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Hendrix: A Raleigh Raptor Novel Page 13
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“I don’t know,” she admitted, her brow furrowing. “But the idea of ending whatever this is…of having to watch you across the room without having this?” She shook her head. “And knowing the season is coming up? It makes me want to throw things.”
A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “Maybe we stop with the one week, the one month, and we go for a whole season.”
Her eyes brightened. “You want that? An actual shot at…” Her lips pursed.
“Us,” I said softly. “An actual shot at us.”
“I want that,” she whispered as if admitting her greatest weakness.
“Me, too.” Even as my heart leaped, my stomach twisted. “I hate hiding it.”
“We don’t have a choice.” A line of worry crinkled her forehead.
“I know, but it doesn’t mean I like it. I hate not being able to hold your hand in public, or beat the shit out of the guys who come on to you.”
“And I hate the way other women look at you like you’re fair game. But there’s no one but you,” she promised, moving to straddle me. “And I can keep our secret in public, if you can. I’m not saying it will be easy, but it will be worth it. I’ll just have to make it up to you in private.” She gave me a wicked grin and proceeded to do just that.
14
Savannah
"I don't like this," Hendrix said as he pulled me in for a tight hug.
I could still feel the pleasant burn between my thighs from our earlier session and I took a steadying breath, savoring his scent since I’d be without it for a few days.
"I've gotten really used to having you around," he continued, pushing me out just a little so he could look down to my eyes.
And damn me to hell, but those blue eyes did everything to make me want to agree with him. To join him in his lamenting the distance.
But I knew I couldn't do that. This would be a struggle enough without me adding more of a strain into the mix.
So instead, I stepped out of his embrace and gave him the wicked little smile I knew he loved so much. The one that had gotten him to do all kinds of wicked things to my body. Warm shivers danced down my spine just thinking about it.
"Hendrix Malone, are you saying you're going to miss me?"
Hendrix scrunched up his nose as he shook his head, a slight tease to his eyes.
But I could see the truth churning in those blue depths. Even if all he would miss with me was our marathon sex sessions that left us both limp and exhausted and panting.
"It's not like you to miss a game, even if it is an away game." Hendrix shrugged, his eyes falling behind me toward the door where his game bag rested.
"Well," I said, shrugging. "You know I wouldn't miss it if it wasn't for that whole graduation thing."
"And I hate that I'm missing your graduation," he said. Something about the desperation in his voice, the battle there made my heart clench. "Just about as much as I’ll miss having you cheering for me in the stands."
I smirked at him and shook my head. "I cheer for the whole team," I said teasingly. "Not just you."
"Oh, but you would only scream for me if you came to the game now," he said, such confidence in his tone. I was delighted that his voice had almost returned to normal, but it was the storminess in his eyes just beneath the surface of his confident exterior that had me doing the unthinkable.
I reached behind me and underneath my hair, unclasping my necklace. Hendrix tracked my every move as I stepped closer, reaching up on my tiptoes to secure the necklace around his neck.
"Savannah," he chided as I took a step back. "I can't take this." He fingered the tiny, almost invisible star hanging around his neck. It settled perfectly beneath his shirt.
"I know, right?" I arched a brow at him. "It's my graduation week. I should be the one getting presents." I smirked up at him and shook my head as I laid my hand over the necklace around his neck. "I get it if you don't want to wear it, it's totally fine with me. I won't be offended. But this way you’ll have a little piece of me with you during the game. You won’t miss me as much and fumble the ball."
Hendrix growled at the joke but folded his hand over mine. His crushing blue eyes turned serious. "I won't take it off," he said, his other hand coming up to cup my cheek.
The air charged and crackled between us, filling up with all the words we weren't saying. And I clamped down on those words because damn me to hell again, my heart was beating, racing for this man. My very pulse screamed Hendrix Hendrix Hendrix. Not just because of the craving—that carnal, primal craving I had deep inside me. It was more than that. It had become more than that with each minute I’d stolen with him. And I knew that feeling inside me, that storming, swirling wave of emotion that continued to flip my stomach and stop my breath.
I'd absolutely fallen in love with Hendrix Malone.
I'd fallen in love with the man who had made it a rule not to fall in love.
A rule that I agreed to.
A rule that I’d damn near demanded.
And I’d broken that rule. I’d broken all the rules because right now, standing in his entryway with his away bag at the doorstep, and my necklace, my favorite necklace in the entire universe wrapped around his neck and him vowing not to take it off…
Fuck me.
I was hopelessly, foolishly in love with him.
I swallowed down the emotions clogging my throat—the disappointment and regret and shame at not being able to tell him the truth. And I cursed my heart because it had let me fall for a man that was completely unattainable. There was no way I could hold on to him. Right now, I was merely an anomaly. A chemical reaction of skin on skin, despite his continued extension of our little deal. That was it. Forbidden fruit. A delicious secret that upped the intensity surrounding every second we stole and weren’t caught. That's what made this game so exciting, and we’d always been so good at playing.
Before I could say anything that would either ruin the moment or ruin my life, I reached up on my tiptoes and spanned the small distance between us. I crushed my lips on his, devouring his mouth with a kiss I hoped would last the days separating us because of the away game. Normally I'd be attending, my father booking me a ticket as usual, all that experience for my sports management position coming to a head. But like Hendrix said, it was graduation week, and I had to be there to snag my diploma.
I broke the kiss a little bit too soon for either of our liking, but we both had places to be, no matter how hard we wanted to ignore those responsibilities and get lost in each other. "You're going to miss your flight," I said and backed out of his embrace. Needing the space between us to ground my senses.
"I know," he said, his eyes raking the length of my body, and I could see behind those flickering blue flames everything he wanted to do to me. Everything he could do to me and everything he would do to me when he got home.
Home.
To me. Hopefully. Not that I'd be waiting impatiently in his house or anything, but we kept amending our timeline one week, one month, and now one season. What would come next? Would anything come next? Or would this away game finally be the true test to get ourselves out of each other's systems.
I knew for me it wouldn’t be true.
There wouldn’t be enough time or distance to ever scrape my skin raw of Hendrix Malone.
"I'm so damn proud of you," he said as he scooped up his away-game bag and opened the front door.
I swallowed another ball of emotion and smiled at him. "You better be," I said, hiding my true emotions but needing that teasing banter we'd always been so comfortable with. "Once I walk across the stage and get that degree, I'm only one step away from being contract manager for the Raptors. You better treat me right, Hendrix Malone, or else you might end up with a ridiculous clause in your next contract."
Hendrix growled and gave me a chiding look. "You wouldn't dare, Butterfly."
"That sounds an awful lot like a challenge."
"And you never back down from that," he teased, and then flashe
d me a wink. "Have London take a picture of you in your cap and gown for me, okay?"
With that simple question—the normality of it and the genuine pride in his eyes—threatened to bring tears from my own. I swallowed them down, steeled my spine, and gave him the shakiest nod that I could. And something about the way he looked me over made it seem like he wanted to say more, but he ended up pressing his lips together, shaping them into that wolfish smirk I knew and loved, and then headed out the door.
And I stood in his entryway for far longer than I should've, despite him telling me I could sleep over when he was gone.
I stood there and looked at that closed door, lingered in his scent that remained, and laid my hand over my chest. It felt empty, half because I'd taken off the necklace I hadn’t taken off in years, but mainly because I'd given him something else too, and he didn't even have a clue.
I'd given him something I’d never given anyone else before. Something he absolutely did not want.
My heart.
"Does anyone else feel like they're going to puke?" London asked as she fanned herself with her traditional cap, her gown billowing over her petite frame.
Paul and I laughed behind her from our places in line.
I placed a very supportive hand on her back, smiling at her. "It will be over before you know it," I said. Not totally immune to the nerves that tingled in my gut. Maybe I’d feel more like throwing up if I actually had somebody in the audience watching me. But all my boys were in the air.
The Raptors had won their away game, but they weren't due back until late this evening.
And it didn't bother me, not really. Not when walking across the stage and grabbing a piece of paper that represented the last three years of my accelerated work wasn't really that important. I mean, nothing was truly monumental about walking a short distance. Right?
"You busted your ass for years," I said. "This is the moment you've been waiting for. Once you get that piece of paper, you’re days away from taking up permanent residence with the Carolina Reapers."
"Hell yes," Paul agreed. "At least you know what you're doing with your life because I haven't got a clue what I'll do with this damn degree."
London and I laughed, the tension and pride rippling off of us in waves. She looked a little less like throwing up and a little more like sprinting across the stage to get this moment over with as quickly as possible. And I couldn't help but agree. Because while I was super stoked to be done with college and put this chapter of my life behind me, I was more excited about tonight, more nervous about what would happen.
Hendrix had texted me when he could, but away games meant busy schedules, and I knew that better than anyone. I also knew what Hendrix liked to do in the downtime during away games, and that was troll for the nearest blonde who wanted to perch on his lap.
Jealousy and anger twisted my stomach, followed quickly by a sticky, heavy wave of shame. We agreed not to sleep with other people, regardless of this not being a real relationship. Hendrix respected the terms of the rules we'd set.
Except for the one that we kept changing—the timeline.
And of course me breaking rule number five. Not that I was about to tell him that.
The dean of our school continued to call names as the lines grew shorter and shorter and closer to London’s turn.
I shoved my emotions in a box, content to deal with them later, and stayed distracted enough to know that I wouldn't text Hendrix. I’d simply hope he’d text me first when he landed. And if he didn't? Then I’d have to find a way to be content with that. I’d have to find a way to make peace with the fact that I'd gotten to live next to a roaring flame, for as long as a person like me survive it. Because Hendrix Malone wasn’t somebody you locked down with ties of monogamy and exclusivity. He was as bright as a shooting star and just as hot, moving at breakneck speeds across the universe. Untouchable. Indestructible. Brilliant.
The dean called London's name, and we all cheered for her along with her family seated in the auditorium. She hustled across the stage with the elegance and grace her sweet stature demanded, and she took the diploma from the dean's hands and staged the best pose for a graduation picture I'd ever seen. And then it was my turn.
And there were claps for me, the polite kind, and a couple of cheers from Paul and London, but there was one cheer that rang out above the rest. One whistle I knew all too well. And just as I took my diploma from the dean's hands and the photographer snapped the picture, I had the biggest smile on my face so much it hurt.
Because Hendrix Malone was in the front row, standing up and whistling so loud he was making a spectacle of himself. So much so that some of the family members were gaping up as they recognized who sat next to them.
I hurried off the stage. Hendrix beamed at me as I rushed toward him. He met me at the bottom of the stairs, and I made sure to cheer for Paul as he went behind me before launching into Hendrix’s arms.
"How are you here?" I asked, breathless as we ducked into a hallway right next to the stage. "You're supposed to be in the air right now."
Hendrix didn't waste time with an answer, instead planting me with a congratulatory kiss that was enough to make my knees weak. "I booked an earlier flight," he said after he released me. "I barely made it, but I had to see you walk across that stage."
And just like that, the doubts and worries and fears melted away. Burned to ash by his genuine thoughtfulness in his ability to surprise me and shake me to my core.
I parted my lips several times, trying to express my gratitude for his surprise appearance, but came up short. None of my words seemed good enough for him, good enough to express what this meant to me. Tears made my eyes glisten, his immaculate body going fuzzy around the edges.
He cupped my cheeks, tilted my head, and kissed me again. Kissed me as if he knew I couldn't speak properly.
But I could kiss him.
I could kiss him and show him how much he meant to me. Silently, effortlessly, hungrily. Soon the kiss turned carnal. Because it had been a few days, and I missed him so much it hurt. And I hated acknowledging how much it hurt, but I couldn’t deny it. And I hated not knowing if he felt the same way, but he was here, and he was kissing me and he was proud of me, and that was all that I could ever ask for —
"Ohmigod, Savannah!" London squealed, tugging on my robe. I whirled around, ready to half-heartedly school my roommate and best friend for breaking up a kiss as hot as this, but she opened her mouth before I could even get a tease out. "Isn't that your dad?"
"Holy shit!" I gasped as I saw my father scanning the auditorium, looking fresh off of a flight.
"Damn," Hendrix said. "He must've had the same idea I did." Hendrix glanced at me, debate raging in his eyes, but I nodded at him, urging him to go. It meant everything that he was here, and I tried to convey that as best I could in the look I gave him as he rushed out of the auditorium, but there was no need for him to lose his contract right now. If my dad caught us? There would be hell to pay. Those are the rules he’d laid out, but I was getting really sick and talking tired of rules.
Especially since I was my own goddamn woman.
But all of that melted into the distance as my father finally found London and I, and grouped us up in a big hug, one filled with all the dad-pride that this auditorium could handle. And I realized how incredibly I lucky I was to have two wonderful men in my life who had jumped through hoops to get here on my big day. Even when I told them both it wasn't a big deal.
It had been a big deal to them.
They’d made the day even better.
And as my father insisted he take London, her family, and myself out for a celebratory dinner, we headed to the parking lot a mess of low laughter and chattered accomplishments.
My heart felt just the tiniest bit of sadness that Hendrix wasn’t enjoying this dinner with us. But there was also hope pulsing right next to it.
Hope that eventually, when I figured out exactly what Hendrix wanted, if I was what he actual
ly wanted, then I could go to my father and be honest with him. Tell him how much Hendrix meant to me. And hopefully my father would understand and invite him into our family.
A sliver of fear crept into my blood at what my father would do if he found out before I was honest with him. But I couldn't do it now. Couldn't risk it without talking to Hendrix first. Because there would only be one thing worth risking the wrath and coming clean with Dad, and I didn’t have a clue if Hendrix was there or not. Wasn’t sure if Hendrix would ever be there with me.
So, I took a deep breath and contented myself with the happiness radiating from my heart in this moment. Such a pure happiness, one I hadn’t felt in such a long time.
And I covered myself with a blanket of hope, thinking for the first time in months that maybe Hendrix Malone and I were something more than a contract.
Something more than forbidden frenzy.
Maybe we could be happy. Indefinitely.
15
Hendrix
The roar of the crowd filled my ears and rumbled in my chest as Dallas received the kickoff. Home games were always amazing, but there was something to be said for the first one of the season. The energy was unparalleled…until we made it to the playoffs, of course. Then shit got crazy.
But this right here? The buzz of excitement, the adrenaline coursing through my veins—there was nothing compared to it. Except being inside Savannah. Nothing even came close.
I’d kept my eyes off the stands since we’d come on the field, but I lost the battle with my self-control and glanced back at the family section. Then that glance turned into a full-on stare as I saw Savannah next to Liberty and Teagan. I didn’t need her to turn around to know that the number on the back of her jersey was mine—I’d seen her put it on this morning because she’d woken up in my bed, whispering happy birthday before giving me a pre-dawn workout. I couldn’t have asked for a better start to my birthday.
My chest swelled as she met my gaze with a grin. Damn, this woman had me tangled up in knots. Every second I couldn’t be with her, I was focused on getting to the ones when I could be.