Playing Fate (Endgame Series Book 1) (17 page)

I obey him and am rewarded by his face buried between my legs. “Oh God,” I groan. His tongue and lips devastating my clit; he’s licking, swirling and pressing his tongue against my nub never allowing me to get used to one sensation. His fingers snake down my stomach and enter me as he nibbles and flicks my clit.

I feel him at my entrance, and his fingers leave me as he enters me slowly allowing me to feel every inch. His hands grip my hips holding me in place as he destroys me. In and out, hard and fast, soft and rough. It’s all too much, and I come hard, milking his cock as he climaxes. “Damn, baby. That was hot.” I collapse on my stomach, too drained to give him the confirmation he doesn’t need. He’s rendered me stupid, and I’m okay with that.

Hell week. That’s what the guys call it. “Shit gets serious.” Mason complains as he lowers himself to the couch. Practices longer, workouts tougher, muscles in constant aches and pains. I spend plenty of nights rubbing Deacon’s shoulders and back, and I’m paid in orgasms. I think I’m the winner.

“And you love this?” I ask them because that’s just stupid.

“Every second.” All three sigh with a content smile.

Our routines don’t always sync, but we spend a lot of time together. I miss him the nights I’m not with him, but it’s good for us. We don’t need to suffocate one another this early—and I’m scared he’ll get tired of me. I reach for my journal, hoping to be able to unleash these doubts . . . erase them. It’s bookmarked to my last page, and I read the words.

Shortstop,

You told me you couldn’t write because you wanted to tell me. So do it. Pick up your phone and type it to me. Call me and utter the words. Don’t internalize and shut me out, open up and let me help.

Deacon

Fuck, could he get more perfect? I smile as I pen my return letter.

Deacon,

You need sleep, so I’ll write to you this way. You came into my life when I wasn’t looking or expecting it. You’ve driven me crazy, made me happy, and scared the hell out of me. I distance myself sometimes so you don’t tire of me. My dad was that way. For years everything was great, then he left. He was amazing at being a dad then quit. You’re amazing at being a boyfriend, and I’m worried you’ll quit on me one day.

XOXO,

Saylor

I close my journal and rush to his door, dropping it on the stoop, hoping it doesn’t rain. I’m suddenly relaxed and drained, ready for sleep. Honesty—who knew it could heal you—

Her journal blows my mind. The pain she feels, the doubts she lives with—it’s palpable. It shreds me.

Saylor,

I don’t see myself tiring of you. I reach for you when you’re not here. I smile when I think of you. I ache when I can’t feel you.

You can officially have my man card. You’ve ruined me. You’re my weakness, and I only hope to be your strength.

Trust me. Let me prove you wrong.

Deacon

In hindsight, I shouldn’t have put the journal on the table because Mason is in tears as he reads it. He leaves without a word and comes back ten minutes later with a box of tampons. “These should hold you over—UNTIL YOU FIND YOUR BALLS.”

“Fuck you, Mason. If you knew the shit she’s dealt with, you’d rethink busting my balls.”

“What balls?”

“The ones I’m going to drag across your forehead when I knock your ass out. She didn’t grow up like us.”

He looks puzzled. “I know she’s here on scholarship, but I didn’t think she had to be.”

“She doesn’t. It’s deeper. For a long time it was just her and her mom.” Caden comes in and sits down, and I continue. “Her dad left when she was eleven. She says overnight he became a different person. I guess they were close when she was younger, but he disappeared from her life. She spent some time with him, but he wasn’t there. She felt like a burden, an afterthought, and it broke her heart. Two years later, he died, and she never got answers. She wants to know what changed. Her parents never divorced, and he carried a mountain of debt, so they had to move in with her grandparents. At thirteen, she had to pack up her life and move across the country. I don’t think she’s ever recovered. Her mom worked three jobs at times to make ends meet and pay off the debt. Saylor has worked odd jobs since and saves every penny. It’s her umbrella. Her security blanket.”

“Shit,” Caden reacts.

“Yeah, so quit riding my ass.” I glare at Mason.

“What does this have to do with you being a pussy?”

“I won’t let you read her letters, but she’s afraid I’m going to get tired of her. Her mom is remarried, and Jack, her stepdad, has money, but she doesn’t trust it. She doesn’t trust relationships—in any form. Y’all are still referred to as
my
friends. She’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“What can we do?” He finally understands.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s a trust building exercise, and she’s going to put us through the paces. Nothing is easy with her.” They nod, in total agreement.

She came home with me for Thanksgiving. It took my mom calling her, Avery riding her ass, and me pretty much kidnapping her. She’s outside on the phone with her mom and stepdad, and I can’t stop staring.

“You are so whipped.” Mason chucks a roll at my head.

“Mason Adler. Pick that up and knock it off.” His mom yells, and my mom follows suit by throwing a green bean at him.

“Get that, too.” My mom chuckles.

“Our parents are whacked.”

“You whacked what last night?” My dad comes in at the tail end of the conversation. Mason shakes his head and ignores him. Smart choice. I think my dad is a forty-something year old stuck in ninth grade sex-ed class. No wonder I have a kid. Julie is being passed to everyone like she’s a doll, and she is eating it up. Caden is hogging her now, and his mom looks like she’s ready to kick his ass . . . typical gathering here.

Saylor is being quiet, and I don’t know if she misses her family or if she’s uncomfortable. “Mom,” I motion for her to meet me in the hallway.

“What’s up?”

“Can you make Saylor feel welcome?”

“Of course. I didn’t think we needed instructions. What’s wrong with you, Deacon?”

I shrug. “I don’t want her feeling awkward. She tends to retreat into herself.”

“You like her, huh?”

“I thought that was obvious.”

“It is. I just needed confirmation. With my age, my eyesight isn’t what it used to be.” I roll my eyes. “I think I love her, Deacon. She’s giving you something you haven’t had in a while . . . a challenge.”

“Yeah, ‘cause fatherhood is so easy,” I drone.

“There is something about her I adore. Treat her right.” She warns me.

“I’m trying.”

“She fits in. She and Mason kill me, and your dad is crushing on her the way she handles him.” I shake my head. “Julie searches for her when she’s in the room.”

“I know. Part of me is scared shitless. I don’t want her to think I’m looking for a mom for Julie. The other part loves it, and Saylor acts like she’s fine with it.”

“Son, anyone you get involved with needs to love Julie. I see she does, and you need to accept it. Don’t overthink it.”

“I’m trying.”

“This is all new. There’s going to be growing pains. Just go with it.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

She hugs me, “Anytime, Son. Happy Thanksgiving. I’m proud of you.”

“Love you.” I kiss her cheek and go outside to bring Saylor a jacket, she looks like she’s freezing. Plus, I just want to be near her, I know she’s struggling with everyone here. She doesn’t adapt when she’s out of her element and tends to hide.

“Okay, Mom. That sounds good, and I’ll let you get me a plane ticket as a Christmas present.” Her eyes close, and her mouth is in a grim line. She has serious issues with spending money or allowing others to spend it on her.

“I don’t want to spend the entire break there. I’ll need a week or so here to prepare for next semester.” Shit. I should have talked to her about Christmas plans.

“Yeah, it’s busy. We’ll be gearing up for finals in the next few weeks.”

“I am studying.”

Pause.

“Yes, I’m having fun.”

Her eyes meet mine, and she winks. I waggle my eyebrows because fun doesn’t aptly describe what we’ve been doing. “Mom, I need to go. I’m at Deacon’s, and it’s rude to be on the phone.” She rolls her eyes. “Yes, Deacon is my boyfriend. The one I told you about.” I smile, knowing she’s shared us with her mom. “I will wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving. Go enjoy your day with Jack.” Her foot begins to tap in annoyance. “Love you, too. Talk to you soon.” She ends the call and huffs in frustration.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I walk to her and bundle her in the jacket I brought for her.

“She sounds so happy. They’re in Tennessee at a cabin Jack rented for the week.”

“Why is that a bad thing?” She looks down and sighs. “Saylor, not everything ends. Not everything is doomed from the start. Relax and let her enjoy finding love again.”

“I want her to be happy. I do, but I don’t know how she can just let go of the past. It’s like she’s forgetting everything she struggled with.”

“No, she isn’t. She’s worked through her feelings; she made the choice to move forward. It’s one I want you to work on.”