Harlequin E New Adult Romance Box Set Volume 1: Burning Moon\Girls' Guide to Getting It Together\Rookie in Love (46 page)

Jackson’s phone chimes again and he silences it and shoves it back into his pocket. “You can answer it, Jackson. It’s not like this is a date.” I turn and walk past the skylight and find the blanket and small bottle of champagne I left earlier in the day.

“It’s not important.” He follows me around the skylight and a curious look crosses his face when he sees the champagne. “What are we celebrating?”

“It’s my birthday, or it was,” I say as I unfold the large blanket and make a place for us to sit on the ground.

“My mother would kill me if she ever found out I attended a party without an invitation or a gift for the guest of honor. I think it would reinforce her fears that I left my good manners behind when I moved here from Georgia.” He takes the edge of the blanket and helps to straighten it out, then toes his shoes off, sits down and reaches for the champagne.

“Don’t be silly, Jackson, your secret is safe with me.” I wonder how deep that southern heritage is in his blood. I won’t ask because there is no time, and questions about his family might lead to questions about mine. I don’t want any of that spoiling these last moments in my space. I sit down next to him with my knees drawn up, hugging my legs and watching him uncork the bottle.

“What is a beautiful girl like you doing alone on her birthday, Maddy? Shouldn’t you be at home celebrating with some lucky guy who gets to tuck you in at the end of the night?” Hearing my name shortened for the first time in my life almost makes me feel like I am someone else. Greg would never call me “Maddy.” The image of being tucked into bed and kissed tenderly flashes through my brain, but it isn’t Greg I imagine, and I quickly look away from Jackson as I realize I am staring at his lips.

“I want to see the show and he isn’t one for getting a little dirty, even if the reward is worth it.” Now I have put it out there; Jackson knows there is someone in my life, so I can let go of the guilt that has crept in with the image of Jackson in my bed. “What about you, Mr. Quarterback? Shouldn’t you be tucking some girl into bed somewhere, or at least answering her text?”

“Who knows what tonight will bring? She can survive a few hours without being attached to my jock. I don’t make any promises during the season, so she knows what she has gotten into.” The champagne opens with a pop and some of the bubbly fluid cascades over his hand, so he rushes the bottle to his mouth to catch it and then hands it over to me. It is warm from sitting up here all day, but that just adds to the freedom of the night in that it isn’t perfect like everything always has to be.

We pass the bottle back and forth a few times and I feel the warmth of the alcohol rushing through my veins. I relax as my muscles grow warm and pliant. Jackson lies down with one arm behind his head and begins to draw small circles on my back with the thumb from his other hand. I should stop him but I can’t. Desire is clouding my judgment and I swear I can feel the tingle from his touch in places I have never felt before. I drink from the bottle again, feeling the familiar buzz from earlier begin to take over my head. I finish the champagne so that I won’t think too hard about tonight and what I can’t have. No one touches me as sensually as Jackson is touching me right now. Greg follows the same rules that I do, maintaining a respectable distance until we’re married.

A meteor streaks across the sky above us. Jackson tugs lightly on my hip so that I lie back onto his outstretched arm. His warmth envelops me and the excitement of the shooting stars mixed with the warmth of his skin and the heat of the alcohol makes me press my body against his. I lean onto my side as he pulls me closer to him, draping his arm over mine and tracing lines with his fingers from my exposed shoulder to my elbow and back again. I lift my foot and cross it over his leg, tangling our legs together as I rest my arm across his stomach. I feel his breath catch when I slip my thumb under his shirt and graze the skin of his abdomen with my fingers.

“What are you doing, Maddy?” His voice is husky with longing and I know I am playing a dangerous new game, but the inhibition is gone as I feel his skin against mine.

“Watching the stars, Jackson. What are you doing?” We both know that the meteor shower has fallen a distant second to this game of light touches.

“Trying to remind myself that you already have someone to tuck you in tonight. Those fingers of yours are making that hard, though. I’d like to know if your lips taste as good as they look.” I look up into his eyes and want so badly to tell him to find out, to just forget about Greg and the stupid rules and feel what it would be like to have a man want me for more than how perfectly we could charm high society together. Jackson’s phone buzzes against the inside of my thigh and I reach into his pocket to retrieve it for him, keeping my eyes locked onto his. He is staring back at me with such intensity I feel I could melt.

Jackson adjusts us so that I am flat on my back and he is supported by his elbow, and uses his free hand to flip the lock on the phone and read the text. He types back a message and I can see that he has answered
Not tonight.
He has someone, too, I remind myself, and glance back up to the sky. He slips the phone back into his pocket, touches my knee lightly and then begins making a warm, slow trail up my thigh with his middle finger.

We are both watching as his finger inches toward the hem of my dress. My excitement grows with each second and I can feel that he is fighting his own arousal at my side. When his fingertip reaches my hem, he slides it underneath and lays his hand flat against my thigh for the briefest of seconds before closing his eyes and releasing a breath. He removes his hand, tugs my hem down a fraction, then places his hand at my hip.

“It’s getting late, Maddy, and I think you might be a little drunk, so I want to make sure you get home safe. Let me take you there.” The disappointment I feel is intense, but he’s right. I am a little drunk and he needs to go home to someone else, someone who can be his. I take one last look at the stars, nod my head in agreement and sit up. Jackson stands and extends a hand to me to help pull me to my feet. I drop his hand when our connection causes goose bumps to prickle my skin. We separate to look for my purse and shoes, and then meet up again at the top of the trellis.

Jackson descends first and waits for me at the bottom. I am far more graceful this time climbing down the trellis, but I slip when my bare feet meet the wet grass, causing my ankle to twist. I don’t fall down, but the pain in my ankle makes standing on it impossible.

“Rookie mistake,” he whispers in my ear, and then swoops me up into his arms. “I hope you don’t live far,” he says in a low voice, both of us now aware of the late hour and open windows.

“I live here, in this building,” I laugh. “Did I miss the part where you rode up on a white horse? Aren’t you supposed to be wearing some sort of shining armor?” Once the giggles start I can’t get them to stop.

“Looks like the damsel I’ve rescued is not only in distress but is also tipsy.” A smile flashes across his face as he begins walking to the front entrance. When we enter the building, I point in the direction of my front door and fish the key from my purse. He holds me while I open the door and I rest my head in the crook of his neck, preparing myself for the moment where he puts me down and rides off.

“Which way is your room?” he asks. I point down the hall to our left and he kicks the door closed behind us. I lift my head and look into his eyes as he enters my room and that tension is instantly between us again. I have never had a boy in my room before, as ridiculous as that sounds. My heart speeds up with anticipation as Jackson moves to set me down on the bed.

My arms instinctively wrap around his neck as he bends to place me on top of the covers. I don’t let go right away and our eyes meet. “Let me help get you under the covers, just lift your hips a bit so I can pull down the sheets.” I do as he asks, still holding on to him loosely, and when he has released the sheets from under me he helps to ease me back against the pillows. We are still for a minute and I drop my gaze to his lips, wanting them to meet mine more than anything I have ever wanted.

The energy between us is magnetic and our bodies are pulled together until my face is near his and our lips meet ever so lightly. The kiss is sweet at first, a slow exploration of tastes and tugs, until I open my mouth and his tongue sweeps into me, breaking my restraint, sending the kiss into a frenzy of desire. Jackson’s hands slide over my body, and his heat permeates my dress and scorches my skin. I arch into his hands, but he pulls away, shutting his eyes tightly.

“If we don’t stop, beautiful birthday girl, the regret you feel in the morning will be even more painful than that ankle is going to be.” We stare into each other’s eyes and try to calm our breathing. When his appears in control again he kisses my forehead, and I shut my eyes against the tenderness of it. I breathe him in one last time and then take my arms from around his neck.

Jackson pulls the covers up around me and whispers in my ear, “Happy birthday. It has been an honor to tuck you in, little Rookie. Please don’t regret a minute of this in the morning, because it has been one of the best nights of my life.” He kisses me on my cheek before turning and walking out of my room.

Chapter Two

The throbbing pain registers before I can even open my eyes. At first I think it is my whole body protesting and pounding in a relentless throb from my head to my feet, but I peel my eyes open and focus on exactly where it is radiating from. My head and my right ankle grab my attention, and I start to recall last night in a string of unorganized memories.

This is my first hangover, and I quickly vow that it will be my last. While I have never experienced a pounding in my head as bad as this, I am pretty sure I am not supposed to be hearing it. Perhaps I am hallucinating, but I can hear a pounding that is originating outside of my skull. I throw the covers back, sit up and perch on the side of my bed, waiting for the rolling to stop.

My ankle looks horrible: swollen and slightly bruised. I hobble to my bedroom door and try to get to the knocking at the end of the hall. In a cadence of ouches and thumps from my feeble attempts at bracing myself up against the wall, I slowly manage to pull open the front door. Right away I want to slam it shut.

“Hello—you must be Maddy?” The young man at my door is carrying a small black bag. He looks from my eyes down to my ankle and smiles. I can’t even imagine what a wreck I must look like. I still have on my dress from last night, my hair is a matted mess, and I am pretty sure I must have makeup smeared everywhere.

“Yes, I am Madeline. Who are you?” I stumble and he puts a hand on my arm to keep me from falling. When I make an ass of myself, I go all out.

“I’m Rob, a trainer for the team, and someone out there just called in a favor for you. Heard you might need a little help with that ankle today.” He tips his chin in the direction of the living room and looks past my shoulder as if to ask if I am going to invite him in.

“I am not on any team and no one owes me any favors. Thanks for going to the trouble of coming over, but I’m afraid there has been a mistake.” I pull my arm away from Rob’s grip and he cocks his head to the side while letting out a small chuckle.

“Now I know there is no mistake. He told me you were stubborn. The favor that was owed is mine, Maddy, you just happen to be the lucky recipient of my services. I have been waiting for three years to make things even between Jackson and me—this is my opportunity. Now, if I could please just come in and check out that ankle I will happily be on my way. Practice starts in about ten minutes, so no worries about me sticking around long enough to kill you. I just wouldn’t have the time.”

Jackson sent a trainer to my house. My hopes that he might have left here and got himself so drunk he would forget about carrying a sloppy, giggling invalid back to her apartment are dashed. “By all means, Rob, please come in. I can’t get in the way of a man and his debts,” I say, making a grand gesture with my arm to invite him inside. Rob takes my arm and wraps it around his shoulder to help me walk over to the couch.

After looking at my ankle he concludes that it is probably not broken but just tender from having twisted it. Rob wraps it and it immediately feels better, although it is nowhere near a miracle healing and I am dying to take some ibuprofen. With his favor paid in full, he packs up his bag and makes his way to the front door.

“You know why it has taken me three years to pay this debt off, Maddy?” he asks as he steps out onto my doorstep.

“It’s Madeline,” I correct. “It must be because you are a very busy man.” Rob laughs and shakes his head no.

“Jackson has never had anyone he has cared enough about to call in his favor. I have to admit that while I was excited to be able to call us even, my curiosity about you was more intense than any feeling of relief. Have a good day,
Madeline.
”

“Wait, Rob, could you please thank Jackson for me? I’m not sure when I’ll see him again or I would thank him myself.”

“If I had to put money on it, I would say that you’ll be seeing him again real soon.” With a wink and a bounce in his step, Rob leaves my apartment. I stand there for a minute wondering where I would put my money. Last night was intense, but today is a new day. There will be no more rescuing this damsel in distress; the knights from fairy tales don’t go after girls who lock themselves up and throw away the key.

I decide that a shower is out of the question, thanks to my ankle wrap, and run myself a hot bath. I strip out of my dress from last night and smile as I uncover the lacy panties that must have allowed Jackson to get an eyeful. The thought of Jackson causes heat to rush over me, and I slowly lower the panties to the floor, relishing the way the silky lace traces the path Jackson’s hands took last night.

I take a moment to look at myself in the bathroom mirror. My blue eyes are smeared with yesterday’s makeup and my nearly-black hair is tangled and falling loosely across my shoulders and down my back. I run my fingers through it and then twist it up and tie it in a knot at my neck. I turn sideways, but don’t see any more evidence of my clumsy night on my tan skin.