#Score (38 page)

I
wish
I could read her thoughts. Her face lights up and her mouth parts, giving me the pleasure of seeing someone as smart as her utterly dumbfounded. It’s the little things in life.

“My library?” she repeats back to me, tugging at the corner of her warm sweater.

“Your library. I know it’s in my house and all, but it’s always been your library. Even when I first had this place built a couple of years ago. Something told me this was the way I should do it, even though it was hard to watch the guys who laid the tilework down. The closer it got toward the finished product, the crazier I felt. I like to think that maybe Mom was kind of helping me prepare for you, in a way,” I explain. To anyone else, I would sound like a total whack-job, but I know Paige well enough to know that she puts stock in that kind of thing too.

The second I see her pull her lip between her teeth, I’m ready to close the distance between us and pull her into my arms. But there’s one more thing I have to tell her about, one more thing she needs to know the truth about.

“With everything that happened with my father, there was
one
good thing to come from it.”

She raises an eyebrow at me. It must sound even crazier to think that anything positive would come out of anything referring to my dad.

“The letters. I finally found out what really happened. Not only did my dad pull that bullshit about Kevon, but his reasoning behind it was so utterly fucked up that I knew then that he had problems. I guess I’ve always known deep down, but it’s hard to face facts like that until they’re shoved in your face. He told me about how when we were kids and I moved away, he wanted to keep us apart. Which is stupid, considering we were only twelve, and how else would we have gotten in contact with each other besides the phone or letters? Neither of us had access to computers, and we lived so far away. Back to the ‘my dad’s a psycho’ part. Here’s the crazy part. I received that first letter you sent to me, which I told you about already. But I wrote you one back, and now I know why you said you didn’t get it. It’s because he burned it the second I wasn’t paying attention. So you thought I never wrote you back after sending me a letter, but I thought you never wrote me back after I sent you a reply. Just like he wanted. So really, it wasn’t our fault.”

Paige is mulling it all over, still staring at the mosaic work on the floor. “That actually explains a lot. It just never made sense that you ignored me. It wasn’t something you would do intentionally, even though I kept telling myself otherwise after a while.”

I nod, subconsciously inching myself closer to her. “I know what you mean. I was convinced that someone had kidnapped you and put an alien in your place. I knew you better than that.”

When I take the next step, I finally catch Paige’s attention and draw her eyes up from the floor, where she’s looking at me intently. I can now see the small tears running down her face. I don’t know whether to hold her close and tell her it’s going to be okay, or to kiss her because maybe she’s happy. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell with women.

She doesn’t give me the chance, as usual, and breaks into a run across the floor to me until we collide. Our mouths crash together, and it’s all lips and teeth and tongue, and I’m grabbing her, holding her, never letting go ever again.

I pull back to take a deep breath and laugh, completely breathless. “No, wait! There’s actually more!”

It’s nothing to scoop Paige up my arms and carry her out of the library, smacking her ass for good measure and making her squeal with laughter. I take her into my bedroom and set her down so that she’s standing by the doorway. I want her to take a good, long look.

“What do you think?” I ask her, silently imploring her to figure it out herself.

Paige steps forward, clearly confused at first until her eyes settle on different parts the room. The vanity that I’ve added, with the gilded mirror, and the new colorful linens I put on the bed myself. There is a white bathrobe hanging up on the opposite side of my bed, matching my black bathrobe next to my side. And if that wouldn’t give it away, maybe the his and her wall signs above the headboard of my bed will.

“I don’t suppose you saw the car outside?”

Paige walks into the middle of the room, putting her hands behind her head before turning to face me again, her eyes wide and teary. “I did. I see all of it . . . and I have no idea what to say.”

I smile at her. “I knew you would. You’re a smart woman, always have been.” I motion for her to come sit with me on the edge of the bed, and she does, the soft mattress easily conforming to our body shapes. “All of it’s for you. I became jaded about the money and sponsorships from playing here in the Pro League, and I ended up not even caring any more. I have all this money to blow and I don’t, but I don’t do anything good with it either, so it’s kind of the same as if I did. Things are different now. I know what I want to do with my money. What I want to do with my life.”

Her face could not look any more hopeful and bright, her freckles seeming more innocent because of it. I’m afraid of what it would be like if I said the wrong thing to her and had to watch that expression fall away from her.

“I’ve had time to set some things up, square some things away. I cleared out half of that giant-ass garage of mine so that your side will be used for a makeshift warehouse and distribution center for your plus-sized exercise clothing line when you get a chance to set it up. I’ve added a few touches here and there throughout the place that remind me of you, things I think you appreciate. I’m just trying to show you the truth here.”

She shifts against me, and I can feel her skin turned gooseflesh when I take her hand in mine. “What’s the truth then, Elijah?”

I lick my lips because my dry throat is only getting worse as the words come tumbling from my mouth. “The truth? I think you already know the truth, but I’ll say it out loud so that you’ll never misunderstand me. I love you, Paige. I’ve loved you most of my life, and I hope to love you for the rest of it. That’s the truth, and it’s the only one I’ll ever need again.”

She lets out a loud hiccup and sob, leaning her head against mine. “You have no idea. You have
no idea
at all how long I’ve waited to hear those words from you. I’m pretty sure it was like number three on the bucket list somewhere.”

I smile at Paige and wipe away a stray tear from her cheek, moving the waterfall of red hair she has cascading down her shoulders out of my way. “Only number three? What were the other two?”

I can see the blush forming across her cheeks from the corner of my eye. “Just stuff. Don’t worry, because the other two things have to do with you too, plus, it’s been bumped up to number one pretty easily.”

“You’re just easily impressed, that’s all,” I reply, grinning from ear to ear.

She pretends to pout before putting it away and grinning right back at me. “People told me I didn’t love you—that I didn’t know what it was because I was too young. But I knew it was something. Just like I know now. I love you so much, Elijah. So much that it scares me sometimes.”

I’m not one to cry, and this occasion isn’t any different, but something stirs in me and makes my chest ache as though I’ve been crying forever. “I want to give you all of this and more. I’ll even give you my rusty heart, if you’ll have it. I’m not sure how well it works, and I’m pretty sure it’s an old model, but it’s there for you if you want it.”

Paige throws her arms around my neck until our breath mingles together. “Only if we can make an even trade. Your heart for mine.”

She tastes and smells like mint and lemon tea, and it’s all I can do to not completely devour her right here. The question is begging me to ask it, telling me it’s time.

Clearing my throat, I carefully pull us apart so that we’re looking each other right in the eyes. Her big blue ones are bloodshot, but they’ve never looked so goddamn beautiful.

It’s weird, because even right before huge games where we play in front of thousands of people, nothing is scarier than this. Nothing has ever pumped as much adrenaline through my veins. “You’re the only one I would ever share my life with. If you intend for me to be happy and
not
a lonely bastard forever, then you’ll marry me and put me out of my misery.”

T
he little embers
of hope turn into a big, bright flare that consumes everything in me. Words like
share, marry, forever
—they fuel the fire, and I’m so overwhelmed that I can’t move. When you see these fictional grand gestures on TV, you think it’s so beautiful, so romantic. But nothing compares to the reality of Elijah walking up to me, true vulnerability shining in his eyes while he waits for my answer. It’s so easy to see how it could make or break him. He’s handed me his whole heart, hoping that I’ll take it. And I can’t move.

But the tears stream down my face on their own. Little by little, I start to come back to reality, finally letting the smile that’s been screaming to come out appear. It’s very likely that it won’t go away, like, ever.

He’s holding his breath, and I finally let mine out. In a rush of air, I manage to give him my answer. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes.
Always
.”

Elijah pulls me up against his chest, crushing me, his hands running through my hair so that he pulls it all away from my face and kisses me full on my mouth. That’s when I realize his face is wet too, and we’re just one big, wet mess, laughing and crying to ourselves. We look completely insane, I’m sure, but it’s no matter. I’m also pretty damn sure that there has never been another moment on the face of this earth were two people have been happier than right now. Dramatic? Absolutely. True? Absolutely.

Now that it’s out there, and oh my God, I’m
actually
going to marry Elijah Witter—Simmons, what-the-hell-ever—I’m ready to jump around the room and dance, screaming at the top of my lungs. I’ve never been more excited about anything in my entire goddamn life.

And it’s not just the me
right now
that’s excited—it’s all the versions of me that have ever existed. The younger Paige, who missed opportunities left and right because she wasn’t sure enough of herself. The little Paige, who got made fun of for her red hair and freckled face. The Paige who just hit puberty and suddenly sprouted boobs overnight, it seemed, only to get constantly razzed on by the guys in class. And the Paige that had to watch her best friend move across the country, only to never see him again. Until now.

As I hold on to my now fiancé (holy hell, that’s so exciting to think), the pages of my many memories start to flip backward, reliving little moments of the past that led me to where I am now.

I’m standing on the front porch step, and Mama and Stacey are already in the car. I think they’re getting ready to leave me behind, but Mama hops back out, smiling over the top of the car and waving me to come on. “I thought you were going to leave me, Mama!” She just smiles at me and shakes her head. “No way, baby. I’d never leave you. I would never forget you for nothin’.”

I’m standing on the front porch, and Stacey is holding onto my shoulders, tears staining both of our shirts. Mama is being taken to the Reeves Center, where she’ll be living from now on. After last night’s fiasco, where she tried to choke Stacey because she couldn’t remember who she was, we knew it was time. But she always told us she would never forget us.

I’m jumping up and down in my bedroom, holding my therapy license close to my chest. It’s the first time in my life that I’ve ever accomplished something and seen it all the way through without missing a beat. No one is here but me to enjoy the music, and I’m happy for it. I don’t need anyone else to be happy any more.

“Here.” I hand him my favorite book. It’s more beat up than the rest, but that’s because I love it so much. “Just don’t mess it up, okay?” He stands in the middle of the forest with me, looking confused like I just told him 2+2 = 5. “What the hell is this for?” I frown at him because he knows better than to talk to a young lady like that. At least, that’s what my Mama would say if she were here. I’m kind of thankful she’s not and that I get Elijah all to myself. “It’s for you to learn to read, duh. I’m gonna teach you.”

“Was that weird?” He sets his soda down and does that funny thing where he runs his hands through his hair, making it stick up all sorts of ways. “Sorry.” But I don’t want him to say sorry. And I like that he didn’t care what other people think. Kissing me out here in the middle of the world, where everyone can see if they want to. He’s brave. He’s brave in ways I’ll never be, and even though it kind of makes me mad, it kind of makes me happy too. “No. I actually sort of . . . liked it.”

I get the feeling that similar thoughts are running through Elijah’s mind when he looks between my eyes, one at a time before leaning in to give me another soft kiss.

“I know all this is out of nowhere. But you have got to understand that to me, it’s not. To me, it has been building up and building up since the beginning. I know it’s a lot, but we can figure it all out together. We’ll get the details down, starting tomorrow,” he says in my ear, his breath tickling my skin.

“Starting tomorrow?” I ask. “What’s wrong with starting right now?”

He chuckles and drags his lips down my neck, one kiss at a time, sending delicious chills down my spine. “Yes, tomorrow. I have other important plans to attend to tonight.”

The way he says it is enough to make me melt right in front of him, but I don’t, and I stand my ground, loving this little exchange between us. “And what would these important plans happen to be?”

“I’ve been working on rehabilitating this injury I have, you see. It’s taken me a while, but I think I’ve finally healed up. I just need to . . . test it out some. Make sure everything’s in working order.”

“Judging by the way you just carried my big butt in here, I think it’s safe to say that you’re probably right.”

Elijah’s hands go to the small of my back, pushing me up against him until I can feel his hardness settled against my stomach. “I know I’m right. The fun part will be trying to prove it again,” he says, kissing my collarbone. “And again.” Now, his mouth is trailing down to that funny constellation of freckles on my shoulder. “And again. There are multiple tests that must be done, you see.” His lips don’t stop here.

He slowly pulls the hem of my sweater up, revealing the pale skin underneath, where he places a kiss on either side of my navel. Oh God. This is really happening, isn’t it?

“I seem to remember that it’s been entirely too long since I’ve tasted you. Don’t you agree?”

But I’m not at all capable of conversation here, not when I’m getting ready to jump out of my skin because I’m so fucking turned on. All it takes is Elijah pulling my sweater up, inch by inch, until he’s push it up over my breasts, before I’m completely soaked with wetness. If there is any one talent Elijah possesses in this world, it’s the insane ability to make me wet at the drop of a dime.

“There are other things, other places I want to test, but I’m dying, Paige. I’m dying to lick your sweet pussy.” As if to further emphasize his words while his mouth ghosts over the tops of my breasts that are spilling out over my bra, his hand slides into my underwear easily, very softly stroking the soft skin of my bare mound. “Yes,” he says against my rib cage as he bends down further and further. “I’m definitely going to have to take my time here. Let’s make it a little game—a game called How Long Can Paige Stand On Her Feet? I bet you don’t last very long.”

I take in a sharp breath as he traces his tongue around the outline of my belly button, making quick work of the button and zipper of my jeans. He has me step out of them, and now, I’m standing here the middle of my new, beautiful room, shivering as Elijah’s mouth trails farther down south on my body.

God, I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on, and that’s saying something. That time when Elijah licked my pussy through the massage chair? That was pretty damn hot, if I do say so myself. Even then, it doesn’t compare to this moment right now. Knowing that Elijah is giving everything to me, wanting nothing in return but my love. Knowing that very thing is the magic behind how I feel now. What he is doing to my body and the words he is speaking to me are amazing, but it’s the love behind them that fuels me.

He pushes my legs just slightly apart now that he’s on his knees and kisses my panty-clad pussy, one small peck at a time. It’s driving me wild, and my legs are shaking, turning into jelly and making it already incredibly hard to stand. And he hasn’t even really begun.

When Elijah licks up to the very top of my slit through my underwear, I cry out, shocked at how good it feels even though there’s still a thin layer of fabric between his mouth and my skin. I feel feverish, wild and untamed. And when Elijah starts to pull my underwear down agonizingly slow, the fabric of it slick and sticking to my soaked pussy until it pulls away with the soft, wet sound, I sigh to myself. The air feels so good against my damp skin, but it’s Elijah’s warm breath that makes me shiver again.

“I’m going to enjoy this very much, I think.” He runs his thumb down my slit, and I cry out once more, knowing damn well that I’m not going to be able to hold it together much longer. He could probably breathe on my clit, and I would come instantly. Elijah’s quietly laughing to himself, a big smile on his face when I do manage to look down at him. But the smile fades away into something more intense, his hazel eyes full of the kind of lust I’ve been missing so desperately.

I want to beg him to touch me, to do those amazing things that he does with his mouth, but I don’t want to rush him. If he wants to take his time, I’m definitely not going to get in the way of that.

He turns his cheek until he’s lying up against my mound, his mouth open and breathing on me, teasing me. Now, I’m wanting to scream at him to get on with it. I don’t think I can take it much more.

“Oh, baby, I’m going to make this feel so fucking good. You have no idea.” He whispers against my skin, slowly parting my folds until I’m fully exposed to his face. “And look at how ready you are for me. You’re dripping wet, and let’s see . . .” he says before sticking his tongue right inside my pussy, swirling it around and making me moan loudly. “Yep, just right. Just like I remember.”

Elijah starts by licking a slow trail from my aching center all the way up to the very top, dragging his warm, wet tongue across every part of me in the process. Now I know I’m not to make it as my legs begin to shake like crazy again. There’s just no way.

And when he does it one more time, this time slipping two of his thick fingers inside me, stroking my G spot over and over, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to make it.

“God, you’re so tight, too. It’s amazing that I can fit my whole dick inside your tight little pussy. It’s like a miracle, really. Oh, does that feel good? It does, doesn’t it? I told you it would. What about this?”

Elijah sweeps his tongue across my delicately aching clit, and I shudder, yelling out. “Oh God, yes! Right there, right fucking there.”

He does it again, this time shoving his fingers inside me over and over again, pumping them in and out as if they were his cock filling me up. At the same time, he sucks my clit to his mouth, swirling his tongue all around it. I’m losing track of time, losing myself completely as Elijah’s tongue flicks out at me again and again. I’m shaking so hard from the ecstasy that’s building up inside me.

It explodes outward, and I rock myself hard against his tongue and fingers, nearly falling over him as I come.

He only gives me a moment to collect myself before he’s hauling me to the bed, bending me over the edge. There’s a snap behind me, and his pants fall to the floor. Elijah shoves himself deep inside me before I know what to do. I grab onto the covers, moaning his name over and over again.

He’s mumbling something under his breath, almost like he’s saying a prayer. But instead of the Lord’s prayer, it’s ‘
mine
’ passing his lips each time, in perfect rhythm with how fast he’s fucking me from behind. Like knowing I’m all his is what’s pushing him toward the edge.

“That’s right, Elijah. I’m all yours, baby. Only yours.”

It does something to him, because he smacks the hell out of both my ass cheeks until they sting, almost roaring as he comes inside me, filling me completely.

There’s one thing I know for sure as we collapse onto
our
bed together. Elijah’s shoulder has definitely healed.

-

M
ost people
who stay up late to talk to their best friend in the middle of the night are not constantly getting poked by said best friend’s dick. Elijah keeps laughing in my ear every time it happens again, admitting it’s not exactly his fault I have such a pale, round ass that needs a good ‘poking.’

We stay up, and he tells me about how free he feels now that he no longer has the weight of his father’s expectations sitting on him. I cry because yes, I’m a giant baby, and because I know him so well to know that this is a big deal for him. I can’t imagine the relief he must feel with that kind of crazy wiped away.

Being here with Elijah like this isn’t some crazy, unexpected thing—not really. Our paths must have always been meant to diverge in the way they did. It wasn’t too long ago that I thought I’d screwed it all up and I’d have to start again.