting jealous of Eli .

But for the life of me, I can’t look away.

Like he can sense my stare, his gaze searches the room until it locks with mine, eyes widening as they burn a trail along my body.

The girl next to him says something, but he pays her no mind.

My stomach flutters.

Eli’s posture stiffens as he spots Jeremy, his gaze growing cold. The ice in his eyes does nothing but spark a fire in mine. My body moves with intent, wanting, needing him to feel the same stifling grip that chokes my insides knowing he’s here with someone else.

Knowing I shouldn’t give a damn.

Jeremy plays his part without realizing, spinning me around, dipping us down and bringing our bodies flush as we rise back up. I glance over my shoulder, unable to keep my stare away, but Eli’s not looking anymore. His focus is back on the strawberry-blond.

The fire sizzles out, and I’m left feeling cold.

I pull out of Jeremy’s arms, motioning to the bar, and when I get there, I order a shot, the burn helping to numb the ache in my chest. Slamming the empty glass on the countertop, I head down a long hallway to find the ladies’ room. There’s no line, which is surprising, since it’s a one-person bathroom. I’ve just turned around to close the door when a hand slips between the crack and shoves it open. I gasp, the force pushing me away.

Eli stalks into the small room and reaches behind him, flipping the lock.

“This is the ladies’ room, asshole.”

His mouth quirks, but he doesn’t speak, just continues his trek toward me.

My ass bumps the sink.

Eli steps into me, his chest rubbing against my braless nipples through the thin material of my dress. Thick arms encase me, those big hands grabbing on to the edge of the counter. Leaning in, his nose trails down the length of my neck, and I swear he’s inhaling my scent. My entire body clenches, and a knot forms in my stomach.

“What-what are you doin’?”

“Do you enjoy torturing me, Rebecca?” His voice is low. It rumbles against my skin and sends goose bumps blazing down my body.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do.”

Each breath is a tease, his lips skimming my skin on every exhale. A moan slips out, unbidden.

His arms flex. “Does it feel this way with him?”

“What way?” My stomach rises and drops so fast, it makes me lose my breath.

“Like I’ll die if I can’t touch you.”

My heart quickens, blood singing through my veins, begging me to just give in .

I push into his body, surrendering to the feeling. “So touch me.”

His head shakes against me, his jaw tense. “You aren’t mine to touch.”

“I’m not Jeremy’s either.”

His head snaps back.

“What about that girl you’re with?” I ask.

“Just a friend.”

My fingers trace the veins in his forearms as I slide my hands up, reaching to cup his face in my palms. “Eli. Touch me.”

His nostrils flare, his body rigid against mine.

I wait but he doesn’t make a move.

My stomach sinks at the rejection and I take a step away, but I don’t get far because his arms leap from the sink, wrapping around my waist and jerking me against him. My breath whooshes out of me, every nerve ending lit up from his touch. I palm his jaw, and his arms tense around me when he lifts me off the ground, bringing my face to his.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he growls as our lips meet.

I should care that this is happening. I should stop it. But I don’t. The memory of his taste has been all I’ve thought of since the moment it hit my tongue.

I’ll be damned if I give it up again.