All Lined Up

Chapter 24 Dallas

Kissing Carson McClain has officially become my favorite hobby.

His lips are soft even though he kisses me hard. I curl my legs around him, and a masculine noise of approval sounds in his chest. I thread my fingers through his hair, and my blood is rushing so fast that my limbs feel both light and heavy at the same time.

His lips leave mine to slide over my jaw, and the rasp of his stubble sends shivers down my spine. His elbows rest on either side of me, and his hands slide under me to curl around my shoulders. The heat of his breath touches my neck before his lips do, and I grip his hair tight.

I lean my head to the side to give him more room, and his lips burn a line down to my collarbone. Then he dips lower, down to the top of my strappy camisole. His hands smooth from my shoulders down to my ribs as he skims his lips over the curve of my breast peeking just above the fabric. He places a kiss on my sternum, and I shift my hands from his hair to the bare skin of his shoulders.

“Carson,” I breathe.

His eyes lift to mine, hooded, dark, and questioning. I don’t know what I was planning to say or that I had anything to say at all. I just needed to say his name. I let my fingertips travel down his back as far as they can reach, playing over the taut muscles and warm skin.

He surges back up to take my mouth in a bruising kiss, shifting to lie beside me as he does. When his hand slides along the waistband of my yoga pants, I’m not sure whether I want to lock up or arch into his touch.

He pulls back to look at me, and though I’m mildly terrified, I don’t close my eyes. His gaze roams my face as his fingers slide beneath the fabric into a territory we’ve not covered yet.

He’s slow, waiting for me to say no, I think. But no matter how many pieces of me want to say no, there are far more begging me to say yes.

His fingers slide against me, teasing sensitive flesh. He pushes one long finger into me, grinding the heel of his hand down at the same time, and I dig my nails into his muscled shoulders. I tilt my hips up, moving on his finger, and he moans.

“God, Dallas, if you only knew how much I wanted you.”

I slip a hand between us, finding the hard ridge of him through the fabric of his shorts, and he hisses out a breath.

“I’ve got some idea.”

His mouth covers mine—wild and hot and greedy—and he bites down on my bottom lip at the same time that his finger curls inside of me. I arch up, lost in the sensation, and his mouth moves down to my chest. I feel another graze of his teeth and squeeze his length in response.

“Oh fuck, baby.” His gruff words, spoken against the sensitive skin of my breast, make the heat between my legs turn molten.

This . . . this I can handle. His sure, sensuous touch. Tendrils of a new kind of trust.

I pull him up to me for another kiss, and together we spend time exploring, touching, and tasting before exhaustion takes us.

IN THE WEEK before the team’s next game, the entire university transforms. There’s red and black everywhere—banners and T-shirts and signs and sidewalk chalk. The energy is electric and powerful, and I can see the way it changes Carson. He’s tired. He’s been putting in crazy hours all week—on the field and with his tutors. I’ve spent almost every night at his apartment because otherwise, I’m not sure I’d get to see him. But even through the fatigue, he wears a constant smile, and I think that finally he’s beginning to believe in himself.

It’s our last game before homecoming, and then we’ve got three away games in a row. When the buzzer sounds and we’ve won by fourteen, the student section of the stadium pours down from the bleachers, and fills the field with red and black. Some overzealous fans make a dash for the goal posts, but the crew is already busy collapsing them before they can get there. Instead, everyone just stands there screaming and shouting like we’ve won a national championship.

It’s not that. But it is an upset, and not by a small margin either. It’s a solid win, and the fans aren’t the only ones that are ecstatic. I stay in the stands because I still haven’t told Dad about Carson, but I watch him on the field. He smiles widely, sharing crushing hugs with player after player before finally my dad stands in front of him.

It’s not the team’s first win, but it’s Carson’s, and that seems more important.

Dad slaps a hand on his padded shoulder, and they talk for a few moments before they hug like all the rest.

I decide that I’m telling Dad this week. I need to if I want to road-trip with Stella to the next away game.

I expect to meet Carson at his apartment again, but he texts asking if I’d be open to going to a party, and I say yes because he’s earned the right to celebrate. I tell Stella and she’s all over it, dragging us back to our dorm to get prettied up.

Even though it’s chilly outside, I pull on a formfitting purple dress. It has long sleeves, and I decide on some black tights and my black leather jacket to go with it. I leave my hair down because I know Carson likes it like that, and I put on a little more makeup than normal.

Stella whistles. “Damn, girl.” I take that as her approval. She drives to the party, and in the car on the way she says, “I’m going out on a limb and saying you’re going home with Carson tonight.”

I nod. We haven’t talked about it, but all the energy of this week and the win has me anxious to touch him, to soak up the way he makes me feel.

“So are y’all just giving up the whole incognito thing?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I was going to talk to him about it tonight.”

“What do you think your dad will say?”

“He’ll be pissed. You remember how long it took him to be okay with me dating Levi, and he loved him. I think, though, after the whole drug thing, that he’s even more wary. But Carson is a good guy, and Dad likes him, and I think as long as I ease him into it that he’ll be fine. Eventually.”

“Good luck, sister.”

The party is at a house where a few teammates all live together, and as soon as we enter, I can see Stella sizing up the room.

I laugh. “Good luck to you, too.”

Hands on her hips, she scoffs. “Luck has nothing to do with it.”

I follow her lead, and scan the room looking for Carson. I find him almost immediately. He’s sitting on a huge sectional, surrounded by players and cheerleaders, but his eyes are on me. He’s wearing a charcoal gray shirt that hugs his body and makes his eyes stand out. He’s so incredibly sexy, and the hungry look he fixes on me makes my legs feel like Jell-O.

My phone buzzes.

You have no idea how

badly I want to kiss you.

I smile.

About that. I was thinking that

I might tell my dad this week.

I’m glad I kept it tame and only

said kiss.

I roll my eyes.

You know what I mean. About us.

That is . . . if you’re okay with it.

Am I okay touching and kissing

you every time I see you, no matter

where we are? Hell yes.

He might be hard on you. He’s not

always most logical person when it

comes to treating me my age.

I can take it.

Is there somewhere we can be

alone? For just a little bit.

To my surprise, he leans over to Silas and the two talk quietly.

Upstairs. Second room on the left.

I’ll go up first. Give it a minute or

two, and then you follow.

Done, Romeo.

Romeo, huh?

I might have changed my mind

a little about chance romantic

meetings at parties.

Well, here’s to romantic party meeting number two.

I duck into the kitchen to get a drink and to kill some time. Someone must have been feeling especially celebratory, because in addition to the keg, there’s liquor and mixers set up on the bar. I fill up my cup with mostly cranberry juice, and a splash of vodka, while two minutes stretches into an infinity.

I’m counting the seconds in my head when a body leans on the bar next to me, too close.

“You’re Coach Cole’s daughter, right?”

I manage a thin smile. “Yeah.”

The guy is massive, tall and blond and probably closing in on three hundred pounds.

“Jake Carter.” He holds out his hand. “I’m on the defensive line.” I take his hand, and he shakes mine a little too long for my comfort.

“You talked to Levi since everything went down?”

I jerk back. “Um, no. I haven’t. Why would I?”

“I just thought you might since you guys have a history.”

“Yeah.” I roll my eyes. “Ancient history. I am miles past moved on.”

“McClain, right? You must have a thing for QBs.”

“Excuse me?”

I grab my drink and turn to leave.

“Wait, I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”

I don’t even bother concealing my annoyance. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

“Before you go . . . there’s something you should know.” I raise a brow, remembering why I don’t come to parties like this. “I like your dad a lot. He’s a good coach. I would have told him, but I don’t want to mess with the team dynamics when everything’s going so well.”

“Just spit it out,” I say.

“There’s a bet going around the locker room. Levi started it at the beginning of the year. Silas and a few other guys are in on it. Whoever hooks up with you first wins.”

“Hooks up with me?” Despite all the noise and laughter of the party, the world is oddly silent around me.

“It’s stupid. Levi . . . He was just saying how you . . . well, you weren’t that easy, and it became this thing to joke about who could nail you down. I just . . . I thought you should know. You being here at a football party and all.”

“Who can nail me down, huh?” I laugh and it tastes bitter on my tongue. “Thanks for the tip, Carter.”

I add a little more vodka to my drink before I turn and leave. This isn’t new territory for me. After Levi graduated, I was the frigid bitch who wouldn’t give any guy a chance, especially football players. And the scum at the bottom of the male barrel always seem to think a girl who says no is just a girl who’s a challenge.

I tip my cup up, and swallow steadily as I climb the stairs. I didn’t really mix in that last pour of vodka, and the first few swallows burn. But I keep going, and my cup is half-empty by the time I’m outside the door that Carson mentioned.

He’s pacing when I enter, just the lamp on beside the bed.

He looks gorgeous, and I wince.

I gulp down more of my drink and tell myself that there’s no way Carson is in on that bet. He’s been entirely too sweet and patient and caring.

“Hey.” He folds his arms around me and presses his face into the crook of my neck. “I missed you.”

Maybe he’s too sweet. Is that a thing? Are there actually guys like him that are really this great? Or do they all have some ulterior motive?

I tip my head back to sip more of my drink, and his mouth opens over my pulse. “You taste so fucking good. You drive me crazy.”

“Are we in Silas’s room?” I ask.

He nods before trailing his lips down to my collarbone.

“I know. Not exactly the most romantic place, but we’ll just stay standing and not touch any surface.”

Silas and a few other guys are in on it.

He can’t be. He just . . . He can’t be. He said he didn’t listen to the locker-room talk about me.

He lifts his head up and cups my chin. “Hey. Where are you?”

I finish off the last of my drink and say, “Sorry. I might have poured a little more vodka than I thought into that.”

He presses his forehead against mine and says, “You okay?”

“Yep. A little vodka never hurt anyone.”

He grins. “Famous last words.”

My heart twinges at that grin.

He has nothing to do with the bet. I repeat it in my head until I’m sure I believe it.

And yet . . . I’m so sick of being the frigid freak. So tired of being the kind of girl targeted for shit like this. Maybe it’s time for me to get over the thing with Levi. I’m certainly not the first girl to lose her virginity and regret it.

I just need to let it go.

I put my cup down on a dresser, and wrap my arms around Carson. I move my mouth to his, and he wastes no time dipping his tongue inside. His hands start at my hips, gripping me firmly. They slip up under my jacket, stopping around my rib cage as his lips tease mine.

“It was a stupid idea coming to this party,” he says. “All I want to do is be with you.”

I step back, smiling like I know what I’m doing.

“So be with me.”

“You wanna leave?”

I shake my head and peel off my jacket, tossing it on the floor. Silas’s bed is made, and I take a quick glance at the comforter. “As long as we don’t get under the covers we’re probably safe.”

“You love testing my control, don’t you, Daredevil?”

I think back to the night we met. There’s no way he knew who I was . . . right? But he heard me arguing with Silas. If he and Silas are friends, wouldn’t he have recognized his voice?

I shake my head and force myself back into the present.

“I love it when you call me Daredevil.”

That’s the girl I want to be—the girl who doesn’t give a damn about football or bets or sex. I want to be the girl who takes what she wants. And right now, bet or no bet, truth or lie . . . I want Carson.

And I want to stop being scared that everything will hurt me. I’m stronger than that.

I crawl up on the bed on my knees and crook my finger at him, and he practically jumps on the bed.

We both laugh, and I smooth my fingers through his hair. He does the same, combing softly through the strands and then settling his hands on my back.

He makes me happy. I’m comfortable around him. No one is that good of an actor. Even when I’d had sex with Levi, I could tell he wasn’t all the way in it. Everything was too mechanical. It hurt, but I went through the motions.

It wouldn’t be like that with Carson. It would be hot and sensual, and it would get me past this hang-up.

I tip my lips up, capturing his. But everything about the moment is a little too soft. I thrust my tongue against his, press my chest into him, and then lie back, pulling him on top of me. I need him to lose himself in me, so that I can lose myself, too.