Page 42

AVERY

T he air between us shifts, growing charged, the years of longing and loneliness and lost time stretching between us like a bowstring.

Damon reaches out and brushes his thumb across my cheek, and I lean into his touch like a puppy seeking pets. “We should play again,” I murmur, because I’m not yet done asking questions. There’s so much more to know. To discover.

He nods, swallowing as I hold out my fist, letting him call it out only to win. “Can you ever forgive me?” I ask, before I can overthink it. Because I need to know, unsure of whether there’s a way forward if he can’t.

“The fact that I’m here means I already have,” he says, his voice soft as his gaze drops to my mouth.

“Enough to truly give me another chance?” I whisper.

His throat bobs and with it, his gaze shifts back up to mine, the green brightening like emeralds.

“I can’t say I’m not scared, that I don’t .

. . have reservations or that I’m not worried I might get hurt again.

If I did, I’d be lying. But the one thing that’s become crystal clear to me since you’ve returned is how much I want you, Avery.

I’ve always wanted you, and some things are worth the risk.

You’re one of them.” He cups my face in his hands, brushing my cheekbones with his thumbs, steadying me with his gaze.

With a jagged sigh, I lean forward and press my forehead to his, breathing in the masculine scent of him as something akin to relief paints the walls of my heart.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.

I don’t want to just go back to the way things were,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.

“We were kids then. We’re different now.

We’ve grown. And, yeah, I still want the magic of us, but I want something better, something even stronger. ”

“What if we mess it up again?” he says, his voice breaking over the words.

My chest aches with the emotion crackling in his voice. “And what if we don’t?”

The question hangs between us, fragile and hopeful, in the moments before my hands find his wrists. I grab hold of him, afraid he’ll pull away. I never want to let him go again.

“I’m terrified,” he whispers against my lips, “of how much I still feel for you. Of what your father will do when he finds out. What might happen if the media finds out.”

“I won’t leave you again.”

“Promise?” he whispers against my lips.

“I prom–” His mouth swallows my oath, his lips soft and hungry as they devour me with an urgency that makes my head spin.

I melt into him, every single nerve in my body exploding at the sensation of his touch.

He tilts his head, angling me closer while my hands slide up his arms, until I’m gripping his shoulders as his tongue seeks entrance. I acquiesce, parting my lips, and the feel of his tongue against mine sends a burst of heat racing down my spine.

A primal sound vibrates through Damon’s chest and into mine before his hands leave my face, wrapping around my waist, and pulling me onto his lap.

I straddle him, my body flush with his. Our hearts beat a frantic melody as the hard planes of his body meet the soft curves of mine, and I arch into him, desperate to eliminate any remaining space between us.

“Avery,” he breathes against my mouth, and I’ve never loved the sound of my name so much. It’s half prayer, half plea as it slips from his lips.

His fingers tangle in my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss, until I can taste the mint of his toothpaste, the smell the soap on his skin, and that indiscernible masculine scent that’s uniquely Damon.

His hands move to my hips, gripping tightly as if he’s afraid I might disappear. So, I press closer, my fingers threading through his hair. I tug gently in the way I remember he likes, pleased when it elicits a small groan.

Years of separation melt away as his hands explore, sliding over the thin material of my sleep shirt, his palms burning through the silk. His mouth tastes, teeth nipping over my throat, my ear, my clavicle.

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper against his lips when they return to mine. “Every day. Every minute.”

“God, I tried so hard to forget you,” he confesses, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes, and the vulnerability there steals my breath. “But I failed, and now I’ve never been more damn glad.”

With a grunt, I bite his lower lip, then shift until I’m on my back, fisting the front of his shirt and taking him with me.

The mattress dips with our weight as he settles over me, his hands finding the sliver of exposed skin above the waistband of my pants before they slip beneath the hem of my shirt, sliding over my abdomen to touch bare skin.

His fingers scorch a fire in their wake stopping just shy of my breast. I gasp against his mouth and arch into his touch, encouraging him as he finally slides his calloused palm over my stiffened peak.

A whimper escapes my lips as his thumb ghosts across my nipple, sending a ball of heat between my legs.

We’re teenagers again, finding each other for the first time, but also adults who understand the gravity of what we’re doing, what we’re choosing. And I choose him?all of him.

My body remembers him, even after all these years. Every touch, every caress is familiar yet brand-new.

“Damon, please,” I breathe, his name both a plea and a promise on my lips.

He pauses, lifting his head to look at me, his eyes hooded. “Are you sure?”

Instead of answering with words, I prop myself up on my elbows and reach for the hem of my shirt, tugging it over my head and tossing it aside while his eyes roam hungrily over me, drinking me in. “Fuck, you’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

My cheeks warm at his praise, and goose bumps dance over my skin. But I don’t shy away from his gaze. Instead, I reach for him, tugging at his shirt. “Your turn.”

He reaches for the neck of his T-shirt, tugging it over his head in one swift movement, and revealing a chest that’s carved from stone?chiseled to perfection.

He’s changed since we were teenagers; his body is more defined, stronger, but the constellation of freckles on his left shoulder is exactly as I remember them.

Leaning forward, I slide my hands over the newly exposed skin, watching him watch me as I press a kiss to Orion. I trace my fingers over them in awe. “They’re still here,” I whisper.

“What?”

“Orion’s Belt.” I touch each freckle in reverence, thinking of how many times I’d done it before, feeling a rush of tenderness mingling with the desire.

His expression softens. “I remember you said they were your map to find your way back to me if you ever got lost.”

Something cracks open inside my chest. “I did get lost, didn’t I?” I whisper.

Damon lowers his forehead against mine as the delicious weight of him presses me into the mattress, scorching me from head to my toe. “I think maybe we both were lost for a while. But we’re here now. And that’s all that matters.”

His lips find mine again, gentler this time, the urgency tempered by something deeper, something that makes tears prick at the corners of my eyes. Something that makes my heart soar.

His mouth travels down my neck, tasting me as I tilt my head to give him better access. I sigh when he places an open-mouthed kiss along my collarbone. I gasp when his hands find the waistband of my pajama pants.

“Tell me what you want,” he says as the heat of his breath whispers across my skin.

“You,” I say, arching into him. “Just you.”

I lift my hips, and he slides them off, our movements growing urgent, desperate.

“Too many clothes,” I mutter against his mouth, shoving his joggers down.

He kicks them off, along with his boxer briefs before he reaches inside the pocket of his discarded pants, retrieving a little foil packet. “Thank fuck for my asshole friends,” he mutters, returning to me.

Hovering above me, he soaks me in, licking his lips at the sight of me in nothing but my panties. His eyes darken as I hook my thumbs inside the thin fabric and slowly slide them off.

“Fuck.” A growl rumbles in his chest, unrestrained and feral as his breathing quickens, his gaze raking over me before meeting mine once more.

Lowering himself on top of me, our bodies collide as he crushes his mouth to mine. I can feel him hard against me, his touch an inferno as he finds his way down my body like a roadmap leading home.

Heat curls around me like a vine until I’m desperate for friction as his tongue tastes and teases, his lips coaxing me into submission until he finds the apex at my thighs.

Anticipation settles into the pit of my stomach, curling tight and hot like a spark poised to ignite.

I clutch at the sheets beneath me, until I grow impatient and needy.

As if he can read my thoughts, I hear a crinkling sound as his mouth ravishes mine.

A moment later, he slides home, and I catch my breath.

He stills, giving our bodies the chance to remember each other, and when I open my eyes, I find him watching me with a vulnerability in his eyes that makes my heart clench.

“What?” I whisper, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze.

He rocks into me, and we both groan.

“I’m just . . .” He brushes a curl out of my face. “I’m making sure you’re real. That this is real, and you’re here . . .”

I swallow, catching his hand and pressing it to my cheek, rolling my hips beneath him. “I’m right here. And this is more than real, Damon.” With all the tenderness I hold in my heart, I lean in, brushing a kiss over his lips as I say, “I love you, QB.”

A breathy sigh escapes his lips as he presses his forehead to mine. “I love you too.”

And then he starts to move, and my mouth finds his once more.

The world narrows to just us. Nothing else exists.

Nothing else matters. Not my father or his.

Not the Football Championship or the uncertainty of the future or the turmoil of the past. Just the perfection of this moment. Right here. Right now.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

A loud pounding filters through my thoughts. Slowly, I come to consciousness, and when I do, the first thing I register is the weight of the arm wrapped around my waist.

Smiling, I turn in Damon’s arms, taking in the slight part of his full lips, the strong jaw covered in dark stubble, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest when he tugs me closer. “Not yet. Just another minute,” he murmurs.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

I lift my eyes to the door, awake enough to register that the sound I had heard was someone knocking.

“I know you’re in there, fucker!” a familiar voice calls out.

Damon groans and drags a hand over his eyes. “Chris,” he murmurs.

“West called, said you weren’t in your room when he woke up, and this is the only place you would go, so open up!” he yells on the other side of my door.

I chuckle when Damon silently flips the door the bird.

“It’s game day, fucker, and we have to meet Coach for pregame in twenty minutes!”

Damon’s eyes fly open, the green wild as hisses, “Shit!”

“Go.” I nudge him as we both scramble out of bed, fumbling with our clothes as we tug them on in record time.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Damon mutters, tugging his shirt over his head when Chris starts pounding again. “Hold onto your jocks, I’m coming, asshole,” he growls.

A rumble of laughter filters through the door and Damon ignores it as he reaches for me, cupping my face in my hands. “I’m sorry I have to go like this.” He presses a hurried kiss to my lips. “I wish I could stay, but?”

“Go!” I say, giving him a gentle shove. “Seriously, it’s okay. I’ll walk you out.”

His gaze rakes over my face as if trying to ensure I mean it before he nods and heads for the door. Yanking it open, he rears back when Chris all but falls inside the room, stumbling as he reaches for the doorframe. West, Jace, and Brandon all form a wall behind him.

“So . . .” Chris smirks. “Have yourself a nice time last night, did ya?”

Damon scowls. “Fuck off.”

“Oh, I think you did enough of that for the both of us.”

Damon gives him the middle finger before motioning to his teammates with pink cheeks. “Was the search party really necessary when you already knew where I was?”

“Hell yes, it was necessary,” Chris says with a laugh. “You needed a proper walk of shame. No disrespect intended, Avery,” he says, turning to me.

“Out. Now.” Damon points toward the door.

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Chris prattles on, ignoring Damon. “It’s completely natural. Just two people who are in love, expressing it in physical form. A beautiful thing.”

“Would you shut the fuck up?” Damon snaps, while I stifle a laugh.

“Geez, you’re testy,” Chris mutters. “You’d think since you got some last night, your bedside manner would have improved.”

The muscle in Damon’s jaw ticks as he glares at his friend, then shoves him out the open door, waiting for the others to follow before turning back to me. “I don’t want to leave.”

I laugh, nudging his arm. “Go and crush them, QB. Have some victory drinks with your dad. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re finished.”

“Promise?” he asks, his gaze settling on my lips.

“Promise.”