“Not written down,” I admit. “But I have a mental one. Shower sex was up there. The locker room definitely.”
“Where else?”
“Bus ride, plane ride, road head. Maybe on the back of a motorcycle. Your ass would look real nice bent over a bike seat.”
She tweaks my nipple. “You don’t even have a bike.”
“Not yet, but who knows.”
She scoffs. “Your NFL contract would prevent you from buying one. Isn’t there some dangerous activities ban?”
“So, I buy one, and it sits in the garage with the Bugatti and Aston Martin—and I bend you over all of those.”
“How about I do the bending?” she teases.
“I thought we were talking about my fantasies.” I roll her over before she can pinch me again because holy crap that hurt. Nipples get really sensitive when all your blood has risen to the skin. I plan to use that new knowledge to my advantage. Bracing myself over her, I bend down and nip at her mouth, and then her neck.
“When does Ty get here?” she asks.
“He’s coming straight from the airport to the game. We’ll meet him afterward. You sure you want to make dinner? Because we can go out.”
“No, I want to.” She makes a face. “I guess I want to impress him and show him how sweet and domesticated I am.”
We both laugh at that. She’s not sweet and she’s not super domesticated. She’s tart, a little mouthy, and just right for me.
“He’ll love you.”
“Really? How do you know?” Her finger writes a five repeatedly on my chest. I tell myself it’s because she’s as obsessed with me as I am with her.
“Because I do.”
She continues her finger tracing silently. I bite back my frustration. It doesn’t feel real good to have my declaration hanging out there. Maybe she didn’t get it. I rub my tongue against the roof of my mouth until I feel like I can say the words.
“I said I love you.”
It comes out as almost an accusation.
Her breath catches and she turns her face to hide it against the side of my skin. I hear something, or more accurately, feel a mumbling against my chest. When she raises her face to mine, it’s wet with tears.
With a trembling voice, her own words tumble forth. “Oh, Knox, I love you, too. I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve you.”
The real anguish in her voice kills me. I clutch her closer to me. I wish I could squeeze her uneasiness out into the open where I could bash it with my fists. But emotions don’t work like objects.
All I can do is be there for her.
28
Ellie
Tuesday
“You can stay here, you know?” Knox says as he tugs on his running shoes in the morning.
“No, you have a lot of team stuff to do and I need to work on a midterm paper for my creative writing class.” None of which I got done yesterday. He grabs my neck and pulls me in for a swift, hard kiss. I want to call him back, extend it longer because I don’t know if it’s the last one I’ll ever get from him.
“Okay. I’ll text you later.” And then he’s off.
I wait for Jack. It’s not the best time to approach him given that he has a game in a few days, but he’ll always have something going on. Today’s Tuesday. He has four days to get his head on straight. And I’m done making excuses for myself.
“What’s up, Ellie Bellie?” Jack asks as he lets himself out of his house. “Don’t tell me that you were at Masters’ until this morning. I think we work best on a Don’t Ask Don’t Tell basis,” he jokes.
“Do you have a little time?”
He checks his phone. “Sure. I planned on going over to the weight room and getting in a little cardio, but I can do that later.”
“I thought we’d go down to the park on Court and Seventh.” It’s a tiny abandoned playground with four swings and a tattered slide. I’ve never seen anyone there.
He raises his eyebrows but gestures toward his Jeep. “Sure, let’s go.”
The drive to the park on the south side of campus doesn’t take more than ten minutes. My hands shake the entire way and I have to press them between my legs to keep from alerting Jack to how upset I am.
“Do you want to get out?” he asks when he pulls onto the broken pavement.
It’s close in here. If there’s an explosion, we should probably be outside. “Yeah.”
We climb out in silence but once the doors close, Jack turns to me. “Want to tell me what is going on?”
I take a deep breath and the chill air sends a bracing shock to my lungs. “I love you, Jack.”
“Love you too, El.” His face is heavy with suspicion but he doesn’t hesitate in his reply.
Grief stings the back of my throat, making my voice hoarse and scratchy. “Do you remember when you go those two Ds in eighth grade and I offered to proof your schoolwork?”