Page 12

Chapter Twelve

Gavin

What. The. Hell. Am I doing?

I leave Charley’s through the back entrance with Sienna, her just behind me, our hands linked. Linked.

She doesn’t say a word. Neither do I. We walked to Charley’s, and we are just as capable of walking back to my apartment, where there is no one to disturb us. No roommates around either. We’ll be all alone.

And fuck me, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself. Maybe I don’t want to.

Yeah. I definitely don’t want to.

The entire night at Charley’s was torture. The moment I see Sienna, I want to be around her. She’s so damn sweet, so giving, and after the blistering conversation I had with my father earlier, I’m still feeling raw. Needy. He had some harsh criticism for me as usual, reminding me of all the mistakes I made, which always messes with my head. This might be the dumbest idea of my life, but here I am, desperate to be alone with her and making it happen.

Fuck it. I’m tired of holding back. She wants me. I want her. What’s the harm in it? I haven’t had sex in months. Mostly because no one appeals to me, with the exception of Sienna. She seems to understand me like no other woman I’ve ever met, and I just ...

I need someone tonight. I need her.

We’re back at my apartment within five minutes, and I unlock the door via the keypad, pushing it open and holding it for her to let her in. She walks past me, her body brushing against mine, my skin catching fire from the contact, and I slowly close the door. Lock it. Press my forehead to it for a moment and take a deep breath.

“Why did you invite me back here?”

Damn, she would ask the tough questions.

“I just want to talk.” I turn and face her, noting the skepticism on her face.

“Okay.” She rests her hands on her hips, looking ready to challenge me. She’s so damn hot in the Dolphins T-shirt and jeans. She washed off the face paint at the bar, but I still see a few specks of white and blue on her skin. “Let’s talk.”

“Not in here.”

“Then where?”

“My room?”

Sienna goes quiet, her teeth sinking into her lower lip and looking sexy as fuck. “Gavin. What exactly are you asking me to do?”

“I’m tired, Freckles. I need to relax. And I couldn’t do that back at Charley’s. It was too busy. I just—need someone.” I swallow hard. Wonder if she knows that took a lot for me to admit.

“Just someone? Anyone?” Her brows lift. She’s going to make me say it.

“I need you,” I murmur.

Her expression barely changes at my confession. I spot a flicker of something in her eyes, but that’s it. “Let’s go to your room then.”

She follows me into my bedroom, and I don’t bother turning on the light. I just shed my clothes until I’m standing there in only my boxer briefs, feeling exposed. Even a little raw. This isn’t how I operate, telling a woman that I need her. I’ve gone through most of my life acting like I need no one. I believed I could do everything, gain anything I wanted on my own.

I’ve come to realize that I need a team. Not just with football because, yeah, that’s the fucking point. But in my life too. I need people I look up to like Coach and the rest of the staff. My friends—my best friends. I depend on those guys. They’re like family to me.

And then there’s Sienna. Right now, I need her the most. I like having her as a friend, but there’s more to it. More to us. She’s inserted herself into my life, and I allowed it to happen. I wanted it.

I want her.

I’ve been a selfish motherfucker for most of my life, but I’m always careful around her. I don’t want to ruin it. Ruin her. Ruin my friendship with Coop. I’m tired of holding back and not giving in to my feelings. This girl ... means a lot to me. I care about her. And I know she cares about me too.

I don’t want to mess this up.

Sienna doesn’t say a word while she watches me strip, and I have to admit, having her appreciative gaze on me is a boost to my ego, which is feeling battered tonight. Not that I’ve told anyone why.

Tugging back the comforter, I crawl into bed and then pat the empty space beside me. “You should join me.”

“Gavin ...” Her voice is filled with caution, and I see the look on her face.

She’s terrified. And I did that to her. All the back-and-forth over the years has come to this.

“Please?”

That single word sets her into motion. She’s toeing off her shoes and shimmying out of her jeans, kicking them aside. She keeps on the Dolphins T-shirt, and for a brief moment, I imagine her wearing my jersey. My number. That familiar possessive feeling rises within me, growing with every second that passes, and I tell myself to calm the fuck down.

She joins me in bed, sliding under the comforter and pulling it over her body. She rolls over onto her side, facing me, and I do the same, facing her. It’s dark in my room, though the blinds are cracked, letting in streams of light from the full moon outside. I stare at her face, drinking in her striking features, and I wonder what the hell is wrong with me that I won’t make a serious move on her.

“What’s bothering you?” she asks. I part my lips, ready to tell her, but she speaks right over me. “And don’t say it’s nothing, because it’s fairly obvious something is eating at you.”

For someone who avoided me for years, she certainly knows me well. “I spoke to my father earlier. He called me.”

Sienna frowns. “When?”

“Right after the game, when we were in the locker room. The conversation—didn’t go well.” It never does.

She remains quiet, and I have a feeling she’s trying to choose her words carefully. “What in the world did he say to you besides ‘good job’ and ‘congrats on winning the game’?”

“Nothing positive.” I release a ragged breath. “He told me I played like shit today.”

“That’s not true.” She sounds indignant on my behalf, which is exactly what I was seeking from her. I need that blind loyalty of hers tonight. Maybe it’ll ease the sting from my father’s criticisms. “Did he not watch the game? You were great out on that field!”

“Maybe,” I hedge. I’m full of doubt, thanks to that phone conversation with dear old Dad. He lit into me from the moment I said hello, and I couldn’t even tell you why. Maybe because he lost control of my life a long time ago and it still pisses him off to this day? The man acts like he holds a serious grudge against me, and I don’t know what the hell I ever did to him to make him feel this way. Maybe it’s because I was born?

Jesus.

“Hey.” She grabs hold of my face, her fingers pressing into my skin as she stares into my eyes. “Don’t listen to him. Coop has mentioned you don’t have the best relationship with your father, but don’t let his words get in your head.”

I nod once, trying to absorb what she’s saying, but it’s difficult. I can’t block out what he says, no matter how hard I try.

“Seriously.” She gives my head a little shake, like she can rattle out the years of negativity my father has spewed at me. “Don’t let him ruin your confidence. You’re Gavin fucking Maddox. One of the best college quarterbacks to ever play.”

A smile curls my lips. “I don’t know about the ‘to ever play’ part.”

“You know what I mean.” She cups my cheeks, her touch turning gentle. “You shouldn’t ever doubt yourself, Gavin. That’ll only make everything worse. Whenever Coop gets too in his head, he does terrible. It messes with his game, and he’s created a ritual where he puts in his AirPods and tunes out the world before every single game.”

She’s right. He does do that, and we all leave him alone. Maybe I should start something like that, too, but my team needs me. I’m their leader. Coop is a team captain, too, but it’s different when you’re the QB. And I want people to look up to me, to seek me out so I can give them advice. I dole out the positivity because it feels good. Something I learned from my dad, who was too hard on me. Eventually that shit eats you alive.

“You need to stay confident and believe in yourself,” she adds. “You’re a great quarterback, Gavin, and your team needs you just as much as you need them. You’ve got this. I know you do.”

I nod, savoring the feel of her hands on my skin. How she’s completely focused on me and nothing else. “You make it sound easy.”

“I know it’s not.” Her voice softens. “But I have faith in you.”

“At least someone does,” I mutter.

Her face falls a little, the sympathy flaring in her eyes. “I hate to see you suffering.”

“I’ll get over it. I always do.”

She drops her hands from my face, and I immediately miss her touch. Until she slides her fingers into my hair, her fingernails lightly scratching my scalp. “Has he always been this hard on you?”

“My entire life.” I close my eyes and exhale softly, enjoying the head massage she gives me. I could get used to treatment like this. Couldn’t I?

“He’s a dick.” She goes still, and I crack open my eyes to see her peering up at me, her expression full of guilt. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that about your dad.”

“Why not? You’re only speaking the truth.”

She removes her hand from my hair and rolls over so she’s lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. “This entire moment is surreal.”

“What do you mean?”

Her head swivels to the right, her gaze meeting mine once more. “I’m in Gavin Maddox’s bed on a Saturday night trying to give him a pep talk. Like, what is this life?”

“I’m not that big of a deal.”

“Oh, but you are. You’re just downplaying it.” She sighs, her focus returning to the ceiling. “Why did you ask me to come back here again?”

“I needed someone to talk to. Someone I can trust.” I keep my attention fixed on her, admiring her profile. The gentle slope of her nose. Her full lips. Her smooth, soft skin dotted with freckles, and I’m tempted to reach out and touch her, but I keep my hands to myself.

“You have plenty of friends you can trust. Why me?”

“I can’t tell them my doubts and insecurities.”

“Not even to my brother?”

I hate that she brought up Coop. He’s the last person I want to think about while I have his little sister in my bed. “I don’t want to ruin his good time. They’re all on a high from the win, and they don’t need to deal with my shit. My dad isn’t their problem. He’s mine.”

She turns her head, her dark eyes locked with mine once again. “They would be there for you and listen no matter what. You’re one of Coop’s best friends.”

“I know. You’re right.” I blow out a harsh breath. “I’m being a pussy.”

“No, you’re not. You’re allowed to have feelings, Gavin. And we all want our parents’ approval. It’s okay to feel this way. You don’t have to be emotionless all the time.”

“You think I’m emotionless?”

“I think you try to hold back your emotions, yes.”

“I trained myself to not show any after a while so I wouldn’t trigger my dad. It’s like he looks for signs that I’m weak and attacks me.”

“That’s awful,” she murmurs, sounding horrified.

“It is. But I just learned how to deal, you know? My parents aren’t anything like yours. They support you guys no matter what you want.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Her tone—and her words—startle me. “What do you mean by that?”

She returns her focus to the ceiling yet again. “My parents have focused all of their attention on Coop my entire life. I love my brother and I’m proud of him, but sometimes I feel like I’m an afterthought to my family.”

Her confession is shocking. From the outside, the Coopers look like a supportive, loving family. I’ve never seen Sienna act like she doesn’t want to be around her parents. They’ve always seemed really close.

But I suppose I get what she’s saying. I don’t have siblings to fight for attention from my parents. It might’ve been nice, to have a brother or sister. They could’ve taken the heat off me for a moment.

“That’s tough,” I murmur. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“I’ve never told anyone because why should I make this about me? Coop is the star of the family. I don’t mind standing in the shadows.”

I don’t believe her. I can hear it in her voice. She wants to shine like her brother, and she deserves to.

“If you didn’t have to live in your brother’s shadow, what would you do, Sienna? Have any secret dreams about your life? Your future?” Has anyone ever asked her those questions before? I’m guessing no.

“I don’t know,” she starts, but I reach for her, pressing my finger against her plump lips, silencing her.

“That’s a lie and you know it.” I keep my voice low and my finger on her mouth, sending her a meaningful look. “Be real with me.” I drop my hand from her face and wait for her to speak.

She licks her lips, and I stifle the groan that wants to escape at seeing her pink tongue. “I’ve always wanted to start my own business.”

“Doing what?” I ask.

A soft sigh leaves her, and she keeps her gaze fixed on the ceiling. Like she can’t face me when she says it. “I want to run my own ice cream stand.”

Seriously? I almost say the word out loud, but I don’t want to offend her. That just feels like a ... small goal in the scheme of life, but what do I know? If this is what she wants, then she should go for it. And why should I shit on her secret dreams, anyway? I feel like this is a big deal, that she’d admit this to me.

“It’s dumb, right?” she asks after I remain silent.

“No, it’s not dumb if that’s what you want to do,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “What inspired you to want an ice cream stand?”

“It’s a little silly, but I saw this teenage boy out on the beach last year, and he had his own ice cream stand. Like one of those freezers on wheels you can push around? He had a nice little setup with a cute fringed umbrella keeping him in the shade and a colorful sign on the front of the freezer listing all of the ice cream he carried. I kept tabs on him, and he had this endless line the entire time I was out there, and I couldn’t stop watching him. He always had a smile on his face, and so did everyone who was buying his ice cream. He was bringing joy to those people, and I realized that’s exactly what I want to do. Bring joy to people. And what better way to do that but hang out on the beach all day and sell ice cream? Everyone loves ice cream,” she explains.

“Not anyone who’s lactose intolerant,” I can’t help but point out.

She sends me a vaguely irritated look. “You know what I mean. And there are plenty of nondairy options out there.”

“Well, if you want to do that, you should.”

“How? There will be expenses, and I don’t have a lot of money. I looked into an ice cream cart like the guy had on the beach, and that’s around two thousand dollars. I don’t have that kind of money right now. I’m still trying to find a part-time job to get me through college.”

I’d offer to loan her the money, but I know she’d turn me down, so I stay quiet.

“I’ll need to invest in the freezer and all the ice cream. That can’t be cheap. And it’s a pretty limited job, don’t you think? I’d only be able to do it during the summer. Besides, I’ll be graduating soon, and I should probably focus on getting a job where I can use my degree.”

She sounds defeated, but she shouldn’t be.

“Not if you do it here in Santa Mira. The weather is pretty good year round. Maybe you could do an ice cream truck. That might be an easier option.” There are food trucks all over the coast, but I don’t know if I’ve seen one around here that sells just ice cream, beyond the vans that cruise through the neighborhoods during the summer when the little kids are out in force. There is one food truck that creates specialty shakes that I see around on the weekends, but that’s different than what Sienna wants to do.

“That sounds even more expensive. My parents can’t help out. They don’t have a lot of money either,” she mumbles. “And it’s a silly idea. No one wants a career selling ice cream. I guess I had dreams of hanging out on the beach all day, though I’d probably get sunburned and turn into a walking freckle.”

“Sienna.” She turns her head to look at me. “It’s not silly. Nothing you ever do or think is silly. Though the idea of you turning into a walking freckle ... that’s kind of silly.”

I’m teasing her with the last line. I meant every word I said.

Her smile is faint and she reaches for me, her hand landing on my neck, warm and comforting. “You know just what to say to make me believe in myself, even when my ideas are bonkers. Thank you, Gavin.”

We stare into each other’s eyes for far too long, and she scoots closer, her hand never straying from my neck. I shift closer to her too. Until our bodies are next to each other and her body heat is seeping into me. We don’t have much clothing on, and when her legs tangle with mine, I give in.

Grabbing hold of her slender waist, I haul her into me and kiss her.

She doesn’t fight me. No, she gives in beautifully, her lips parting automatically for my tongue, her hands winding around my neck, her fingers sliding into my hair. I wrap my arms around her even tighter, jerking her forward, wanting her as close as I can get her, and she moans into my mouth.

The soft, sexy sound does something to me. Kicks my urges into overdrive, and I roll her over so she’s lying beneath me and I’ve got her pinned to the mattress. I search her mouth with my tongue, run my hand up and down the side of her body, and when I finally break the kiss, I lift away from her, staring at her beautiful face.

Her breaths come fast, and there’s so much fear in her eyes. Like she’s afraid I’m going to push her away right now, which is what I usually do.

I’m such an asshole.

But I don’t push her away. I keep my eyes on her as I reach in between us, my fingers curling around the hem of her T-shirt before I lift it up slowly. Glancing down, I watch as I expose the tops of her thighs. The little red panties she has on—damn, they’re barely covering her. The soft, pale skin of her stomach above said tiny panties. I stop when just the underside of her breasts are exposed, and I release a ragged exhale, staring at her perfectly shaped tits.

I shouldn’t do this. I’m a selfish bastard who just wants a look. Maybe even a taste. I won’t take it any further. I promise.

“I promise,” I murmur as I slide down her body, my mouth landing right above the waistband of her panties. I breathe deeply, inhaling her familiar scent. The musky scent of her pussy. Right. I won’t take it any further.

I’m lying to myself.

“What are you promising, Gavin?” she asks, her voice raspy, her breaths coming in soft little pants.

She doesn’t want to know that I was promising to myself that I wouldn’t take this too far, but that’s not true. I want to take it as far as I can get with her. As far as she’ll allow me. My mouth literally waters as her scent intensifies, and I drop my head. Press tiny kisses along the waistband of her panties, overcome with the need to tear them off.

I’m desperate to taste her. Just once.