Page 152 of The Pact
I force her to meet my eyes, her expression raw and stripped bare as she loses control. My movements become short, finding that perfect friction that makes her back arch and her voice break.
“Come for me,” I demand. “Let me feel it.”
She shatters around me, her body shaking with each contraction, triggering my own release. I thrust into her one last time, pinning her against the wall as I fill her, leaving me empty and practically gasping for air.
I don’t want to put her down yet. I can feel our hearts hammering against one another as I hold her. So, we stay molded together for what feels like a long time, the water continuing to run over us, until our breathing returns to normal. Until we’re completely still.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I love her, but I’m not sure she’s there, or if she will ever love me in the same way I love her. So I swallow it down, again, and keep her in my arms until the water runs cold.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Saint
The energy in the stadium doesn’t just vibrate. That’s the thing people don’t understand about being in the trenches. Eighty thousand people screaming … yeah, I can feel it in my teeth. I can feel the bass of the hum through the ground, and it feels like it moves through my body, settling in my bones. It’s intense, but it also amps me up.
It’s our first regular season game, and my lungs feel like they’re lined with glass. No matter how many miles I run during the offseason or how many sprints I do when I’m training … nothing prepares me for the sheer, violent exhaustion of a regular season game.
We’re in the fourth quarter with two minutes on the clock. I line up, my cleats digging into the grass.
I can smell the copper of blood, mine or someone else’s, and I can see the fatigue in the eyes of the offensive lineman that I’m about to bury.
The quarterback is barking signals, his voice raspy from yelling the whole game, and he’s definitely feeling the pressure of a three-point deficit.
Down. Set.
I don’t wait for the ball to move. I push off at the snap, staying low, my shoulder pads explode into the lineman’s chest with a crack. I feel him buckle, and sweep my arm over his shoulder, shedding the block when he tries to take me down with him.
Then I see the quarterback step into the pocket. I don’t think, I just launch. Two hundred and thirty pounds of momentum colliding with him just as he releases the ball. We hit the ground hard, the air leaving him in a whoosh. I stay on top of him for a second longer than necessary, letting him feel the weight of the loss.
I look toward the ball and see it flutter, then fall to the ground just out of reach of the receiver, trying to keep the play alive. The crowd roars from a hum to an explosion.
Game over. Titans win.
By the time I make it through the tunnel, shower, and dress, my body feels like one big giant bruise. But the second I step into the family waiting area, the pain recedes.
“Uncle Saint!”
I don’t have a chance to brace myself before Remy and Rhyan hit me like missiles. I catch them, one in each arm. They smell like popcorn and cotton candy.
I put them both down because Remy is bouncing in my hold, like he might just bounce right out of my grip. “You hit that quarterback so hard! He fell like a tree!”
“I know,” I laugh, my voice a little rough from shouting on the field and sideline.
I look up when Presley enters the room. When I walked out of the locker room, she was still working with one of the players who got injured during the game.
She nods her chin when she sees me, but beelines to her sister. Alie has a hand on her stomach. Sera is going to be a bigsister soon, and the glow on Alie’s face reminds me of my sister’s each time she told me she was pregnant.
I watch Presley as she hugs her sister. She’s so beautiful. She’s wearing her Titans work uniform, her hair is pulled back, and I can see on her face how tired she is. But still…she has a soft smile for Alie.
Rhyan tugs on my arm. “The room we were in was the best, Uncle Saint! Mimi and Poppy have the bestest room here. There was a whole table of food—sliders, chicken fingers, and cookies with M&M’s!”
“Mimi and Poppy, huh?” I look over at Presley, who’s watching us with a grin.
“Oh! And we met Aiden!” Remy shouts. “Aiden Griffith! He’s so cool.”
“Aiden was here?” I ask, surprised. Sure, he comes to Aston’s games when he can, and I guess he’s not in season for another few weeks, but he missed Liam and Alie’s wedding.
Alie, Presley and Sera walk over to us.
