I hold my breath as I push all the way to the hilt, my arms shaking as I hover above her, mere inches from her face.
“Ro, I need you to move,” she begs, tugging at my bottom lip.She bites gently and soothes me with a lick and it takes all my willpower not to come on the spot.
“I need a second,” I rasp out, leaning my weight on one arm and wrapping the other around her thigh. The movement pushes me even further inside her and I let out a whimper.
Maggie grins at me, her hands still framing my face. She kisses me slowly, tenderly, and it makes me weak in the knees. I feel like I might blurt out a love confession any second.
We’re good at sex—hell, we’ve been practicing it for years—but it’sfeelingswe struggle with. It’s easier to push them down and smother them with the metaphorical pillow when we’re just fucking, but this feels likemore. It feels like she might let me be her world. It reminds me of our trip to Italy.
I start to move, drawing sweet moans from her lips and picking up the pace when I see her face contorting in pleasure, her eyes blinking rapidly as her second orgasm hits her. I swirl my tongue against hers, driving my cock deep inside her with every thrust. My own orgasm builds and builds until I explode inside her with a cry against her lips.
Words bubble up inside me, but I keep them to myself, crushing her against my body, holding on tightly. Like I’ll never let her go.
But they won’t stop swirling around in my brain.I want you. I need you. I love you.
All I’ve ever wanted was to be hers.
All she’s ever wanted wasthe agreement.
And yet, this feels like so much more. But I know she won’t take it well if I tell her now, and I’m terrified she’ll bolt right out of my arms.
So I don’t say it. Ineverdo.
CHAPTER 8
Maggie
February - Palm Beach
A week later,I’m in Rowan’s bed, being crushed by sixty-five pounds of pure sunshine. I grunt, begrudgingly opening my eyes to see Archie, Rowan’s golden retriever. His ears are twitching excitedly and his tongue is lolling, giving him the goofiest grin.
Archie’s paws rest on my chest and he somehow manages to put all his weight into them. “Okay, buddy, let’s get you some food. And a walk.” His ears perk up impossibly higher and he gives me an excited bark. I laugh and get out of bed, following him to the kitchen in my bare feet.
The house is empty and quiet without Rowan here. While my personality is more on the quiet and reserved side, Rowan is the complete opposite. He fills this townhouse with so much light, talking and playing with Archie, catching me up on all his friends’ shenanigans, dancing in the kitchen as he tries a new recipe.
This weekend, however, he’s visiting his mom in Charleston. When he called to tell me, I was excited, thinking that he wanted me to go with him. I love his mom and his two goofy best friends and I would have jumped at the opportunity to see them again. But instead, he asked if I could dog sit Archie.
My phone buzzes and I rush to check who’s calling me, hoping it would be Rowan. Instead, it’s my dad’s name that flashes across the screen. I silence it and let it go to voicemail. My dad and I didn’t leave things on the best of terms. Not that I expected us to.
For a while, he used to be my whole world. My best friend. His career took us all over the world, but instead of remembering the Eiffel Tower or the Big Ben—all I remember are the tennis courts. Our greatest love.
Things changed after he and my mom divorced. And when I got into Stanford, my dad was livid. He had plans for me to go pro right after high school. Follow in his footsteps. All I wanted at the time was to make him proud, but I needed to escape his influence. And the negative press that always followed him around like a dark cloud.
I realize I’m frowning at the can of dog food and shake myself out of it when Archie bumps his nose against my leg, excited for his breakfast. I smile and pet his soft golden head, leaving him to eat while I change.
Half of Rowan’s closet is full of my clothes and I grab the first thing I see fit for a run. I try not to dwell too much on the reasonwhyRowan didn’t ask me to go with him, afraid that my overthinking will spiral out of control. We’ve always been close, spending most of our time together on and beyond the court, practicing together, traveling to major tournaments, visiting our respective friends and families for the holidays.
I always thought we were on the same page, even though this agreement between us has changed over the years. We tooka break, we picked things back up, we’ve amended the list, and yet, I’ve never wanted to label this thing between us. The most obvious reason is to keep it out of the public eye, especially after how much I’ve had to deal with my family being the center of negative press, but also because I don’t want the pressure of a relationship crumbling our friendship.
Still, why didn’t he ask me to go with him?
Once I’m dressedin running shorts and my favorite navy blue tank top, I snap the leash to Archie’s collar and lead him out the front door, planning to take the path to the beach.
I take a picture of his head turned back to look at me, his face showing all the excitement in the world, and I send it to Rowan. I haven’t heard from him since last night when he landed, and I wonder if he’s sleeping in after meeting up with his friends, Garrett and Boone.
When I was in college, I didn’t have many friends, except for Rowan. In time, some of his friends have become mine as well, though I’m still nowhere near as sociable as he is. When I got a brand deal with Athlala, a national athleisure brand, I got to meet some kick ass women in other sports. Some of them have become really close friends of mine over the years.
I smile and send them the same picture of Archie. My phone immediately pings with replies from Blair and Isla.
