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Sidelined 5
Addison
I barely have time to suck in a breath before Eric’s lips touch mine, less urgent than before but somehow just as intense.
Large hands cup my face, stroking my cheeks reverently as he tilts my head to the angle he wants. It feels divine, but it also leaves me confused. Where is this coming from?
A few minutes ago, I would’ve said lust got the better of both of us, though the way he’s touching me now isn’t driven by lust. It’s more intimate. Savoring instead of seducing.
I want to give in to it, but my heart is already fragile where Eric is concerned, and while I can tolerate fragile, I’m not sure I can manage broken. I’m softer than I look beneath the outer shell, honed by years of training, and if anyone can break that shell wide open, it’s him.
He must sense the shift in me, pulling back slightly so his gaze can bore into mine.
“What’s wrong?” He holds my face between his hands.
“This. All of it.”
“You don’t want this?”
“It’s not that.” I try to shake my head, but strong hands stifle the movement. “Just…why?”
Eric searches my eyes, like he’s trying to find some deeper meaning behind my question. The silence is unnerving, so I break it.
“Why here? Why now? Why me?”
He brushes a thumb over my lip. “Do you really not know?”
“Know what?”
“It’s always been you, Addison.”
“I thought you had a bum knee, not a concussion.”
A sad smile crosses his face. “You think I’m not in my right mind.” It’s more of a statement than a question.
“You’re not exactly acting like yourself.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m acting like myself for the first time in years.”
“Now you’ve really got me worried.” I blink. “The real you likes toy-sized blondes and takes pleasure in annoying me.”
“The real me likes tall brunettes and takes pleasure in seeing you smile and laugh.” He places a soft, swift kiss on my lips. “But if your brother knew that, he wouldn’t let me anywhere near you. I played the role that he was comfortable with.”
“What changed?”
Eric leans his forehead against mine. “I’m tired of fighting it. So fucking tired. I didn’t realize how much it was wearing on me until tonight. I can’t do it anymore.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend I’m not interested, that I don’t want you more than anything.”
I pull back, eyes darting nervously around the room. “Where’s everyone else?”
“What?” Eric’s brows draw together.
“You know. The people who jump out and yell, ‘Gotcha.’ That’s the only explanation for this.” I draw an imaginary line between us. “Where are they?”
“You think I’d still be breathing if anyone could see us right now?”
