All the Way Page 16

  As if on cue, Owen emerges from the crowd. “Becca, can we please talk?”

  It’s his second time asking tonight. He must know he has some explaining to do. My gaze shifts nervously between Elise and Owen, my thumb nervously fiddling with the zipper on my jacket.

  “Do you want to talk to him?” Elise asks, tugging me aside so we’re out of Owen’s earshot. “I can drag you to the bathroom with me or sneak you out of here, if you want.”

  I crack a smile at her offer. Elise really is a good friend.

  Suddenly, I feel awful that I kept everything from her. She knows him better than anyone. She could have listened, offered insight, something. Now I’m in this huge mess, and it’s up to me, and me alone, to sort through it.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got this under control,” I tell her. “I’ll talk to him.”

  Now I just have to figure out what the hell I’m going to say.

  19

  * * *

  Last Time-Out

  Owen

  Becca is pissed at me, that much is obvious. She looks like temptation and sin all wrapped up in the sweetest package I’ve ever laid eyes on. But based on the bitter expression on her face, it’s a package I may never get to unwrap again.

  When the guys dragged me here after the game tonight, I’ll be honest, I didn’t put up much of a fight. I’ve had a lot on my mind recently, and losing to a team we should have beat definitely didn’t help clear things up.

  “We need to talk,” I say to Becca, my tone firm. When my sister flashes me a worried look, I wave off her concern. “This is between Becca and me.”

  Elise raises her eyebrows and takes a step back. “Okay, but if you do anything to upset Becca, you’re a dead man.”

  “Understood.” I swallow, feeling a little lost. I hate the idea that I’ve hurt Becca—it’s the one thing I vowed not to do, yet here we are.

  Elise walks away, rejoining Justin and the others at the edge of the dance floor, about thirty feet away from our table. Not far, but at least we’re out of earshot.

  Turning toward her, I say, “Becca—”

  “It looks like you were having fun tonight.” Her shoulders are pulled back and her eyes are scanning the dance floor as she speaks.

  She won’t even look at me. Won’t meet my eyes. That hurts way more than I thought it would.

  “Not really,” I say, raising my voice over the music.

  Becca’s hurt eyes meet mine once, just briefly, and something inside me crumples. I can see in her expression that something is wrong. Majorly wrong.

  The pulsing music is too loud for us to have this conversation here. We need to be someplace quiet if I have any chance of apologizing properly.

  “Come outside with me,” I plead. “I can’t hear myself think in here.”

  She relents, giving me a small nod before following me. We’re both quiet on the short walk through the club and down the back hallway that leads to the emergency exit. I have special privileges to park my SUV behind the building—a perk of being on the team, I guess.

  Becca sways the slightest bit on the uneven pavement, and my hand shoots out to steady her. But at the last second, I pull it away. I’m not sure she wants me touching her right now. And knowing I may have lost that privilege for good stings deeply.

  I hit a button on my key fob to unlock the doors and pull open the passenger side door for Becca, waiting while she climbs inside. After shutting her door, I cross around the front and then get in beside her. It’s dark and completely quiet now—a huge contrast to the thumping noise and flashing lights inside the club. It takes a moment for my senses to adjust.

  Inside the dimly lit interior, I turn toward Becca. She smells like lavender and bodywash. God, I want to kiss her.

  “Care to tell me what that was, angel?” I ask softly, and I can’t stop myself from scanning her from head to toe.

  Her head whips around toward mine. “What are you talking about?”

  “Showing up here, dressed all sexy, dancing like that.”

  “Are you kidding me right now? You had some girl hanging all over you, and you want to talk about what I’m wearing? Wow, you are an asshole.” Her tone is sharp and filled with disbelief.

  “Becca . . .” My throat is dry, and Christ, I’m really not good at this. Though, in my defense, I never claimed to be.

  This is why I don’t do complications or relationships, fuck, anything that lasts more than a couple of hours. I’m Owen Parrish . . . number twenty-two, star goalie, playboy extraordinaire . . . and I’m known for an easy good time that ends after one night.

  I have no idea how to navigate the complicated dynamics of this relationship I’ve found myself in. And I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to see what’s right in front of me, but yeah, this is definitely a relationship. Another thing I’m realizing in this moment—I’m nowhere near ready for it to be over.

  Tears well in her gorgeous blue eyes, and she blinks them away almost as quickly as they appeared. “You know what, never mind, forget it. I can’t do this.”

  Her fingers clutch the door handle, fumbling once before pulling it open. The overhead light illuminates the interior, and I touch Becca’s arm.

  “Look at me,” I say, and when she does, the hurt in her eyes cuts me even deeper. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “You were right about one thing, Owen,” she starts, voice steady. “I’m not a coward, but you are. I faced my fears and came out stronger on the other side. Meanwhile, you’re still living with the false narrative that you’re a playboy who’s good for nothing more than what you can do with a stick.” Her tone is angry, biting, but worse than that, I worry that every accusation she hurls at me is true.

  I swallow, feeling unsure and totally empty.

  But Becca’s not done. “Somewhere along the way, I figured out that you were so much more than that. You took care of me, did everything right. I trusted you, and yeah, I guess I shouldn’t have trusted you with my heart along with my body. But I did. I gave it to you, and you took it. All of it. And now you’re going to pretend like you’re incapable of love and this whole thing was just some meaningless fling? Well, fuck you, Owen Parrish.”

  My eyes burn. My fucking throat burns. I want to cry. Which makes no sense because I don’t fucking cry. Not even when my team lost the championship. Not ever.

  Her hand is on the door handle again.

  “Becca, wait.”

  She’s practically shaking, she’s so pissed at me. And she has every right to be.

  “I don’t want to lose you. The only girl I’m interested in is you.”

  She lets out a shaky breath but doesn’t move. She doesn’t pull away from me, but she doesn’t close the door either, so I continue.

  “I have no idea how to be a good boyfriend. Literally, no idea. I’ve never done exclusivity before. But I want to do this for real with you.”

  The tears are back, and this time, one slips down her pale cheek. I reach across the console and wipe it away with my thumb.

  “Say something, Becca. Yell at me if you have to, tell me to fuck off again, but please just say something.”

  “Wow, you really do suck at this, don’t you?” she says in a biting tone, her lips curling up in a smirk.

  I can’t help but laugh. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Just tell me how to fix it.”

  She shakes her head, heaving out a small sigh. “First, you need to start by explaining yourself tonight. I texted you. You didn’t reply. And then I get here and see you letting a girl hang all over you?”

  I nod somberly. “You’re completely right. Teddy and Asher wanted to go out. They texted Sara and all the girls, and when we talked this morning, you said you were thinking of staying in tonight. I was going to call you later. And for the record, I had zero interest in that girl. I asked her to stop touching me several times. You can ask Teddy.”

  She scoffs. “There are ways to extract yourself, Owen. Just walk away. Do you
know how it felt to walk inside that club and see a woman all over you?”

  “No. Fuck. You’re right. I’m sorry.” I rub one hand over the back of my neck. “I messed up tonight, didn’t I?”

  She nods, finally deciding to close the car door all the way, plunging us back into darkness. “You did. But . . .”

  I look over toward her, raising my eyebrows as a surge of hope rocks through me. “But?”

  She smiles briefly as she meets my eyes. “All might not be lost. I think you were in the middle of saying something about being exclusive . . .”

  Reaching over the center console, I take her hand in mine, squeezing it tightly. “I want that. With you, Becca. Just us. No one else. And not just the bedroom stuff either—I want it all—coffee dates and movie nights and introducing you to my folks.”

  She gives my hand a small squeeze. “In that case, I’ll need to lay down some ground rules.”

  I give her a curious look. “Such as?”

  “The first rule of being exclusive means no puck bunnies . . .”

  She hardly gets the whole sentence out before I’m chuckling. “Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”

  Becca gives me a pointed look.

  “I promise. I’ll be good.”

  She relents, her lips tilting up in a half smile. “I’m not sure if I should trust you, but I do.”

  “I’ve never lied to you. And I’m serious—you’re all I want. Just you.” And I mean it. There’s not a woman alive who could tempt me away from her. “I’m just going to kiss you now,” I say, moving closer.

  Becca lets out a soft sigh and I lift her chin, leaning over as I guide her mouth to mine in a slow kiss. It starts out tender, but when her lips part and her tongue touches mine, heat shoots down my spine, and I feel an urgent twitch behind my zipper.

  I pull back, our mouths still hovering just inches apart. “I still can’t believe you showed up looking like a smoke show for all those guys to see. I wanted to beat all their asses just for looking at you.”

  She makes a small noise of disapproval. “Stop being jealous.”

  Tucking her hair behind her ear, I meet her eyes. “I’m not jealous, I’m protective. Jealous is when you want something that’s not yours. Protective is looking after what’s yours already.”

  Her eyes fill with tears again, but this time, I think they’re happy tears. “Owen . . .”

  We kiss again, and it’s sweet and affectionate and unrushed.

  “Are you ready to get out of here? I can take you home.”

  Becca nods. “Let’s go.”

  Thank God. I can’t wait one more minute to be alone with her.

  I see her thumbs working to type out a text to Elise—which is probably a good thing since I’m pretty sure my sister was minutes away from organizing a hit on me.

  When we arrive at Becca’s place, she invites me in, and we end up on the couch, kissing. It feels so good to have her in my arms, even if my body is getting a lot of other ideas about how we can celebrate our new exclusive relationship.

  “Does this mean we’re going to have make-up sex?” she asks, a hopeful lilt to her voice.

  Well, that clears up any uncertainty I had.

  I chuckle, pulling her close. “Fuck yeah, we are. Think you can handle it?”

  Her hand drifts between us, squeezing, stroking me until I let out a long groan. “Bring it, twenty-two.”

  Once inside my room, Becca pushes me back onto the bed where I land with a soft thud.

  I grin at her as she pulls her dress off over her head.

  All those full, gorgeous curves and soft skin make my heart beat faster. So does the way she crawls forward to straddle my lap. Her newfound confidence is beyond sexy.

  “What’s your plan here, angel?”

  “Uh-uh.” She shakes her head. “You’re calling the plays tonight.”

  A smile twitches on my lips as I gaze down at her. She knows about my need for control, and it seems she’s handing me proverbial hockey stick, telling me to take my shot. After the emotional night we shared with our tempers running hot, I’m not going to try and pretend we don’t need this. We do. We both do.

  I touch her cheek, my thumb lingering on her lower lip as my eyes meet hers. “Take out my cock. I want you to suck it.”

  Clever fingers make quick work of my belt and then she’s shoving down my pants and drawing out my aching erection.

  I pull her in for a hot kiss, sucking on her tongue while Becca brings one hand between us, stroking. I thrust into her fist while her tongue flirts with mine, and my entire body is practically vibrating with need by the time she crawls down my lap.

  Her mouth lowers and treats the head to a firm suck that makes my toes curl.

  “Fuck,” I curse, burying one hand in her hair.

  Becca smiles, her tongue coming out to tease. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I echo. My entire body shudders at the feel of her hot, wet tongue lapping at me. “All of it,” I growl.

  Becca closes her mouth over me and then slides lower making a great effort to accommodate me. My cock pulses in her mouth and I let out a low groan.

  Hot, filthy commands fall from my lips, but so do many other things I can barely process. Words like beautiful and damn and don’t stop are groaned out in harsh pants. The wet, sucking sounds she makes as she picks up speed almost do me in.

  Clenching my jaw, I fight for control, but I can’t look away, can’t stop myself from watching her put on the most erotic show. Licking my straining shaft like it’s an ice cream cone, flicking her tongue along the swollen tip, all while making the most unbelievable noises.

  Gripping me in her hand, she strokes slowly up and down, base to tip while her mouth continues doing dirty, wet things.

  Without my permission, my hips move forward, fucking her mouth in heavy, uncoordinated thrusts like I’d fantasized about in the shower yesterday with my fist around my cock. But the reality is so much better. She’s hot and wet, and oh God ... moaning—the breathy murmured sounds of pleasure make my balls tingle with my impending release.

  My heart is racing, and if I was gone for this girl before, now I’m lost.

  The unwelcome, foreign thought that I could have gone my entire life without someone who made me feel all the things that Becca does passes through my brain. She brings out a side to me I never knew existed.

  Protective.

  Possessive.

  Territorial.

  Loving.

  That’s the last conscious thought I have before I begin to lose it.

  “Baby... I’m gonna come...” I groan, pulse pounding through my veins.

  Becca responds with her own low moan, devouring me all through my throbbing release.

  Then she smiles, bringing one hand to her lips. “Holy hell, that was…”

  “My turn,” I growl, tossing her onto the bed beside me where she lands with a soft giggle.

  20

  * * *

  Seeing It Through

  Becca

  There’s no better view to wake up to than Owen Parrish tangled up in my sheets. Especially because now he’s not just my friend with benefits. He’s mine. My boyfriend.

  Is this real life?

  If I heard Owen correctly last night during our little heart-to-heart in his car, we are officially a couple. No more deals between friends to help me gain confidence in the bedroom. No more wondering if Owen is off seeing other people when he’s not picking up his phone.

  Owen Parrish is my boyfriend. And as long as it doesn’t turn out to be some tequila-fueled dream, consider me over the freaking moon.

  After two rounds of make-up sex kept us up until early this morning, I crashed in Owen’s arms before I even had a chance to take all my makeup off, as evidenced by the dark mascara blotch on my pillow. But Owen doesn’t seem to mind the smeared mascara under my eyes. As he stretches his muscles, his tired eyes come to life when his gaze meets mine.

  With a sleepy hum, he pulls m
e into his arms and presses a gentle kiss against the nape of my neck. “Good morning, sunshine. How’d you sleep?”

  “Like a baby. You wore me out, Parrish.”

  He squeezes me a little tighter. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  We lie like this for a moment longer before the grumble of Owen’s stomach against my back insists that it’s time to get up and feed the beast.

  “Do you have time to stay for breakfast?” I ask, already knowing the answer is no. The alarm clock on my bedside table says eight thirty, meaning he’s got to be on the ice and ready to run drills in less than an hour.

  “I wish, gorgeous. I’ll have to grab something quick or I’ll be late.” He must feel me tense in his arms, because his voice suddenly turns serious as he turns me over, capturing my gaze in his. “I’m sorry, Becs. You know I wish I could stay.”

  I nod, blinking. “I know. I’m just no good at good-byes.”

  A smile tugs at his lips as he cups my cheek in his hand. “This hardly counts as a good-bye. Besides, you’ve got somewhere to be too, remember? Aren’t you grabbing coffee with Elise?”

  Oh, right. I almost forgot that Elise texted me on our way back last night, asking if she and I could meet up for coffee today.

  It doesn’t take a detective to figure out what that means. We’re finally going to have the conversation I’ve been avoiding for weeks. I’m going to have to admit to my best friend what’s been going on with me and her brother.

  I hold my breath, waiting for the nervous knot to form in my stomach, but surprisingly, it doesn’t happen.

  Huh. I’ve been worrying about telling Elise the truth for so long, but now that she knows, it’s not so nerve-racking after all. Maybe it’s the relief of not having to keep a secret anymore. Or maybe it’s the fact that Owen and I are official, instead of trying to fool anyone into thinking we’re just friends. Including ourselves.

  Lifting my chin with the tips of his fingers, Owen presses a quick kiss against my lips, leaving me with one last set of goose bumps before he climbs out of my bed.