His hair is damp with sweat as he thrusts over and over. In between, I receive a broken apology that has no place here.
“Sorry.” Thrust. “Should have.” Thrust. “Believed.” Thrust. “You!”
My hips buck frantically at his last thrust, crying out before his muscular torso shudders with pleasure. He releases a groan from deep inside. Still, his hips continue to thrust through his orgasm.
He knows my body too well. Grinding his pelvis into mine, a mew of pleasure escapes my lips before I clench down on his cock.
My orgasm causes me to soar. Even spent, Brennan rides me through it until my whimpers of pleasure change to a hiss of sensitivity.
My eyes drift shut as Brennan’s hips stop moving. I’m spent, and I know he is by the way his head is laying above my heart. His body pins mine to the wall, arm gripping my waist as if he can’t imagine letting me go.
He shifts, gripping the base of the condom as he pulls out of me, freeing me to unlock my legs from around his waist. I gingerly lower them to the floor, as he steps back to deal with the condom–tying it off and wrapping it in a tissue. He quirks his brow in an unspoken question.
I point in the direction of the kitchen directly behind him. “You can throw it out in the trash under the sink.”
I hear the cabinet door open before the sink turns on. As he cleans up, my shaking hands try to do up the buttons to my pajama shirt. I need a barrier between me and him. Between what my heart is longing for and the reality that hasn’t been addressed.
As if I summoned him, he returns from the kitchen. Spying my fingers frantically pushing buttons through holes, he steps closer. “Why are you doing that, Amy? I’m just going to take it off you in a few minutes.”
I slide as far away as I can get in the entry. “Don’t assume sex means acceptance.”
His expression is one of incredulity. “Of course, I wouldn’t think that. I just thought…”
I cut him off before he can say another word. “I need to say something and you need to listen.”
15
CHECKING FROM BEHIND: A DANGEROUS AND ILLEGAL HIT WHERE A PLAYER FORCEFULLY CHECKS AN OPPONENT FROM THE REAR
Amy placing a physical distance between us clarifies real quick this moment between us isn’t going to end in reconciliation.
In the kitchen, I’d pull up my jeans up, unable to stop the surge of hope that maybe she’ll forgive me. But, by the time I return to face her, whatever heat existed between us has already turned to ash. I watch the slow rise and fall of her chest, the wayher fingers toy with the edge of her shirt like she’s grounding herself. I want to reach out.
I don’t.
Every instinct I have says there’s more upheaval coming.
Her eyes finally meet mine. They’re clear. Steady. The same eyes that were my high when they looked at me like I was the sun she orbited around.
“I’m listening.” I’m bracing for impact.
She studies me for a beat, like she’s deciding how much more I can handle. Then she says something I never would have expected, “I knew who set me up a few days after it happened.”
The words don’t register at first. “What?” I ask, stupidly.
Her mouth tightens—not in anger. In resolve. “I knew who targeted me. Back then. With the photo. I knew it was Brielle.”
The room feels smaller. “You—” I straighten slightly. “You’ve always known?”
“Yes.”
My heart turns over. “Then why—” I stop myself from asking why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you fight harder? Why didn’t you explain?
Easy, dick. Because you chose hockey over her.
She must recognize my realization, because she keeps going. “My friends—you may remember Maya, Christin, and Emery? My roommate Aio?”
I drag in a breath. “I do.” They were all close back then.
