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10

TRIPP

“Fuck,” I hiss as I watch rope after rope of my cum spray the tile in my shower, trying to catch my breath. I brace myself against the wall with one hand, my heartbeat racing. I close my eyes, letting the water run down my body as I lazily pump out the remaining bits of my release.

That’s the third time this week I’ve had this…issue.

Granted, I masturbate on a regular basis, but not more than a couple times a week, mostly before I go to bed.

Waking up hard as a damn rock and needing to come, fantasizing about Amelia…ever since that kiss…that’s definitely new, but not unwelcome. Not one fucking bit, when the result is…this.

Fuck, this feels good, but as I remove my hand from my cock, noting the cum collected in my palm and between my fingers, I can’t help but feel a little guilty.

We’ve been chatting all week. Nothing too flirtatious, though I’ve sent a few things, mostly to see how she’d react.

And she’s flirted back, I guess, but sometimes it’s hard to tell over text.

Dane told us he invited her to our home game next week.

That should make me happy, and it does…kind of.

I know he wants to approach her about having her move in here, if only so she has a bit more support, but like he said, it’s a touchy subject.

Maybe there’s a part of me that feels a little unnerved because it’s pretty clear to anyone with fucking eyeballs, Dane has it bad for Amelia, and now that Dex is out of the picture…

He’s like a feral cat in heat. Which shouldn’t bother me, because fuck, if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s Dane. He’s a freaking saint, seriously.

Betsy and Dad have tried to set him up with women, but it never works out.

Now I know why.

But it does bother me, because I can’t stop thinking about her either.

I rinse off my hand, hurrying to cleanse myself of dangerous thoughts.

Thoughts about my hands running down Amelia’s perfect hips, of my palms settling against her stomach as I fill her with my cum. Thoughts of my mouth on her neck, suckling her flesh until I leave bright bruised marks that let everyone know she’s mine.

Because she’s not mine. I know that better than anyone. I know one kiss and some flirting does not equal a relationship, and I know one date to the zoo—wait, was it actually a date though? I don’t know.

It felt like a date, but…

I shove those thoughts out of my mind as I finish up my shower. I need to focus on getting to campus. I’ve got class and practice today with my team, and I could use a distraction from the weirdness around here with Dane and Richie and the woman I can’t stop thinking about.

The drive to the campus isn’t long enough. Not today. Today, I’m just too out of sorts to really concentrate on much.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder as I get out and head toward the front of the campus. I always park in the back lot because it’s not used as frequently as the front, which means there’s a bit more privacy and less of a chance someone will actually hit my car.

The campus is not terribly packed today, which I’m grateful for. All through my geography class, I take notes, hearing the words but not really processing them. It’s like I’m on autopilot.

What if she says yes? To moving in with us, I mean. What will that do for us ? Is there even an us to consider? I know how Dane feels, but what are her feelings? Deciding I don’t want to answer that, I shut my notebook just as the bell sounds and pack everything up. I’ve got practice next. Our next game isn’t for two weeks, but after two back-to-back losses, we need all the practice we can get if we want to get back on top.

Not looking where I’m going, with my brain distracted, I nearly pummel right into someone. A woman. Shit.

“I’m so sorry,” I say as I extend my arms to steady the woman, my eyes going wide when I see the object of my carelessness is none other than her.

“Tripp?” Amelia’s bright blue eyes blink, her long lashes as dark as the eyeliner smudged around them. The dark makeup makes the color stand out like fresh ice, right after it’s been hit with the Zamboni.

“Mia…” I say, swallowing hard. My cock jumps to attention, my brain trying to replay the thoughts from earlier, but I push them down. Now is not the time…

“What uh…what are you doing here?” she asks, blinking furiously. I watch as she bites her lip, my hands staying on her arms. I make no move to drop them, my gaze flitting to her mouth.

Remembering just what it felt like against mine…

“I go here,” I say, like an idiot.

“Right,” she says, closing her eyes, shaking her head. Her blonde curls bounce on her shoulders and the urge to reach out and run my hands through her hair is damn near overwhelming.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my fingers twitching. I settle the urge by grabbing my backpack strap. The need to touch her is almost unbearable. Not appropriate, Tripp! “And where’s the little princess?”

Amelia purses her lips, letting out a sigh. “Well, uh…I’m actually applying for a job. Here,” she says, tucking some hair behind her ear. We shift out of the way of some students walking by.

“And Lyla is at home…with Sam.”

“Sam…” I say, my voice taking on an edge of jealousy. Who the fuck is Sam ?

“Samantha Cardwyle. My best friend…she…we used to work together at Sasson. She still works there. Today’s her off day, and I saw this ad in the paper at the coffee shop earlier in the week and?—”

She shakes her head as my nerves settle. Okay, so Sam is a girl. That shouldn’t matter, I know that, but it makes me feel better.

Her words settle on me, and it’s my turn to blink.

“Wait, what? You’re applying for a job here? What job?” I ask, excitement lacing my voice. She smiles, taking a small step toward me, and like magnetism, I fall into her space. She smells like a mixture of baby powder and flowers and it’s a weird sort of combination, but it isn’t unpleasant.

In fact, I kind of like it, if I’m being honest.

“Um…administrative assistant.” She gives me a soft smile.

She didn’t mention anything about applying for a job in her text messages. And Dane certainly didn’t mention anything, which makes me feel a little shitty.

She didn’t tell us. Not that she has to run her life by any of us, but…

Still, it would have been nice to know. And I’m sure Dane or Rich could’ve pulled little princess duty if she needed it.

I know my brothers want to help. Dane is pretty obvious, but I’ve also seen the way Richie listens, the way he responds when Dane mentions Amelia. He knows what it’s like to have the world ripped out from under you. Richie hasn’t had an easy go, and his divorce was brutal. At least that’s what I gathered, because everyone was always pretty quiet about it.

But I can tell he wants to help too, even if he’s not as vocal about it as Dane is.

Dex is still our brother. As pissed as we might be at him , we all know Amelia doesn’t deserve to struggle and suffer because he was a fucking douchebag and an idiot.

“Cool,” I say, trying to hide my overexcitement. Just because she’s applying for the gig doesn’t mean she’ll get it, and I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.

“I should uh…really get going. I don’t want to be late for my interview.”

I glance down the hall toward the gym, then back toward the front of the building. “You uh…want some company on the way?” I ask, noting the smile that crosses her face. Her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink, which makes me grin.

“I think I’d like that, actually,” she says, and I nod in response.

“Well, come on then, Mamma Mia,” I say, and she giggles.

She has the cutest little giggle. Next to Lyla, of course.

That kid is fucking adorable.

I nod in the direction of admin, gesturing for her to follow me. We walk together, bullshitting about the café, or all the places that are closed, or new places that have popped up since she’s been here. It’s strangely easy, and I swear it feels so comfortable it’s like I’ve known her forever, despite barely knowing her at all.

Considering we only met once before she and Dex left town, and the last time I saw her, I already had my tongue in her mouth.

That should be weird, right?

I mean, technically the list of weird things is up to a full hand right now.

She’s my stepbrother’s ex. Granted, we’re not related or anything, but it’s still a fucking obvious thing. Even if we don’t mention it, it’s there. Hovering like a devil over my shoulder.

She’s a hot, single mother. Like, really fucking hot. I know the fantasies that fill my brain about her are definitely borderline pervy. Her full breasts, sinful hips…those pouty, perfect lips…

Oh yeah, and I guess there’s the whole age thing too. Not that it matters to me since there’s only six years between us. It’s not like the fifteen-year age gap between her and Rich…

I shake my head, trying to dispel the thought of Richard and Amelia in any kind of capacity like that. Knowing Dane is obsessed with her is bad enough.

Then, of course, there’s the fact that I know she’s not in the best place right now, I know that.

I also know what her tongue feels like in my mouth, but I don’t know what her favorite color is, or if she’s over my fucking asshole stepbrother dicking her over. And I don’t know how she feels about my feral stepbrother who’s plotting away over there like some lovestruck villain.

But despite all of that, I don’t give a shit. I know I should, but looking at Amelia, it’s hard to remember the why nots. Especially when she flashes those gorgeous eyes at me and blushes like a damn teenager. Because of me.

Because she likes me. In a non-familial way, and she’s as terrified as I am to admit it.

A whistle stops us both in our tracks as we come to the landing at the bottom of the stairs. We both turn.

“Hey, sweetheart, what are you studying? How to be hot as fuck?”

The guy at the bottom of the stairs brushes past her, and it takes everything in me not to fucking punch this asshole.

Because I know him. He’s the idiot goalie for the Raccoons, Lance Danvers.

Amelia looks around, startled. “I don’t know who you’re talking to, but—” Her voice takes on a stern tone, the kind that reminds me of how teachers talk. To kids. Like a condescending sort of kindness that implies the stupidity in ones actions, but with a saccharine tone to make it less of an insult.

“I’m talking to you, sweetheart,” he says, before he notices me next to Amelia. “Practice is the other way, Tripp.” Lance scoffs as I push him against the railing.

“Walk away, Amelia,” I tell her, my voice edged in command. “Now.”

“Tripp…” She places her hand on my arm, her palm warm and soothing. “It’s okay, just…”

Lance shakes out of my hold, glancing from me to her. His gaze is inquisitive, but also furious. “See you at practice,” he bites out, shouldering me off of him as he heads upstairs toward the gym.

Amelia lets out a heavy sigh, clearly flustered. “Oh my God, I am so sorry, I?—”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. Lance is an asshole.”

“Still, I don’t want to cause trouble for you, or…”

I run my hand down her arm until I find her hand and intertwine my fingers with hers. I know it’s a bold move, but the fact that she doesn’t push me away is all the confirmation I need. She squeezes my hand softly.

“This okay?” I ask, glancing up at her.

She nods, biting her lip. Fuck, why is that so sexy?

“Good,” I say, offering her a smile. “How long is your interview?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I mean…it’s not technically for another twenty minutes, and then I don’t know how long it’ll actually take, and?—”

“Breathe, Mamma Mia. You got this,” I tell her with a wide grin.

“Tripp…”

“How about…” I pull her softly away from the stairs, leading her through the lobby. “You text me when you’re done, and we’ll…grab lunch or something.”

She sighs, but she follows me without question.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” she says as I arrive near the admin wing, just out of sight of the secretaries.

“Better things to do than what? You?” I tease as I pull her close. I wrap my arm around her waist and lean in close, my lips ghosting hers as she gently pushes me away, but the smile on her face tells me she’s not mad or offended one bit.

“Tripp…”

“I like how you keep saying my name,” I whisper, tugging her close against me.

She lets me, settling her hand on my chest and gazing up at me with wistful eyes.

“It’s a very nice name,” she whispers.

“Guess I’m just going to have to find more ways to make you say it,” I tell her as I kiss her. It’s quick, but she doesn’t pull away. She relaxes in my arms, and the bell rings, signaling the start of the next class. “Fuck, I gotta get to practice,” I sigh, and she pushes away from me. I hate the emptiness that follows without her against me.

“And I have an interview,” she says, as if reminding herself of the reason she came here in the first place.

“Knock ’em dead, sweetheart,” I tell her with a wink, relishing in the blush on her cheeks once more. “Catch you later.”

Nearly an hour later, I get a text from Amelia that her interview is over. Honestly, I wasn’t sure she would text me, but I’m glad she did. Excusing myself is easy since practice is wrapping up, and my next class is starting in two hours. I don’t think I’ve ever dressed myself so fast.

“Hey,” I say, my entire face lighting up when I look at her. She looks up from her phone, and I can’t even describe the feeling of seeing that smile. She waited for me. She didn’t have to, and I know that, but she did, and something about that feels damn near monumental.

“Hey,” she says with a smile as I approach her.

“You want to grab something to eat from the café, or?—”

She shakes her head. “I really should be going home. I’ve already been gone a couple hours and?—”

I nod. Of course, I’m sure she misses her baby girl, and given everything that’s happened…

“Can I uh…walk you to your car then?” I ask sheepishly, running a hand through my hair.

Amelia’s gaze softens as it dips to my mouth, then to my eyes.

“I’d like that, yes,” she says, and I grin.

I grab her by the hand and she doesn’t fight me. Her fingers intertwine with mine and it feels good. Comfortable.

I’m not sure what this means, really, because we haven’t had the time to talk about what happened—our kiss—or this feeling between us, and I’m not going to push her. She’s been through enough, and I don’t want to add to her stress or anything. Right now, this is enough, I think.

I know Amelia enough to know that if she doesn’t want to do something, she won’t. If she thinks I’m coming on too strong, I trust she’ll tell me. She doesn’t strike me as meek in any sense of the word.

When we get to her car, parked in the front of the campus, she sighs, her entire body tensing. “Well, I guess this is it…” She twists her lips, but she doesn’t let go for a moment.

“A little birdy told me you’re going to the Badgers game next week,” I tell her.

“What?” She lets go of me as she digs in her pocket for her keys.

“The Badgers game against the Pandas. Dane said he invited you and?—”

“Oh, right. Yes, the home game…” She nods. “I didn’t say yes, I said I’d think about it. ”

Oh.

That’s not what Dane seemed to think. I’m half worried I should say something, but I also don’t want to kill the guy’s plan…a plan I need to help with, apparently.

I lean against her car as she opens her door.

“Well, if you need a…” I stop, trying to think of the right word, because friend doesn’t sound right, and I’m certainly not her boyfriend or anything.

The last thought makes me frown.

Do I want to be her boyfriend? The fact that I can’t say no should be a red flag on so many levels, because of all the reasons she’s stated. But regardless of the list of reasons why I shouldn’t pursue her, my list of reasons to do so is getting longer every time I talk to her or see her.

“If you need someone to go with you, I’m free that night.” I shrug.

Amelia’s eyes light up as she shakes her head. “You really are a trip, Tripp.”

I lean down as she settles in her driver’s seat, grabbing her seat belt. The motion jostles her with surprise as I pull it across her chest. The movement puts my face right in front of her, and I don’t think, I just act.

I kiss her.

Her lips move against mine, slow and even, a sweet surrender. Click goes the seat belt, but Amelia’s hand holds my neck still as she kisses me back. I caress her tongue with mine and let out a groan of satisfaction.

Fuck, I could kiss this woman forever.

She breaks away barely a second later as I smile.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea…” she says with a blush as I shut her door.

“That’s not a yes…” I tell her with a laugh.

Amelia casts me a look of annoyance. “It’s not a no either, Tripp. I’ll think about it.”

“Think about it all you want, Mamma Mia,” I tell her with a wink. “Think long and hard about it.”

The way her cheeks heat has me laughing and shaking my head. She turns the key in the ignition, and I step back to give her room to leave, and…

It doesn’t kick over.

She tries again. And again.

“Fuck!” she says, all excitement and flirtatious sweetness gone.

Oh, shit.

“Don’t do this to me now,” she curses silently as she tries to turn the car on again.

Nothing.

Amelia hits her head against the steering wheel. “This can’t be happening.”

I don’t know shit about cars, but I know one person who does.

“It’s okay, we can fix this, we can?—”

“I can’t afford to get this shit fixed right now…” she whines, and my heart drops.

“Fuck…” I hear a choked sob, and I don’t think twice about opening her door. She looks at me with worried eyes and undoes her seat belt. I kneel before her, my fingers hastily typing out a text.

“I think I know someone who can help,” I tell her, swallowing nervously.

“Don’t…” She shakes her head. “I’ll figure it out, I?—”

“No,” I tell her, shaking my head. “Not taking no for an answer.”

She sighs, burying her head in her hands.

My phone dings as Richie texts me back.

On my way.

I also note that I have about fifteen minutes to get to class early so I can set up for my presentation today.

I kneel in front of her, taking her hands in mine.

“Richard’s on his way,” I say, and her body tenses.

“What?”

“Richie. He’s the smartest dude I know when it comes to car trouble. Guy’s got a regular mechanical thumb or some shit. I swear if anyone will know how to get this thing running to get you home, it’s him.”

Amelia’s eyebrows furrow. “Tripp…”

“I wish I could help, but I don’t know shit about cars,” I admit. “Richie is the guy I call, so…”

She smiles, nodding. “Okay.” I don’t miss the worry in her voice. “I guess I’ll call Sam and let her know what’s going on and that I might be a little late.”

I squeeze her hand. “I’ve…got to go, but…I promise it’ll be okay, okay?”

Amelia nods. “Right, of course.”

I get up, pulling her with me. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her once more, just a quick peck, but she doesn’t stop me.

I’m glad she doesn’t.

“Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay,” she says as I let her go.