Sidelined (18 page)

A heavy arm is draped across my body, curled protectively over me, and the body spooning me is rock solid. I force my eyes open and nimbly scoot along the bed to see who’s behind me.

Briefly, I touch my fingers to my pounding forehead. God. I don’t even know whose bed I’m in.

It takes me a minute to turn my face toward the sleeping body, but when my eyes finally land on his face, I breathe out a long sigh of relief.

Jack.

And obviously we didn’t have sex, because my panties are still on.

Not sure how I feel about that.

I slide out from under his arm and sit up. Jesus, my head.
Tequila, you bitch.
I rub my hands over my face and look around for my clothes. My dress is in a crumpled heap on the floor in the corner of Jack’s room, and the idea of getting back into that is nauseating. After wincing as I stand, I tiptoe over to his dresser and quietly open each drawer until I find his T-shirts.

I pull one over my , tug it down so it skims the top of my thighs, and glance back at the bed. He’s still sleeping soundly, so I quickly leave the room, pulling the door shut behind me.

I didn’t get to see much of the upstairs level last time I was here since I was swiftly manhandled into his room, so I meander through the upstairs hall, peeking my head into each room. One bedroom is a mini gym, complete with a weight machine, treadmill, and a rowing machine. The other bedrooms are just plain guest rooms with minimal décor.

The master bath is at the end of the hall, and I stop in the doorway. In the center of the room is the biggest tub I have ever seen in my life. You could easily fit two people in it, and it’s so deep that, if I climbed in and sat in it, I don’t even think my head would be visible over the top of it. I bet it takes forever to fill.

I finally drag my eyes away from the huge tub to open the medicine cabinet above the sink and nose around. Well, I look for Tylenol or some aspirin. Upon finding the aspirin, I grab the cup from the side of the sink, rinse it, fill it, and take the pills. There’s also some toothpaste, so I squeeze a little on my finger and rub it across my teeth in a bid to kill my cottonmouth.

How much did I drink last night?

When I’m done, I head downstairs to the kitchen. The sun is beaming in through the large doors that lead onto the deck, and I frown at seeing my shoes next to the sprawling corner sofa. I shake it off and turn the coffee machine on.

Looking out the window, past the sofas on the deck, I can see exactly why Jack bought this house. I don’t know why I didn’t notice it before—aside from the fact that he fucked me after around five minutes in this house—but it’s incredibly relaxing. Even with the doors and windows shut, I can hear the crashing of the waves as they crawl up the beach.

I swallow and make my coffee, focused on the water. So much so that I don’t know that Jack is in the room until he’s behind me and his hands are on the counter, on either side of me, boxing me in.

“Mornin’.” His low, husky morning voice sends a tremor through me.

“Um, morning,” I say quietly.

“Thanks.” He grabs my mug and steps back.

“Hey!” I turn. “That was mine!”

Jack’s look says that he knows and just doesn’t give a shit. I huff and make another cup. His eyes stay on me the whole time, and I try to ignore the way my skin is almost burning under his gaze.

“How you feeling?”

“Like a donkey kicked me in the vagina,” I reply, turning around. “How did I end up back here last night?”

Jack’s brow furrows. “You don’t know?”

I shake my head then wince. “I don’t remember much past several shots after walking into Rapture. The rest is pretty much nonexistent.”

“Baby, you got in a cab with the girls, and when I got home, I found you curled up on the sofa on the deck.”

Ah. That explains the shoes.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. You really can’t remember anything?”

“No. Should I?”

Jack takes a deep breath. “Your ex followed you there last night.”

I choke on my coffee. “He did what?” I sputter between my coughs, my eyes bugging.

“Mitch followed you to Rapture last night, and unfortunately for him, so did I. And it’s a fucking good thing I did, because the way you were grinding your ass against him, the night probably would have ended very differently if I hadn’t.” His jaw tightens, and a pissed-off spark flashes in his eyes.

“Oh,” I say again, this time in a much smaller voice.

“I moved you away from him. You politely reminded me that the deal was no fucking other people and everything else didn’t count, downed several shots, and promptly returned to the dance floor.”

“Oh,” I whisper.

“Then he tried it again, this time with his fucking lips on your neck, so I dragged your drunk ass out of the club. You and I had some choice words for each other—something your ex apparently didn’t appreciate, so he decided he’d try and give me a black eye for my trouble.”

“Oh.” My hand covers my mouth and I stare at Jack.

“He didn’t count on me being completely sober and twice his size and strength.”

This time, my lips just form the word
oh
behind my hand.

“Then you left.”

Oh.

“Then, like I said, I came home, found you asleep on the sofa outside, and carried you upstairs. You woke up, whispered some garbled bullshit I couldn’t understand, sniffed a few times, then pulled your dress over your head and climbed into my bed.”

Oh.

“I’m…sorry?” I say hesitantly.

He raises his eyebrows.

I slump against the bar. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, Jack. Now that you’ve reminded me, I vaguely remember someone dancing behind me, but I don’t think I had any idea who it was. And if I had known it was Mitch, I would have kicked him.” I frown.

“Baby, I don’t care about that. What pissed me off is that, even after I told you he was the guy dancing with you, you didn’t stop to think that it would be a good idea to stay close to me so he wouldn’t come near you again. No, you basically told me that, if you wanted to go and suck some other guy’s dick, you could.” His eyes are hard, and as he approaches the bar and slams his hands on it, the muscles in his arms ripple and tighten. Hell, so do the muscles in his chest and stomach. “And
that
,” he says tightly, drawing my eyes from his stomach back up to meet his, “is not fucking okay, Macey.”

I don’t think he’s ever called me Macey before. I have a bad feeling about the direction this conversation is taking, and I feel very much like a kid who got caught one too many times with her hand in the cookie jar.

“So I’m gonna spell it out for you, babe, since you seem to be a little murky on the other-people boundaries.” Jack leans closer. “No kissing, groping, sucking, licking, stroking, caressing, grinding, grabbing, or fucking other people. Clear?”

I finish my coffee and slam the mug down. “Why don’t you just call yourself my boyfriend and be fucking done with it?”

“Because the moment I call myself your boyfriend, under your rules, is the moment this ends. And I like my cock in your mouth far too much for this to be done just yet.”

Goose bumps coat my skin at this husky words, and desire pounds through my bloodstream. Damn. Even when he’s telling me off, he’s sexy. How is that fucking possible?

“Fuck you.”

“You offerin’?”

“You wish.” I turn away from him and head upstairs. His words might have turned me on, but they pissed me off, too.

“Wishes come true, y’know.”

I stop at the bottom of the stairs and glare at him. “Not in my world, they don’t.”

M
acey storms up the stairs like she has a rocket up her ass and elephants under her feet. My lips twitch at her defiance, but my blood is still boiling from last night.

Seeing her dancing with him shouldn’t have bothered me. I know that. I’m not fucking stupid. We’re having sex, yeah, but I also have this crazy-ass need to keep him the hell away from her. And in a situation like last night, where he had his hands and his mouth on her, it’s gonna bother the shit out of me.

Which is exactly why I dragged her away from him. Twice.

Yet if I had any sense at all, I’d put Macey in a cab and tell her that we’re done. I don’t have the time—or the inclination—to deal with her ex. I know that, as soon as I walk into the stadium for the game tomorrow, Coach is gonna tear me a new asshole, even though the fight with Mitch wasn’t my fault.

But I can’t. Despite her “fuck you” attitude and hard shell, I’ve seen the other side of Macey. Shit, she showed it to me last night when we fought and she told me that I’m the only guy outside of her family she trusts. Her words were a drunken ramble, sure, but her eyes were fully focused as they told me that she meant every word she was saying.

She doesn’t even know she said it.

The sound of running water upstairs makes me pause at the same time a knock on my door does. I walk to the door and unlock it before opening it to Leah.

“Hey,” she says softly. “I brought Macey some stuff. Like clothes and things.”

“Thanks,” I reply, taking the bag from her. “I was going to take her home soon.”

“Don’t.” Her eyes widen. “Mitch’s car is parked outside with him in it. He obviously knows she isn’t there, but I think he’s assuming she’s at my mom’s since I went in and came out with her stuff.”

“Right. Thanks, Leah. Could you maybe swing by her place later and see if that asshole is still there? I don’t want her going back there if he is.”

“Sure. I packed her enough for tonight when I saw that he was there.” She smiles. “How is she?”

“So hungover that she had no idea what happened last night until I told her.”

“Yeah, I was kinda fuzzy on the details until Corey explained everything.” Leah half frowns. “Although, I’m kinda pissed he came after you and you guys stole my thunder. I was going to kill him.” She laughs. “Other than being hungover, is she okay?”

“She’s a giant fucking pain in my ass, so we can correctly assume she’s just fine.” I smirk.

“There is so much truth in that statement.” Leah grins. “I’ve gotta get back, but tell her I’ll call her later, okay? And I’ll text you when Mitch is gone.”

“Sure. Bye, Leah. Thanks!” I shut the door and turn to the stairs. I carry Macey’s bag up into my room and throw it onto my bed.

I push the bathroom door open just in time to see Macey step out of the shower. My eyes drop to her tits, where water droplets are trailing down her chest and over them before dropping off her nipples. My gaze travels downward, across her stomach, to where yet more water runs over the mound of her pussy and disappears between her legs, and my cock throbs with the desire to shove her back into the shower so I can lick every last fucking bit of water off her skin.

“Privacy is appreciated,” she snaps, wrapping a towel around her body.

“Doesn’t exist in this house, babe.” I look up at her. “Leah just came around with some things for you.”

“She did?” Macey frowns and pushes past me into the bedroom.

“Yeah. Apparently, Mitch is stalking your apartment.” I follow her in and sit on the bed, my back against the headboard. “So it looks like you’re stayin’ here for another night.”