Infraction Page 6

  More protective than he was now, if that was even conceivable to imagine.

  “Jax?” I repeated. “Who the hell knows? Probably going over film or some shit.” I shrugged, pulling Kinsey tighter against me, and then in a move I knew would get us to the point faster and out of the damn parking lot, I mentally apologized to Kins, Jax, God, my own damn lusting body, and reached for her chin. Her skin was soft everywhere, my finger tilted that mouth toward mine and sealed our relationship with one hot open-mouthed kiss.

  She snaked her arms around my neck, her mouth parting with a moan before scratching those nails up my head in a way that sent all the wrong signals to all the right places.

  Full breasts plastered against my chest, and because I could, because I was a bastard who clearly had no self-control, I gripped her ass with my right hand and squeezed.

  Kins gave a little yelp, then bit down on my lower lip before I chuckled against her mouth then whispered, “Sorry, I couldn’t control myself.”

  At least that was true.

  We were both panting, her face was flushed, that gorgeous pale face with those fully kissed lips and deep-blue eyes.

  By the time I faced Anderson again, his smile was cool, his eyes narrowing more and more by the second. “I can’t imagine Jax is happy with this.” He wagged a finger between both of us then rested that same finger on his chin before touching his ball cap and giving it a nervous tug over his eyes.

  “Well . . .” Kinsey gripped my hand. A woman that tiny should never be able to squeeze as hard as she was squeezing. “Jax is kind of the one who set us up, right, Chicken?”

  I pinched her ass again, hoping she’d release my hand; if anything it made her squeeze harder. “That’s right, Waffle Cakes, I’ve actually never seen your brother happier.”

  She gulped and her eyes flickered before she pasted on a smile. “So true.”

  “Uh-huh.” Anderson nodded again. Damn it, enough with the cocky look and the nodding! “Well, that’s great. I’m happy for you, Kinsey. And Miller, I should warn you that she’s a handful.” He moved to walk past us and lifted his hands in the air. “But I’m sure you’re probably already aware of what it takes to keep her in line.”

  “The fuck?” I started charging toward him but was stopped by a small hand on my arm.

  “I’ll take it easy on him,” Kinsey replied to Anderson with a brave smile. “Let’s go, baby, I’m driving.”

  “You gave her keys?” Anderson’s eyes widened until I thought they were going to pop out of his head. “To your car?”

  “She’s a great driver,” I lied as visions of our trip and dismemberment taunted me.

  “Whatever, man, you must have it bad if you think that. She nearly ran over my grandma.”

  Kinsey turned her head and whispered, “Probably because Grandma’s a whore.”

  I barely kept my laugh in before Anderson nodded one last time—presumably just because he knew how much it pissed me off—and went into the facility.

  By the time I turned around, Kinsey had already started the car.

  “That went well.” I buckled up.

  She hit the accelerator so hard that I was suddenly thankful for air bags, and when she didn’t say anything, I tried to engage in conversation, but was met with a speeding tyrant every time I tried. So I stopped.

  I let her enjoy the silence.

  The speed.

  And didn’t even argue when she pulled up to my apartment building and parked in my spot—one I hadn’t even realized she knew was mine.

  Still silent all the way to the elevator.

  And to the penthouse.

  “You know where my hide-a-key is too?” I grumbled behind her, only to shut my mouth when she reached under the mat, then under the mat under the mat, and pulled out the hot pink key, sliding it into the lock and letting herself in.

  “Who are you?” I slammed the door behind me. “I’ve never shown anyone that hiding spot.”

  “First of all, it’s a shit hiding spot.” She flipped her dark long hair over her shoulder. “Second, you showed Emerson, so you basically showed me.”

  “I didn’t show Emerson shit!” Did I? Damn it, Sanchez probably told her. The man told Em everything.

  “You did.” She gave an exasperated exhale, and made herself at home, going into my kitchen, grabbing some Gatorade—my Gatorade—and then flipping off her sneakers and grabbing the remote.

  Confused as hell, I looked around and then finally joined her on the couch. “Are you moving in or something? Because I gotta be honest, Kins, I like my naked time and I’m pretty sure if you don’t participate it’s against the rules. Also, I want to stay alive, and if Jax ever found out you were in my apartment he’d kill me.”

  “It’s not like we’re having sex.” She shrugged.

  “What?” I jerked my attention back to her. “It doesn’t matter! We’re alone! You’re forgetting last season when he nearly shoved me off a building for standing next to you at the bar!”

  “He was kidding.” She waved me off and clicked “On.” “Ballers!”

  “Oh really? Is that why he said ‘I want to kill you’? Because he was kidding?”

  “You were new to the team last year. He was being his overprotective self. Besides”—she leaned her body back against the couch cushions—“he trusts you now, remember that part of the conversation? Where you probably replayed visions of me naked in that hotel bed and nodded your head at him like you’re actually worthy of that same trust?”

  I glared. “Wrong.” I jerked the remote from her hand. “He can trust me.”

  “Can he?”

  “Are you asking for him or for you?”

  She looked away, crossing her arms. “I’m not going to say anything to Jax, that’s not what this is about.”

  “Then, care telling me what this is about? Because a few hours ago I was under the impression that the only time we’re faking anything is when we’re out in public, and now your feet are on my coffee table, your sweat is currently mixing with my brand-new leather couch, and you stole my favorite flavor of Gatorade.”

  Right, because that kiss had been fake, lying bastard.

  She grabbed the bottle of fruit punch flavor and chugged half of it before handing it to me. “Chill, Gator police, there were two left.”

  “That’s not the point!”

  “Then what is? I’m trying to watch TV here.”

  “You have a place!” Was she really this dense? I’d known her for over a year, had seen her naked, and not once had I ever gotten the whole crazy vibe from her. “Kins?”

  With a sigh, she hung her head. “If I sneeze wrong, Jax stops and drops everything and forces me to call the doctor. Swear to all that’s holy, one time he actually said, ‘Your cough sounds different, I think it’s swine flu, we’re going to the ER.’”

  I whistled. “Shit, Kins, that’s some next-level brotherly affection.”

  “He’s protective.” A smile teased her mouth. “And I love him for it. I think it’s because I was actually really sick when I was little—not the point.” She held up her hand like she didn’t want me to ask questions. Like it wasn’t my place to be curious. “The point is, if I go home right now, he’s going to see right through me”—she rolled her eyes—“and I don’t want to lie to him. Not with everything going on. Because I know him the way he knows me, Miller. He’s going to kill himself trying to figure out if it’s Dad or if it’s you or if it’s Anderson, and then he’s going to play like shit because when he should be thinking about football, he’s going to be thinking about all the things he can’t control but wishes he could.” She finally exhaled. “So I’m here, in your crazy fancy penthouse apartment, because I need a minute, alright? Can you give that to me?”

  Too shocked to answer right away, I took a few breaths then finally nodded. “Yes. On one condition.”

  Her eyes locked with mine, and though I wasn’t as practiced as Jax since he had twenty-two more years of knowing Kinsey, I saw
the fear, the slight hesitation. Because as much as I liked to think I didn’t care about her. I did. I really fucking cared. And it all started the minute she and I became friends and then made a stupid-as-hell decision to kiss each other, then peel each other’s clothes off and—the point? I started to notice details.

  And every detail was important.

  From the way she carried herself, to the way her face lit up when she talked about football.

  To the irritated look on her face when she was too tired to fight.

  And when she was turned on . . .

  Her cheeks blushed and she bit her lip when she was turned on.

  Those were dangerous realizations to have.

  Just another reason I let her go.

  And another reason I should again.

  “I need you to take a shower.”

  She blew out a shaky breath. “Are you saying I smell?”

  I leaned in and sniffed. “Like salty waffles with a bit of dirty sports bra on the side.”

  She crooked her finger and then brought my shirt to her face. “And you smell like a chicken that crossed the road and got hit by a semi carrying a special order of shit, and yet, here I am, ready to forgive you for it. Some friend you are.”

  I licked my lips.

  Automatic response to her nearness and the fact that I was a liar, she didn’t smell bad, she smelled perfect, like one perfect mistake away from being even sweatier, in my bed, with my hands on her.

  The door to my apartment swung open.

  “Fuck, does everyone have a key?” I whispered under my breath.

  “Why is she sniffing your shirt?” Sanchez grinned, rocking back on his heels before winking at Kinsey and then shaking his head at me. I expected a high five next, followed by a “So what’s he like in bed?”

  Thank God Emerson intervened and smacked him in the stomach.

  “Thanks, Em.” I slowly moved away from Kins, putting enough space between us that we looked like friends, not seconds away from screwing against the couch.

  “You guys are dating?” She spread her arms wide.

  Sanchez narrowed his eyes. “You both flinched.”

  “Muscle spasm.” I coughed. “We just got done lifting.”

  “Wow, I feel like I just got cheated on.” Sanchez shook his head slowly. “If you benched, we’re through.”

  “Nah, I save that for you,” I said in a sarcastic voice.

  “My man.” He held out a fist. “And you don’t get spasms, I’m not buying it.”

  “I do ever since she drove my car, nearly killed us and buried me in it.”

  “You let Kins operate heavy machinery?”

  “Ever since I held him at gunpoint.” Kinsey made a little gun motion with her hand and shot in my direction.

  “Yeah, I don’t buy it.” Sanchez and Emerson matched poses, making me nervous as hell. How did they even know anything? It had been hours ago, not days, and it’s not like either of us went to social media.

  “And Jax? He’s just okay with this? He knows?” Emerson started walking toward us. “He tried to kill you last year.”

  “Thank you! I said the same thing.” I glared at Kinsey before shrugging. “He is, uh, encouraging . . . it.”

  “It?” Sanchez grinned. “What exactly is it? Like how big is it? How pleasing? Does it like—”

  I flipped him off.

  He stopped talking and then burst out laughing. “Holy shit, does he know you guys slept together?”

  Damn it, the only reason Sanchez even knew was because he’d seen her naked in my bed and made an assumption. A correct one, but still an assumption.

  “Say it louder, Sanchez, I don’t think the East Coast heard you!” Kinsey jumped to her feet. “And no, he doesn’t KNOW about that, which is why your friend Miller here is still breathing!”

  “And yet you’re dating?” Emerson was clearly having trouble putting the pieces together.

  Shit. I didn’t want to lie to my best friends, the people who literally helped me make it through one of the hardest years of my life—even though they were partially the cause of it.

  “Look.” Kinsey reached for my hand. “You can’t say anything about the sex.”

  “I’m so confused.” Sanchez pulled out a chair and sat. “But he knows you’re dating?”

  “We’re taking it slow.” Even as the words tumbled from my mouth, I wanted to choke myself to death. Going slow? Really, man? “It’s the only way that Jax would give me permission.”

  If Sanchez’s eyes got any wider, they’d pop out of his stupid-ass head. “You asked . . . for permission?” As much as I wanted to tell Sanchez what was really going on, he’d ask too many questions I wasn’t prepared to answer.

  “Guys!” Kins saved me by grabbing my hand and, for once, not squeezing it so hard that I winced in front of them. “This is a good thing. Just be happy for us.”

  Emerson still didn’t look like she was buying it. “Look, we are, it’s just, I mean how long has this been going on?”

  “Since Vegas,” Kins offered. “We kept in touch over email, texts”—her face flushed with the lie—“that sort of thing.”

  The lies kept piling on.

  And with that.

  The guilt.

  Because in order to forget her, I had to cut off all contact when she was in Europe.

  I’d never sent any texts.

  I’d never emailed.

  I hadn’t called.

  It was as if what we had done never happened—it was bad enough that I helped pack her shit and pretended I wanted her to go by not meeting her eyes when she called out my name. I just turned and walked away.

  (Then)

  “Miller.” Her voice was shaking. “Don’t you—”

  “—you should probably pack some stuff into your carry-on,” I grumbled. “It’s a long flight, I’m sure you’re first class but—”

  “—Miller.” I really needed her to stop saying my name, because each and every time she did, my resistance wavered, and my desire to keep her by my side increased. All I wanted to do was lock her in the room and figure out what the hell was going on between us and why my body was reacting with such a violent need to kiss her again.

  Nothing good would come from ruining the only other friendship I’d ever had with a girl. God, I was such a dick.

  I just had to kiss her.

  I just had to see her naked.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Kins.”

  She walked over to me, her eyes clear. As she blinked up at me, waiting, her stance was cautious, closed off. Already she was protecting herself from what she probably assumed was coming.

  Rejection.

  “This will be good for you,” I finally said. “Yeah?”

  Please say no. Say. No.

  Instead she hung her head, then walked off and whispered, “Sure.”

  I’d been a dick on purpose.

  I wasn’t ready for a relationship, not after all the shit last year with Em. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I had a functioning heart anymore—or if I was capable of giving Kins what she needed.

  God, that entire situation with Em had been so painful that the possibility of reliving it was the most terrifying thing I could imagine. Emerson had decided we were done before I even knew there was a chance for reconciliation—and I couldn’t bear the thought that Kins would do the same thing, so I did it first.

  With Kins the relationship part would be too easy.

  To date.

  To like her.

  To love her.

  To lose her.

  So, yeah, I felt guilty. Guilty that I was lying, yet confused as to why it felt like I was lying to myself more.

  “That’s . . .” Em frowned. “Awesome!”

  “You’re frowning,” I pointed out.

  “Well, it’s just, I mean I’m not trying to make this about me, but why didn’t you guys say anything? Why all the secrecy?”

  “I think you know the answer to that, Curves.” Sanchez gav
e me a knowing look. “And I think, given your history with dipshit over here . . .”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

  “You should cut him some slack.”

  Emerson’s face fell. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think—”

  “No worries,” Kins interrupted her with a cheerful smile. “So, just curious, but how did you guys find out?”

  Sanchez held out his phone. “It’s all over social media. A picture of you guys in the car surfaced and then one where you guys were seriously making out in the parking lot.”

  “How the hell would anyone get that? The only guy there was Anderson and we were talking to him the whole time.”

  “Except when your tongue was down her throat, it seems.” Sanchez widened the picture. Damn, we looked good together. Keep yourself in check, Miller. “Look at the angle, it had to be that dickface.”

  “Up top for name calling!” Kins held out her hand to Sanchez, and surprisingly he returned her high five. Those two were always at each other’s throats, so not only was their current behavior a welcome change it also took everyone’s focus off the fact that I was grabbing her ass in the picture, and I’m pretty sure that Jax’s exact words were “you won’t touch her.”

  And just like that, my phone started to ring.

  With Jax’s name popping up on the screen.

  Sanchez barked out a laugh. “Put it on speakerphone.”

  “Hell no!” I jerked my phone out of his reach and hit “Ignore.”

  “This is the absolute best. Almost better than that time Emerson chose me over you and agreed to marry me.” He was teasing, but I still wanted to punch him in the face. “What? Still too soon?”

  “You’re a jackass,” Kins hissed at him.

  “I’m her jackass.” He pointed to Emerson, who grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him back toward the door. “What? Where we going?”

  She whispered something in his ear.

  He shoved her out the door, and it slammed behind them.

  “Wonder what she said,” Kins mumbled.