Or would it?
Fuck, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to touch her. I tear my T-shirt off, drop it into the hamper, and grab a cloth from the sliver of a linen closet. I wash up quickly, do up my pants, and step into the other room. I can’t tell whether I’m happy or not, when I see that she’s fully dressed.
“What…what happened to your shirt?” she asks, her gaze latched on to my chest. It slides lower, and I swear to fuck her breathing has changed as her gaze moves over my abs, coming to rest on the button to my jeans.
“Got it wet,” I say and her gaze flies back to mine. I reach over my head and rub the muscle at the base of my neck. “Do you want me to help you with your boot?” I ask, as she struggles with it, her hands a bit shaky.
“No, I got it.” She finishes fastening it, and opens her mouth like she wants to say something.
“What?” I ask.
“Where…where are you going to sleep?”
“There’s a cot in the basement, I’ll bring it up.”
She nods. “Is there anything on your list that you’d like me to do?”
Oh, there was a lot of things I’d like for her to do, but none of them are on my list. My phone pings, and I pull it from my back pocket. I text Kyle back.
“I have to go,” I tell her.
“Christian, if you want to bring someone back here, you know to…fuck…I can…I don’t know, go downstairs or something.”
Hearing the word fuck on her lips just about does me in. I take a fast breath, clear my throat and say, “The guys want to pull together a practice.”
“Oh, okay.”
“If I want to fuck, you’ll be the first to know.” Wait, that didn’t come out right. “I mean, I won’t put you out. I’ll fuck elsewhere.”
“Right, okay,” she says and swallows hard.
I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “Do you…want to come watch?” Shit, why would I ask that. If she’s watching when I’m on the field, she’ll be a distraction I don’t need and she’s tortured me enough already.
She snatches up her backpack. “I think I’ll get some homework done. Besides, I know how bad Kyle is at catching and don’t want to risk another ball to the head.”
“Suit yourself.” I turn from her, a little brusque—even though she’s trying to lighten the mood—and I don’t mean to be a dick. I’m the one who brought her here.
“Christian.”
“Yeah?” I say without turning back to her.
“I…I really appreciate what you’re doing for me. I know it doesn’t come across that way, but I am, and I know it was an accident and you didn’t have to do this.” I peek at her. She waves her hands as she looks around my room. “Maybe someday, I can make it up to you. Maybe you could, I don’t know…just let me know how I could do that.”
Jesus fuck, please tell me she didn’t put that on the table.
11
Maize
Two long weeks have passed since Christian first brought me to his impressive bedroom in Wolf House. Two long, agonizing, sexually frustrated weeks, that is. Why again did I tell him right from the start this wasn’t about sex? That I wouldn’t have sex? He might be sleeping on a cot, but watching him walk out of the bathroom every morning with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist is torture to the utmost extreme. I’m beginning to question whether he’s doing it on purpose. Maybe he knows what it does to me, and this is about finishing what he started in the closet all those years ago.
Oh, how I wish.
“You okay?” he asks, from the hard plastic seat beside me as I wait for my doctor’s appointment.
I shift uncomfortably, shake off my musings and nod. “Yeah, just thinking.”
He reaches out and gives my hand a squeeze. We’re friends now, and that’s what friends do, right? They give reassuring squeezes, that shouldn’t be tugging me deep in my core. I shouldn’t be feeling anything other than warm friendship. I guess the needy spot between my legs didn’t get the memo.
“I know you’re worried about running again.” His eyes hold a measure of hope and comfort as they move over my face. “It will happen. I’ll help any way I can.”
I nod and glance at our joined hands as he continues to hold mine. “It’s not as important now, thanks to your help.”
“I was responsible, which is why you’re staying with me until you heal completely,” he says, quietly, solemnly, and it’s yet another reminder that I’m at his place, not because he wants me, but because he feels responsible for me. I know a way he can pay off that debt.
Don’t go there again, Maize.
“Besides, you can’t go home. Not with the flooding.”
I sigh. “True.”
He nudges me, and turning playful, he says. “It’s not so bad, is it?”
“It’s been tolerable,” I say with a sarcastic twist of my lips. “Except for last weekend, and the partying.”
“Yeah, I was thinking about that. My buddy has a place off campus. We can stay there if you want.”
I give a fast shake of my head and my ponytail bounces. “No, I’m not putting anyone else out,” I say, lowering my voice as someone takes a seat beside me. “I’ll deal with the noise.”
He gives my hair a playful tug. “I don’t mind putting out.”
