Here & Now (21 page)

“It is simple, Kane. You either wanna be roommates or you don’t.”

“What do you get out of this?”

“I thought that was obvious. A place to live.”

“No, I mean, you’d be helping me because I wouldn’t have to foot the price of apartment on my own, but that helps me, not you. So what do you get out of it?”

“Nothing if you’re putting it that way. I’m not doing this because I wanna keep an eye on you, if that’s what you thinking. I just need to get out of my best friend’s house and let them get back to their lives, and I figure you want to do the same.”

He eyes me warily, still not trusting a damn word I’m saying and I’ve got to fight to control my annoyance. Asking someone to live with you isn’t supposed to be this hard unless you’re dating them for fuck sakes. With the way Ryder’s reacting, you’d think I just proposed marriage or something.

Hell, asking Caddy to live with me would be easier than asking this guy.

“Come on, man. This can work. We’re the two closest players on the team, we’ve gotta spend a lot of time working together, so living together makes sense. Just say yes already.”

“Fine. I’m in, but when do you wanna do this?”

“Let’s find a place first and go from there, but if we can nail everything down quick, I’ll do it this weekend after the game.”

“You sure this has got nothing to do with what I saw the other day?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. They’re two separate things, but now that you mention it…how much did you see?”

“He shot your leg up with something. Can’t be sure what, but I don’t think that really matters.”

“Cortisone.” I admit and immediately want to kick myself for. Giving away information isn’t what this was supposed to be about. I’m only giving him more fuel to use on me later if he ever gets tired of being a running back and makes a play for my spot.

“How bad is it?”

“I get two or three shots a day when we’ve got practice or a game, otherwise I just deal with the pain.”

“No, I’m talking about your knee, not the shots.”

“It’s pretty bad from what the doctor said when Caddy and I went, but I’ll tell you the same thing I told her. I’m gonna get through the next four games and then I’ll deal with it.”

“You think that’s smart?”

“Probably not, but what other choice do I have?”

With no response from him after my statement, the air goes silent and after a few minutes of just standing around, I pull my body off the locker and get ready to head out to the field. Getting a few steps away, he finally speaks again and where I expect it to be another warning or show of concern, it’s the opposite.

“So roommates, huh?”

Cadence

I don’t know what possessed me to think this would be a good idea.

The only studying we’ve managed to get done since he got here has been the deep intrusive study of each other. The way our bodies move together, our tongues clashing as we study the inside of our mouths while we’re kissing. I’m definitely not complaining, but it’s the complete opposite of the kind of studying he said he wanted to do.

“We really need to focus on this.”

His eyes dip away from mine, as he takes those lips that for the last ten minutes have been doing nothing but smiling and buries them, along with the rest of his face into the side of my neck, causing me to lose the one small trace of focus I’d managed to summon since we made it up to my room.

“Dillon…” I moan softly as his tongue glides along the baseline of my neck before his lips trace over. “You said you wanted to do this.”

Pulling back just enough to let me see him through my now half opened and sated eyes, he smiles at me again and it takes every bit of willpower I have not to succumb to it.

“I thought we were doing it.”

Oh, we’re definitely doing something, but it’s not what he came here for. Or maybe, considering how quickly the dynamic changed once we were alone together in my room, we’re doing exactly what he came here for. I can’t be sure.

“You said you wanted to study.”

“And I do.”

“So why aren’t we doing that?”

“I didn’t say what I wanted to study.”

Turning my face away from his grin, determined not to be swept away by the desire in his eyes, he goes for my neck again and this time I bring my hand up to stop him.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to focus.”

Tracing his finger across my bottom lip, his eyes frozen in place on it, he taps it gently before flashing me a sly grin.

“If you’re attempting to get me to focus, you might want to avoid biting your lip like that.”

We need to change positions if we’re going to get any work done tonight. Being on my bed, it’s dangerous enough. Knowing what it can lead to, especially when we’ve got the house to ourselves the way we do right now makes it even worse.

I’m being torn in two different directions. The one that wants to help him, considering all the extra time he’s been putting in with Isaac over the last few days, and the one that wants to say screw it and just continue studying each other.

I’ve always been the practical one. Doing what needs to be done first and worrying about my own personal enjoyment second, but it seems like lately, whenever I’m within a foot of Dillon and the way my body seems to pull like a magnet toward him, logic and practicality take a nosedive until all I can see, feel and smell is him.

Yeah, I definitely need to move. Put some distance between us, sit at the desk and actually help him with the work he’s got to get finished, instead of thinking of the fastest way to get his lips on my body again until we’re lost in a mess of tangled sheets and discarded clothes.

Focus, Cadence.

“This is the first chance we’ve gotten to be alone all week. I know I need to focus on getting shit done, but is it so bad that I want to enjoy some time with my girlfriend first?”

My heart is screaming at me to tell him he’s not wrong. That I want the same things he does, but my head won’t let the words form. As badly as I want to give in right now, I can’t and judging by the way he moves off me, and settles his body at the end of my bed after seeing my face, he’s not happy about it.

Situating the buttons on my shirt, the ones that mysteriously became undone when we fell back onto the bed a half an hour before, I scoot my body across the bed until I’m throwing my legs over the side and sitting beside him.

“I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head, obviously not a fan of what I’ve said, he turns his face toward me and the smile that had been there only a couple of minutes before has been replaced with a frown.

“This was a bad idea.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Yeah it was.”

I’m confused. It’s like in a matter of seconds, he’s done a 360. His eyes are hard and his face while no longer frowning, is hard and straight. It’s almost like he’s angry, but whether it’s at me or himself, I can’t tell. What I do know is, I don’t like it.

“I thought you were as into that as I was. I’m such a fucking idiot. All you’ve been thinking about the entire time is actually studying.”

I don’t need to be able to hear to know when someone is upset. Usually it’s written all over their body language or their facial expressions. I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten so good at reading the signs in people that I can even figure out the tone they’re using when they speak to me, and right now, Dillon’s tone is rough and biting.

He’s angry and I have no idea why.

“Why are you so upset?”

Instead of answering, he pushes his lips down on mine, not in the familiar way I’m used to, but harder, and it’s not long before he’s using his body weight to push me back on the bed, his hands going for my shirt, buttons popping almost before he gets to them and I can feel his erratic breathing on my skin as he starts nipping and biting, starting at my neck and working his way down to where my bra cup starts.

This doesn’t feel right. A few minutes ago, it felt perfect, amazing even, but now, it just feels wrong. I need to stop this before it goes any farther.

“Dillon.”

When no response comes, either in him looking at me, acknowledging his name or stopping the movement of his mouth on my body, I try again, with more force, wanting it to be as loud as possible.

“Dillon. Stop!”

This seems to get through. He pauses, even if it is only briefly, but he still won’t look me in the eyes, which does nothing but make the upset in my stomach worse.

As I feel his fingers graze across my stomach, making quick work of the button on my jeans, I’ve had more than I can stand. This isn’t a turn on, it doesn’t feel right and there’s no way in hell I’m letting it go on any longer. If he won’t look at me, respond to me when I call his name then I’m gonna have to do it some other way.

Physically.

Shoving my hands into his chest, using all of the strength and stamina I have, I push him off me and slide out quickly from underneath him, not stopping until I’m all the way in the corner of the room beside my desk, my hands now gripping on to both sides of my shirt in an effort to bring it together.

With as badly as my head is pounding, the fear in the moment making my hands shake, there’s no way in hell I can get the buttons done up so I resign myself to just holding onto it tightly while keeping my eyes lowered to the floor, not even wanting to look up and see what’s waiting for me.

The anger and upset in his eyes.

“You need to go.”

Looking up just slightly after saying the words, I see that he’s sliding himself off the bed and where I think he’s gonna listen and leave, he doesn’t. He makes his way over to me, resting his hand under my chin and lifting until I’m looking straight at him, his expression soft; concerned even. The way he was before everything changed out of nowhere.

“Baby, no. I’m sorry. I took things too far. Look, if you wanna study, we’ll study. I mean; that is why I came over.”

“I can’t. Dillon…” My voice cracks and I can feel him flinch. “You need to go. I want to be alone.”

“You don’t mean that! I screwed up. I’m sorry! I just got a little too hot and took things too far.”

Here’s where expression gives away tone again. He’s pleading with me, I can see it in his eyes. There’s desperation there. He wants to make this right. He knows he did something wrong and he hates himself for it. If I didn’t believe so strongly in needing to be by myself, seeing him this way might break me, but as it is, the confusion I feel over where his change in mood came from, the way he almost seemed angry as he tried to touch me, it’s too much.

He needs to go.

“Please just go, okay? You were right. It was a bad idea.”

“Caddy, don’t be like this!”

Do not give in. Stay strong. Once we’ve had time to cool off, we can talk about this, but that can’t happen if you give in.

“I need to be alone. You need to go.”

I have no idea if the resolve I have as I’m saying the words is as evident to him hearing me as it is in my own head, but where he didn’t seem to want to leave or back down before, it’s the opposite now.

Maybe I can get through this after all.

“Okay. I’ll go.” He agrees, but before he turns to walk out of my room and down the stairs that will take him completely out of the house, he leans into me one final time, his words that should bring me comfort, like knives instead. “I love you.”

Dillon

What the hell is wrong with me? How did things get so twisted and why do I want to hit something so fucking bad?

Ever since I did what Cadence asked and left, I’ve been sitting in my car outside her house going over everything that happened, trying to figure out what went wrong and why I had to go and act like a such a fucking idiot, but I can’t figure any of it out.

It’s like I’m drunk off my ass and somewhere along the way I blacked out because things were perfectly fine one second, the two of us kissing, touching and connecting. It all feeling as amazing as it always does when we’re together and the next minute I’m so pissed off all I can see is red.

I’m as angry as I was every single time Bruce would call me with another fight.

Fuck. I can’t be thinking about this right now, comparing what just happened with Cadence to anything I’ve been through with him. They’re nowhere near the same thing, but try as I might to believe that, I can’t make it happen.

The racing of my heart, the rage just flowing in my veins the way it used to, the fire that erupts whenever any part of my body is connected to my girlfriends, it all came together and erupted like a volcano in the worst way possible.

If she hadn’t pushed at me, forced her way out from under me, how fucking far would I have taken it tonight? Everything around the time where she said we needed to focus is hazy, almost as if I didn’t live it and I’m getting to watch it happen on an old television screen where the pictures not very clear. It does feel like I blacked out in the moment and it makes no sense.

Mark coming through a few days before and getting the amphetamines, shooting warning after warning at me about side effects and ways that I would change, both on the field and off, they’re all flashing through my head now.

Shit. This isn’t me. He was right all along. Taking this shit, no matter how much better it makes my performance on the field, it’s finding ways to fuck with me. Having this uncontrollable need to take full advantage of my girlfriend, even without her consent to it, that’s not me.

It’s the damn pills.

I can’t believe I did this.

I’ve been with a lot of girls, some that I slept with and others that I just had a good time with, but never once in all of those times did I force myself on a chick. I don’t believe in it. I might have been the world’s worst asshole in high school, torturing other kids for my own personal amusement, but never in that way.

Anyone that takes advantage of a girl needs to have their asses beat. Maybe even have themselves strung up until the same thing they put the girls through is happening to them. It’s what I’ve always believed.

There’s apparently a first time for everything though, because if Caddy hadn’t done what she did, I get the feeling that things would have turned out a whole lot worse tonight and even just thinking about that makes me wanna puke.

When she told me to leave, it’s like the haze I’d been living in lifted and I was normal again. My heart wasn’t pounding away, I wasn’t having a hard time breathing and focusing, everything was just level and calm. So I tried to do damage control and failed. I scared her, something that after the shit with Tim last year, I’ve been determined as hell not to do.

It wasn’t just her that I scared the hell out of. It was me too.

“Be careful with these, they’re like steroids on speed, man. You’re gonna notice shit changing. You’ll be more aggressive, determined, hell, even hornier than you normally are.”

Aggression is fine on the field. It’s where I want it to be, being more driven and determined too, but having it happen when I’m making out with Caddy? It’s wrong. I don’t care how hot I get, how needy I am for her, the shit I just pulled in there, it can’t happen again.

I need to make this up to her. Tell her the truth. Let her know that it wasn’t me doing that shit, it was the effect of the drugs on me.

If you admit you’re taking something, it’s going to be even worse than when she found out about your knee. She’ll never forgive you and you’ll end up the way you’ve always deserved to be. Alone.

The voice in my head, the one that sounds eerily like Bruce, is right. If I go back in there right now and tell Cadence the truth, lay everything out, it’s going to end badly. I’m going to lose her and with what I’m already facing, having to walk away from football once I’m done with these games, this is just not something I’m willing to do.