“Oh yeah, sure.”
Standing by the door, I wait for her to leave. She finally realizes she’s being kicked out and exits. As soon as she steps out into the hall, I say goodnight and shut the door.
I guess I can’t fault her for worrying about her brother. However, something else keeps nagging me. My gut instincts tell me that she needs Calvin to be whole so she can fall apart. I don’t like it one bit…except he’s not mine to protect, or worry about.
I put on my tank top and pajama shorts. I crawl into bed and shut the light off. Two minutes later, the door opens and closes. The mattress dips. He scoots closer, curving his hips around mine. I don’t say a word because I don’t know what to say. I hate that he’s here. And I love it, crave it. A burst of pure joy rips through me every time I see him, smell him, feel him pressing that body that won’t quit against mine. He wraps his arm around my waist and digs his nose in my hair.
“Seriously?”
“Shhh, go to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I do as he asks. Because really, what choice do I have? My heart has already chosen.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I’m nervous. Like, really nervous. I went from being a major bloodthirsty football fan, to whimpering lovestruck nervous nelly in a matter of four months. Every time someone comes within touching distance of Cal, I hold my breath and cringe. Football is officially no longer fun for me. Everyone else seems to be having a great time, though. My Dad is busy entertaining Sam and Amanda with his corny jokes during commercial breaks. They’re all laughing and carrying on––no sweat. Amber’s been getting her kicks by taunting poor Ethan, who happens to be handling it like a true gentleman. Me? I’m living on adrenaline.
By the end of the third quarter, I’m beyond drained. Add insult to injury, the game is a nail bitter. It comes down to the last possession. The Titans get the ball on their own ten yard line and have to drive the length of the field for the game winning field goal. On second and five, Cal ends up getting sacked. The next second I’m on my feet, screaming, “Get off of him, you fat fuck!”
Not my best moment. I’ll admit it. Needless to say, I draw a bunch of attention and some applause. In the end, the Titans squeak out a victory. Hallelujah.
Ethan orders me to wait for Calvin and commandeers the Yukon to drive everyone home. This does not sit well with me. I’m not even sure Calvin won’t go straight to his car. As I contemplate the horror of sitting here by myself while every other family member departs with a corresponding player, my spirits steadily sink. I feel more and more unsure with each passing minute I don’t see that beautiful face appear in the doorway. And then, in an instant, all doubt disappears.
He steps into the room and scans the area, his eyes quickly moving across the crowd. His hair is still wet and his face clean shaven. His suit is impeccable. He’s so beautiful it stops my heart. No really, I feel it skip a couple of beats.
Finally, he finds me standing behind a group of people headed for the door of the clubhouse. Quite a few curious glances turn his way. Some people pat his arm and congratulate him on a good game, but he doesn’t acknowledge them; his attention is all for me. He’s crossing the room, heading in my direction. Without hesitation, he takes my face in his hands and kisses me as if we aren’t standing in a room full of people watching us. And he doesn’t stop. Not when someone wolf whistles, not when someone laughingly shouts, “Get a room.”
Pulling away, he says, “Ready to go home?”
I nod. It isn’t my home, but I don’t have it in me to correct him. When he hangs his arm around my neck, I catch him wincing. My frown is immediate.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“It’s official. I hate football.”
I open the door to my bedroom and find Calvin tucked into my bed, snoring…I am so screwed. He soaked in ice as soon as we got home. Then he practically crawled upstairs. Since Amanda and Sam are leaving tomorrow, I spent some time with them, talking and watching tv––saying our goodbyes. I’m going to miss Sam so much I can’t even bear to think about it.
Cal looks so peaceful in sleep, even though I know for a fact how banged up he is. Saw it for myself when he asked me to get his sweats out of the closet and didn’t bother to warn me that he’d dropped his towel. I was so upset about the bruise on his ribs I almost didn’t notice the rest of him.