Page 13

Thirteen

NAT

“I thought I made my thoughts on the matter pretty fucking clear, dad.”

“You were upset in the moment. So we’re going to have the conversation again, Natalie. It’s far past time for a serious discussion.”

“I’m not doing this right now. I’m at work,” I hiss, leaning around my computer to make sure no one’s within hearing distance. “I’ll talk to you more at dinner next week.”

“Fine.”

“Love you,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Love you too.”

We hang up and I ball my hands into fists, so annoyed that I’m shaking. I can’t believe he’s back to planning my entire life for me, like I don’t get a say. I’m a fucking adult. I’m tired of him acting like I’m not, like I’m just some puppet that’ll do whatever he wants me to do when he pulls the strings. I have a bad feeling that next week’s dinner is going to end in a blow out, but I don’t care.

A knock on my door draws my attention.

“Hey, Bobby, come on in.”

He smiles and saunters in, sinking into one of the soft leather chairs beside my desk. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes and I arch a brow.

“Someone looks tired.”

“I was up late,” he says vaguely, but I narrow my eyes when his cheeks darken a bit.

“Bobby Tremblay, are you blushing ??” He straightens and his light brown cheeks darken even more and my mouth pops open. “You are!! Spill it!”

“I am not! I just…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I kind of hooked up with someone last night. Someone I definitely shouldn’t have.”

I huff out a laugh. “Join the fucking club, my friend,” I mutter.

“I’ll be the treasurer,” he says with a half-smile.

“How was it?” I ask eagerly, leaning in and wanting all the details. I’ve been trying to find someone to set him up with, but he shoots down all of my suggestions. Bobby is very picky, apparently.

“It was…amazing,” he sighs with a smile. “Really fucking amazing.” I squeal and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t get all excited. It was just a casual thing.”

“For now,” I say with a grin and he can’t help but smile at my enthusiasm.

“Are you still hooking up with a certain star Center with a rumored extra large…stick?” he asks, pointedly.

“No. Yes. No,” I say shaking my head. “Definitely no.” He gives me a look that says cut the bullshit, and I groan. “Ok, so we might have, uh, sexted last night? Is that still what it’s called?”

Now he leans forward, golden eyes alight with interest.

“Was it hot? Ah hell, I bet it was hot. He looks like the kind of guy with a filthy mouth who knows all the right things to say.”

“It was. He is.” I put my head in my hands. “But that’s the last time. I’m not letting anything happen again, text or otherwise.”

“Sure, sure,” he says breezily.

“I mean it!” He gives me a look that says he doesn’t believe that for a second and I flip him off. My phone buzzes then and his brows raise up.

“Tell me it’s him…please tell me it’s him.”

“I will stab you,” I tell him, brandishing my letter opener. “And no, it’s Hattie in the Sin Bin Chat…” He pats his pocket and then must realize he left his phone in his own office. “Ha! Look at this pic!”

I show Bobby the selfie of Hattie with a very disgruntled looking Shep in a wheelchair.

“Looks like he’s headed home. She’s taking the day, obviously. Wanna go by there later? Maybe bring them some food or something?”

“Sound like a plan,” he says, rising from the chair and pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’m going to pretend to work but probably sleep at my desk with my eyes open. Holler if you need me.”

“Hattie is rubbing off on you. You’re going to be saying y’all and bless your heart soon.” He laughs and waves as he leaves. I get through some emails and my phone buzzes again.

Rizzo: Hey

Don’t even think about it

Rizzo: That was an innocent, completely platonic hey, thank you very much!

I’m watching you, Thirst Trap…

I shiver thinking about the picture he sent last night…the one I definitely saved immediately and have looked at no less than fifty times this morning. I know he’s got a million across his various social media accounts, but none of them are quite this…thirst-inducing. And I’m not even talking about the X-rated ones. Those were also saved for, uh, research purposes.

Rizzo:

Rizzo: Gonna go to Shep’s later. You coming?

Yeah, me and Bobby were just saying we might bring them some food. I’ll text Hattie and coordinate.

Rizzo: Sounds good. See you later.

I laugh and decide it’s time for an early lunch. I need to find a dress for the organization Christmas party next week anyway, so maybe it’ll be a long lunch, actually. I idly wonder what kind of dress might catch Rizzo’s attention, but remind myself that it doesn’t matter because last night was the last night.

End of story.

The story apparently isn’t over.

We make out in the pantry at Shep’s place that afternoon, jerking away when Howey almost walks in on us.

“Are there more paper plates in here?” he asks, completely oblivious, thank God.

“Uh, yeah, I think they’re in that cabinet right there.” I nod and Rizzo leans down to open it up and pull out a stack of plates.

“Sweet. Thanks.”

“We have got to stop this,” I hiss quietly as soon as Howey is out of earshot, and Rizzo laughs.

“You started it!” I give him a level look and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok, so maybe I kind of started it when I tried to grab that bowl above your head and leaned my body up against yours…” I shudder at the memory, my hands already itching to pull him close to me again. What in the literal fuck is wrong with me? I can’t get enough of him. I can’t stop this pull between us. It’s like we’re magnets. Dangerous, stupid fucking magnets.

“Ok, I’m sorry. I’ll be on my best behavior for the rest of the evening.”

“You better,” I warn.

We might end up sexting again that night, but the next morning I wake up feeling like death and hooking up is the furthest thing on my mind.

Rizzo: Hey, you alright? Mac said you were sick.

I feel awful. Are you ok?

Rizzo: Yeah, I’m fine. Immune system of a horse.

Do horses have good immune systems?

Rizzo: IDFK but “healthy as a horse” is a saying for a reason, isn’t it? So, I’m going with yes, they have great immune systems.

Rizzo: Not the point. Focus, Morgan. Do you need anything?

I huff out a laugh.

No, I’m ok. Thanks.

An hour later, I hear my front door opening. Could be dad or Hattie—or someone breaking in, but at this point, they can take whatever they want. I don’t care. I couldn’t move to stop them even if I wanted to. To my utter surprise, it’s Rizzo who strolls into the living room, several shopping bags hanging from his arms. I blink in surprise and am suddenly very aware of how disgusting I must look. My hair is in a dirty, messy bun. I’d had a fever on and off all night and morning, so at many points I was a sweaty pile of gross. No make up. Old sweats…and embarrassingly, his Cornell Hockey hoodie that I stole that very first night. I may or may not wear it almost every night.

“What are you doing here?” I moan, trying to sit up. It takes a couple of tries and the room sways when I first make it upright, but eventually it levels out.

“Nursing you back to health, obviously,” he says from behind the couch, unpacking the bags and setting things on the counter. I turn to watch: at least eight different kinds of medicine, cough drops, candy, soup—chicken and stars, my favorite from when I was kid. My heart twists a little at the fact he remembered me telling him that one drunken night—Gatorades, orange juice, pretzels, and saltines.

“Jesus, Rizz,” I breathe, sounding stuffy and horrible.

“Well, I didn’t know exactly what was wrong, so I came prepared for anything. Where are your glasses and what are your symptoms? Also, I borrowed Mac’s key, I did not pick the lock, in case you were wondering.”

I huff out a laugh and point to the cabinet beside the fridge before giving him a rundown of what’s wrong. He nods, rummages through all the medicine boxes, and selects a winner. He comes around and squats down in front of the couch, handing me first the glass and then the meds.

“You didn’t have to do all this. What if I get you sick!” I protest, suddenly worried for his health. He arches a brow.

“You had your tongue down my throat yesterday afternoon. I’m pretty sure I would have already been compromised.” I can’t help but laugh at that, and he gestures for me to take the medicine. I roll my eyes but obey. The juice is cold and delicious and I’ll admit that I was thirsty as hell but was just too tired to get up for myself before now.

“Thank you,” I say after I drain nearly the entire glass. He takes it from me and sets it on the coffee table. His eyes dip to my—his—sweatshirt and his lips curl upward, but he doesn’t comment.

“Are you hot? Cold?”

“A little cold,” I admit. He grabs another blanket from the ladder in the corner and settles it over me. “Thanks, Rizzo. This is…it was really nice of you.”

“You’d do the same for me,” he shrugs. “But I would expect you to be in a slutty nurse costume. Just for future reference.” I can’t help but laugh and he gives me that easy, sexy smile that I love so much. I expect him to leave then but instead he slides onto the couch and settles my pillow in his lap.

“You don’t have to?—”

“What are we watching?” he asks, cutting me off and giving me a look that says there will be no arguing. He pats the pillow and waits. I sigh but lie back down. He tugs the blanket up over my shoulder and rests his hand there. I really shouldn’t be as happy as I am that he’s here and I’m trying really hard not to read too much into this. It’s just a friend helping a friend. Like he said, I would do the same for him, and if Shep hadn’t just gotten out of the hospital, I’m sure Hattie would be the one here doing all of this for me.

“Sleep, Nat. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And with that, I close my eyes and drift off in his lap.

“What the fuck am I doing?” I mutter to myself for the hundredth time as I walk down the sidewalk towards the high rise a few days later. “Stupid, stupid, stupid…”

Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m in the lobby and walking up to the security desk. This is never going to work.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” the young guy behind the desk asks. He’s got light brown skin, is ridiculously toned, with a diamond stud in one ear and a tattoo curling up one side of his neck. I think he’s the same one that was here the first time I was here, but can’t be completely sure. I was admittedly pretty distracted that night.

“Hi,” I say with a smile, putting on my best schmoozing voice. I learned from the best, and when I want something, I can usually get it. “I know this might sound a little crazy, but I’m actually here to see Anthony Rizzo. I’m a friend,” I add, making sure he doesn’t think I’m just a crazy fan…but then I realize of course a crazy fan would say that. “Seriously, we’re friends. See—” I show him my phone. My background photo is the Sin Bin hanging out on Shep’s back deck, and Rizzo has his arm thrown around both me and Bobby. The guy looks at the pic and nods, but I feel like I’m blowing this. I’m usually much better, but this whole thing with Rizzo has me all…flustered.

“So, anyway,” I look around and lean in, “I was hoping to surprise him, and I know that it’s probably against all kinds of rules but?—”

“Are you Natalie Morgan, by chance?” he asks and I snap my mouth shut, blinking.

“Um, yes?”

“Here you go, you’re all set.” He slides a black key card to me across the marble counter and smiles, showing off pearly whites and one dimple.

“He was…expecting me?” I ask, frowning.

“You’re on his approved visitor list,” he says and understanding hits. He probably puts all his booty calls on the list for easy access. Got it. I decide not to think about that too hard before I lose my nerve. I pull my coat tighter around me and grab the card, smiling at the man.

“He’s probably got a whole stack of these things back there, huh?” I say lightly.

He shakes his head. “No ma’am, just four—including Mr. Rizzo’s parents.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised.

He smiles at me, like he knows something I don’t, and I try not to look as confused as I am.

“Have a good evening, ma’am.”

“Uh, thanks. You too.”

I hurry to the elevators and use my card to access one of only two that will take me to the top floor. I tell myself to go right back down again a thousand times in the time it takes me to reach his floor, but I don’t. I need to see him. I need to touch him. I need to kiss him until I can’t breathe and I forget my own name and I can just pray that this will be the end of it. I’ll stop wanting him so damned badly after one more night. There’s so much we didn’t get to do before, that’s all, I tell myself. It’s just…curiosity.

It definitely isn’t the fact that I’m pretty sure I’m falling for him.

Before I lose my nerve, I march down the hall to his door and knock. I have no idea if he’s even home…and then another, awful idea floats into my mind, one I should have fucking thought about before now: what if he has another girl in there already.

“Shit,” I whisper, heat flooding my cheeks and my heart going triple time. I take a half step back, thinking this was a terrible idea and wondering how I could be so stupid, when the door finally opens. To my relief, he seems to be alone.

“Nat?” he asks, blue eyes full of surprise. My gaze travels down his body, and I wonder how he can possibly make something as casual as worn, holey jeans and a white t-shirt look so damn sexy. I yank my eyes back to his.

“Are you alone? Yes or no.”

“Yes?” he asks, brow furrowed. I sigh in utter relief.

“Not one fucking word,” I say sternly and his lips curl upward as I step forward and kiss him. He quickly wraps one arm around the small of my back, pulling me close. His other hand cups my cheek, the tips of his fingers tunneling in my hair. God I love when he does that . His lips quickly part mine, his tongue rolling and demanding. I push him backward into the apartment and he closes the door once I’m over the threshold, quickly pressing my body back against it, his lips never leaving mine. He moves closer, pushing the length of his body hard against mine, and I nearly whimper at the contact.

I’m officially off the wagon yet again. I’m not sure I’ll ever beat this addiction to him.

“I thought you liked when I talk?” he whispers against my lips before biting my lower one. I gasp and arch my hips against him. “When I tell you all the things I want to do to you…”

“Shut up,” I pant, pulling up on his shirt. He laughs and reaches back to tug it off over his head in that ridiculously sexy way guys do, and then my hands are on him, roving over every muscle and scar. He moans quietly as he traces kisses along my jaw and down my throat, reaching up to start unbuttoning my coat. I smile, wondering what he’s going to think when he sees my insane little surprise.

He freezes when he gets the last button free and parts my coat to reveal nothing but a very sexy—and expensive—black, lacy lingerie set paired with my thigh-high, lace-up heeled boots.

“ Nat ,” he breathes, stepping back to let his gaze slowly scan my body. He scrubs a hand across his jaw. “Is it my birthday?” I giggle and let my coat slip from my arms, reaching up to pull the clip from my hair to let it tumble down my back in big, loose curls. I don’t know what exactly had possessed me to enact this little plan, but I sure am glad I did. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so…enthralled. I lean back against the door and he continues to stare, his eyes drinking up every inch of me. I feel almost drunk from the pure desire in that look. He finally meets my gaze again and I barely stop a shiver.

“Surprised?” I ask in a voice that’s incredibly sultry and I’m not entirely sure belongs to me. Rizzo brings out this insane, confident, carnal part of me that I never knew existed. And I fucking like it. I have no reservations or fears with him. I feel completely comfortable with him in ways I never knew you could feel with a person. I’ve dated plenty, but I was always worried about what they might think or do, of what picture I was supposed to portray for the outside world. But with him, I can just be me, in every possible way.

Fuck.

I really think this means…no. No, I’m not ruining this night with big feeling revelations.

“I hoped you’d come,” he whispers. “I didn’t think you would, but I fucking hoped. And my God. This…” He runs his eyes up and down me again. “This is possibly the sexiest thing that’s ever happened in my life.”

“Well, then you better thank me properly.”

He slowly raises his gaze back to mine and a slow, sinful smile spreads across his face.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Hours later, we’re wrapped up in a blanket in his bed and I wonder how the fuck we ended up here again. Actually, I know exactly how we ended up here. I’m apparently basically just a horny teenager who can’t control myself. Fantastic.

We did everything we talked about in those text messages and then some, and I don’t think I can move at this point, let alone even think about going another round. He runs his fingers lightly up and down my spine and I don’t know that I’ve ever felt so relaxed or content.

“You know you called me AJ?”

“Hmm?”

“Before, while we were…you kept saying AJ instead of Rizzo.” I turn my head to look at him. “I liked it,” he says quietly, almost like it’s a confession. For whatever reason, ever since that phone call with his parents, he’s been AJ in my head. It’s like some secret that I only know and it makes me stupidly happy. I hadn’t really realized I’d said it out loud though.

“Well, I guess I took you up on your offer then,” I say with a sleepy grin. “To scream it while you did certain unholy things with that tongue of yours.” He chuckles and my eyes start to feel heavy. I could absolutely fall asleep right here in his arms, in his bed, which is a terrible idea, so I force them open and push up onto my forearms, looking around the room.

“You ready for the big move?” I ask, spying all the boxes lining the walls.

“As I’ll ever be, I guess. Movers come tomorrow actually. So, good timing. You might have surprised some other random person in lingerie and a trench coat if you’d waited until tomorrow night.”

“That would have been one hell of a welcome to the building.” He laughs lightly. “But you’re excited? For the new house, I mean. Not so much the actual act of moving and unpacking, that part is never fun. The pictures are gorgeous.” It’s around the corner from Shep’s place in their gated community, but out there around the corner means a couple of miles. Those lots are huge, each one ten plus acres, and the one he found is on the plus side of that for sure. The house isn’t ostentatious or ridiculous, and I think it actually fits his personality much better than this place. It’s like a modern hunting lodge, if that’s a thing, with a pool house, separate four car garage for all his toys, and an apartment above that. He joked that it’s going to be Ollie’s place for when she gets older and wants to run away from Shep’s house.

“Yeah, I really am. I love the house and I really love all the space. I haven’t lived in a house in my entire adult life, can you believe that?”

“Really?”

“Yep. Went from the dorms in college to all apartments from there. They were just easier. No upkeep or anything to worry about.” He sifts my hair through his fingers and I want to purr like a cat.

“So why now?”

He shrugs. “According to Shep, I’m maturing .” He says it like it’s the worst thing in the world and I snort. He smiles and sighs. “I think he’s right though. Not completely, of course, but I don’t know, I’m kind of tired of…” He waves his hand in the air, seeming to encompass the apartment but also his life in general. Does that include the random hook ups? I don’t know that I can believe he’d ever be ready to be done with all of that…no matter how much I might want it to be true.

“Well, I should get a prize or something, shouldn’t I?”

“For that miraculous blow job? Absolutely, baby. Prizes, trophies, medals. Sonnets written in your honor. Ships named for you. Ballads—” I jab him in the side, making him jerk away with a cute little squeal that makes me tilt my head, momentarily distracted. I perk up and he looks worried.

“Are you ticklish , AJ?”

“Don’t even think about it, Nat. I mean it,” he warns, holding out his hands in an attempt to stop me from leaping on top of him. It doesn’t work. I straddle him and grab his side again, and he starts laughing uncontrollably.

“St-stop…I…c-can’t breathe…Nat!” I giggle and then he shifts, moving so that I’m pinned beneath him. “That was entirely uncalled for,” he says, breathless.

“I will be telling the entire team your little secret,” I tell him with a grin. He swoops down and kisses me and I’m once again reminded how much fucking fun I have with him.

“So why do you deserve a trophy?” he asks, smiling and shifting so that he’s lying beside me, head dropped up on his upturned hand.

“I meant,” I say eyeing him, “for being the last hook up in the apartment. The end of a very epic era.” I say it lightly, teasing. I’m not jealous of his previous hook ups or anything—there would be no reason to be—but a small part of me wonders if he’s comparing me to them all in the back of his head, or thinking about one of them when he’s with me.

His expression turns a bit more serious. He reaches over and brushes my hair from my face, cupping my cheek.

“Nat, you’re the only girl that’s ever been here.” I blink, brow furrowing.

“What?”

“I never bring girls here. We go to their place or a hotel or…well, I’m not above public spaces, we’ll just say that. But not a single one has ever come to this apartment. It’s why Jerry was so shocked that first night when I told him to drive here .”

He stares at me with something I can’t name—or maybe I can, but I’m scared to, scared to hope that it’s what I think it is—and the weight of what he’s saying really settles over me.

And suddenly, I need to leave. I don’t think he can mean it the way I think he does, or the way I want him to, or the way he may even believe he does. I sit up and gently push his hand away. He frowns slightly and I search for my underwear, only to realize that it’s still in the living room. We hadn’t made it very far earlier before everything had been stripped off in a frenzy. I leap from the bed as if it’s electrified, not really understanding the panic rising in my chest, the walls slowly closing around my heart.

“I should get going,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm and even.

“It’s late, Nat. Why don’t you just?—”

“I can’t, AJ.” I say, feeling like I might cry or like my heart might burst through my chest. “I don’t know what this is, but you don’t mean it, not really. I know you and I know that you don’t want…this,” I say gesturing between us. “Not for anything more than what we just did.”

“That’s not true,” he says, sitting up and sounding upset.

“It is. You might think you want to try dating or whatever, but I know you’d end up regretting it and you’d resent me for being the one to make you do it and you’d probably end up cheating on me in the end and?—”

“Wow, so now I’m a cheating asshole, too? Thanks for that.” I can see the irritation setting over him, the relaxed contentment we were just sharing quickly fading. And I don’t blame him. That was probably a low blow and I have no reason to believe he’d do that, but I don’t know what the hell is going on or why I’m freaking out right now and saying shit that I shouldn’t. I keep saying that he can’t do monogamy or commitment, but hell, maybe it’s me . Maybe I’m the one who can’t handle this or is too scared to even try.

“And can you maybe stop telling me what I think or feel?” he adds, his voice harder than I’ve ever heard it. He rises from the bed and yanks up a pair of sweats from the floor, pulling them on. I head out into the living room, hating that I’m about to have to do the angry walk of shame in my stupid lingerie and coat, but here we are. It’s not like I thought to bring a change of clothes with me when I came up with this brilliant plan.

I tug on my boyshorts and bra, looking around for my boots when he comes into the room behind me.

“Nat, what hell is going on? Why are you being like this?”

“I don’t know,” I mutter honestly, dropping to my knees beside the couch to tug out one boot from beneath it. He walks over and holds out the other one to me and I take it, tugging them both on and lacing them up. He isn’t trying to stop me—not that I blame him. I’m acting like a mental case right now, even I can see it. I just completely flipped the switch for no real reason—but he watches with his arms crossed over his bare chest, jaw clenching and unclenching.

“Is it the other girls? I can be done with all that, Nat. I haven’t hooked up with anyone else since our first night together anyway, hand to God. I haven’t even wanted to.”

“Let’s just forget about it all, ok? We had fun, the sex was great, and we’re still friends. Let’s just quit while we’re ahead. For real this time, Rizzo.” He clenches his jaw.

“Back to Rizzo now?” He eyes me when I stand and pick up my coat, and shakes his head in irritation or annoyance or hurt—or a combination of all three. I don’t answer, so he goes on. “That’s really what you want?”

No.

“Yes.”

He grinds his teeth but nods.

“Alright, if that’s what you want. No more hook ups. Back to just being friends.”

I finish buttoning my coat and toss my hair up into a messy bun. I hold his gaze and clench my hands into fists when the back of my nose burns with tears.

“It’s for the best. Trust me.”

“Whatever you say, Nat.” The look on his face makes my chest twist painfully and a voice in the back of my head is screaming at me to knock it the fuck off and chill out, but I can’t.

I sigh, knowing that I’ve ruined everything, but I hope after a couple of days, we’ll be able to figure out how to just be friends again. I don’t want to lose that. I can’t lose that. I understand now why Hattie is so scared to tell Shep how she really feels. She’s too afraid to take a chance and possibly lose her best friend, one of the most important people in her life.

And that’s how I feel about AJ Rizzo. He’s somehow become one of my favorite people on the planet in just a few short months. When I see some stupid gif or meme online, I immediately want to send it to him. When I’m annoyed, he’s the person I want to vent to. When I’m lounging around on a random Sunday afternoon, he’s the one I want beside me on the couch, hogging the cover and stealing all the popcorn. When I’m sick, he’s the one I want taking care of me, just like he had the other day. I squeeze my eyes shut and force all of the thoughts to quiet.

“Bye, Thirst Trap,” I say quietly from the door, turning away quickly so he can’t see the tears starting to fall.