She was still so tight around me, little echoes pulsing from her walls as my cock gradually grew limp inside her.
With legs weak and shaking, I took us back to the bench and set her down carefully before leaning back against the hot wood, sweat running in rivulets across my shoulders and down my chest. My hand drifted through her hair as she shifted next to me, and the tension that had been wired through every fiber of my body for days was gone, replaced by something light and clear and impossibly good.
She looked up at me, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and that crooked smile of hers made my chest thrum all over again.
“How’d I do?” she asked, voice teasing but breathless.
I let out a soft, fucked-out laugh, pressing my lips to her neck, along her jaw, and finally nipping at her ear.
“Feels like you’re the magical antidote to everything,” I murmured.
Nicole’s blush flared, and she grabbed her towel, wrapping it around herself with a flick of movement that somehow made my pulse skip. She tossed my towel toward me without breaking eye contact.
“How about you buy this antidote some dinner?”
I laughed again, and draped the towel around my waist. “As soon as I get the feeling back in my legs.”
23
Nicole
The cafe was quiet by design. Small tables, neutral music kept low enough to disappear into clinking cutlery and the murmur of conversations that stayed carefully uninteresting. It was the kind of place people picked when they wanted to be seen behaving themselves.
James sat across from me with his jacket folded over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled as if this were any other weekday lunch. His posture was relaxed. That alone made my teeth press together.
I set my phone beside my plate, screen down, a small boundary I could move if I needed to. The chair legs scraped when I crossed my ankles, the sound louder than I intended. James glanced up, then down again, the faintest lift of his brows acknowledging it without comment.
“So,” he said, fingers closing around his water glass. “Thanks for meeting me.”
I didn’t answer right away. I picked up my fork, nudged at the salad I hadn’t touched, then met his eyes. “Don’t confuse this with courtesy.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. He didn’t apologize either. “I figured you’d want to talk.”
“That’s generous of you.” I kept my voice level, pitched just above the music, low enough that the table beside us wouldn’t hear my words. “Given how much you’ve already said without me in the room.”
His jaw worked once, and he took a sip of water to hide his growing agitation. “You know I didn’t want it to go this far.”
I let the silence stretch just long enough to make him uncomfortable. A server passed behind me carrying plates, steam rising and gone in a blink. Somewhere near the window, a couple laughed. Life continued as if nothing had detonated at all.
“You pressed charges,” I said. “That wasn’t the system running on its own. That was a choice.”
James lowered his voice. “He hit me.”
“He intervened.” I leaned forward, just enough to make the point unavoidable, my elbows staying clear of the table. “I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t.”
“You’re simplifying.”
“I’m clarifying.” My salad was long forgotten now, along with any appetite I might have had coming in here. “Because while you’re busy framing this as a personal grievance, Landon’s career is taking the hit.”
A muscle jumped along his cheek. “That’s not on me. That’s on the league. On the team. On how they choose to handle it.”
“You knew exactly how they would handle it.” I kept my smile tight, civil enough so I wouldn’t raise any alarm bells at the neighboring tables. “Playoffs. Public image. Zero tolerance slogans plastered all over the arena. You didn’t just throw apunch into the void. You threw it into a machine that punishes fast and absolutely.”
James exhaled through his nose, and I caught the hint of a smirk. “I didn’t tell them to bench him.”
“You didn’t have to.” I dropped my hands into my lap, tight fists that were better off hidden. “You gave them an excuse they can’t ignore. Round one. Game one. He’s out, James. Do you understand what that means?”
His shoulders shifted, an almost-shrug. “I told you I’m not that into sports.”
