“Do they really?” Indie asks, shocked.

  Chuckling, I shake my head. “Nah, but pretty close to it.”

  “Are you trying to tell me you’re slumming it while I’m in athletic glory?”

  “Yup.” I blow on my pasta. “It was a quick fall from stardom.”

  “A peon once again,” she jokes. “Hopefully it’s a quick rise.”

  “Hopefully.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  LINCOLN

  AUGUST

  “I should have known you were going to call today,” Indie says, answering the phone.

  “Mayhem!” I yell. “Let’s go, babe! Kill it today.”

  She laughs. “I think you just broke my eardrum.”

  “Wait until you see the video I recorded for you last night. Maddox was less than pleased to help me.”

  “Aw, he wouldn’t join you?”

  “I think it was a hell no from him.” She chuckles and I say, “Last first game at Brentwood. How do you feel?”

  “Excited. Ready. Worked my ass off all summer, as I didn’t have the distraction of my mom setting me up, nor did I have a Ken doll trying to distract me either.”

  “Hey, I wouldn’t have distracted you. I would have kicked balls at you. Helped.”

  “I would have loved to have seen that. You might be a powerhouse on the mound, but I don’t think you have a foot to stand on when it comes to the soccer field.”

  “You could not be more right about that.”

  “How’s Kansas?”

  “Pretty good. The accommodations are better, that’s for damn sure. I’m not sharing a tiny couch with Maddox, but have a three-seater and it’s leather. Old leather, but leather.”

  “Look at you moving up in the world. And you graduated from soup cans?”

  “Barely.”

  “At least that’s something. Making it to Triple-A in the same year you were drafted is pretty awesome, Lincoln.”

  “Yeah, glad Maddox came along with me. He’s been working really hard, keeps up with my workouts, says I’m pushing him. When I first met him, he seemed like he was in a funk, but now we’re hitting the gym together every day and sharing spin techniques. He feels like a brother more than a teammate.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad.”

  We’re silent for a second, and it feels awkward. I hate that. We’ve both been so busy that I think the last time we talked on the phone was two weeks ago. It pains me to think that maybe she’s pulling away. I hope that’s not the case. We’ve still been texting, and that’s been the usual crazy sparring. But I need to hear her voice.

  “Well, I just wanted to wish you good luck today. Tear them apart, Mayhem.”

  “Planned on it. And hey, thanks for calling, Castle. It means a lot to me.”

  “Anything for you, babe. Text me after. I want to know how it goes.”

  “I will. Bye, Lincoln.”

  “Bye, Indie.”

  * * *

  OCTOBER

  “I leave for a few months and you guys all turn flabby on me?” I say, walking up to my football boys.

  They spin around and yell, picking me up and practically tossing me around.

  “Dude, you made it,” Rusty shouts. “Hell, I might cry. Does Indie know?”

  I shake my head. “Didn’t tell her.”

  “Oh fuck, this is going to be the best surprise ever.” Rusty gives me another hug, and I push him away.

  “You’re going to ruin our body paint.”

  “Shit, sorry. I’m just so excited.”

  Deacon and Hutton both give me a hug too while Hartley pats me on the back. He’s the only one who knew I was coming, and the one who helped paint me up for Indie’s last game of the season. Unfortunately, they haven’t had the best season. The team has been riddled with injuries, so they weren’t able to pull it together in time to make it to the playoffs, so this is Indie’s last game in green and black.

  Hopefully not her last game ever. Still waiting to hear about that.

  Together, we walk into the stands, our bodies painted, Indie and Scarlett’s numbers written on our faces. We don’t bother taking a seat, but instead, hold up signs, declaring our undying love for the women’s soccer team, chanting as the girls come out of the tunnel.

  I spot her immediately.

  Her long brown ponytail swaying back and forth, the snug fit of her jersey around her top half, her sexy-as-hell legs. Fuck, I’ve missed her so damn much.

  “Let’s go, Mayhem,” I shout, cupping my hands around my mouth. Her head snaps up to the crowd. She stops, and her hand lifts to her chest while we stare at one another. “Tear them apart, babe,” I yell. Her chest rises and falls faster, and the look of shock and joy on her face will last me a long time. This is a moment I’ve been thinking about for a while, but nothing prepared me for seeing her again. God. So gorgeous.

  * * *

  We crash through her door, lips desperate, hands clawing at our clothes. While Indie was taking a shower, the boys got me into the locker room, and I took the quickest shower of my life, and then met Indie by her car. She ran up to me, leapt into my arms, and it’s been pretty hard to take our lips off each other since.

  “I can’t get close enough to you,” she says, lifting my shirt up and over my head. I do the same to hers and remove her bra as well. I lift her up to my waist where she clings to me, as I use the door to help keep her in place. “You’re stronger,” she says as I move my mouth down her neck. “Bigger.” She gasps when I take her breast into my mouth. “Broader.”

  I grind my cock against her, and she digs her fingers into my back as she moans against me.

  “I want to see you, all of you,” she says. I pull away and look her in the eyes, pressing a desperate kiss against her lips as I move her back to the bed and lay her down. I grab the waist of her leggings and peel them off her body followed by her thong, leaving her in nothing. I’ve been starved of this sexy sight for nearly five months. I won’t last long.

  “Touch yourself,” I command. “Touch yourself, and I’ll take the rest of my clothes off.”

  Her hand falls between her legs, which she props up on the mattress. Her mouth parts as her fingers play with her clit.

  I stiffen to full mast in my jeans as I watch her work herself expertly.

  “How often do you do that?” I ask, reaching to my jeans and unbuckling them.

  “Enough,” she says on a gasp.

  “Do you think of me?”

  She bites her bottom lip and nods. “I do.”

  Damn.

  I push my pants and briefs down and step out of them, and her eyes fall to my cock. Her fingers speed up and I take my cock in hand, pumping up and down, feeling my arousal already start to spike. The last time I had sex was with her, the night before I left, and seeing her here, right now, beautiful and naked for me, has my dick growing exponentially.

  “You’re so fucking hot, Indie.”

  “You’re massive,” she says. Her eyes seem unable to fall from my torso and cock. “God, Linc, I need you.”

  Still gripping my cock, I grab condoms out of my jeans pocket, ripping one open and toss the others on the nightstand while I sheath myself. Ready, I climb on top of the bed, where I position myself at her entrance.

  Her eyes well with tears and her hands loop around my neck. “I missed you so much.”

  “I missed you too, babe,” I say, pushing inside her. “I missed this. Us.”

  “God, you feel amazing, don’t stop,” she says, gasping when I push in harder. “Please tell me you’re here for a while. Please tell me I don’t have to say goodbye right away.”

  “Here until spring training, babe.”

  “Really?” she asks on a moan, her head falling back.

  My jaw clenches as I feel the early signs of her orgasm closing around my cock. “Yes. Working with the guys during the off-season. I’m all yours, babe.”

  “Oh God, Lincoln,” she cries out, her grip tightening. “I’m going to come.”

  “Me . . . too.” Everything around me turns to black, and all I do is feel.

  Feel her.

  Feel us.

  * * *

  NEW YEAR’S EVE

  “Would you like any more wieners?” Mom asks Indie, holding out a platter of pigs in a blanket to her.

  Indie holds up her hand with a smile. “Good on the wieners. Thank you though. I might have another one of these penis cookies.” Indie picks up a colorful cookie that Mom spent a lot of time decorating this morning.

  “Aren’t they delicious?”

  “Really good.” Indie takes a bite and then says, “I wish our New Year’s Eve was a celebration of penises growing up.”

  “Not everyone can be like my moms,” I say on a sigh.

  Yup, you heard that right: a celebration of penises. Growing up, every New Year’s Eve has been dedicated to the male phallus. My moms felt bad that it was a two-to-one ratio when it came to vaginas and penises in the house, so to make me feel included—I really didn’t need this—they dedicated New Year’s Eve to the penis and said even though they didn’t prefer them, they still think they’re a great addition to society that we should celebrate. Hence the ten-year-old penis garlands strung around the house and the phallic-shaped food my moms prepared for tonight.

  “So have you made a decision about what you’re doing after college?” Mama asks, sucking on a cock-pop. Truly, nothing fazes me anymore.

  Indie looks at me and smiles. I’ve spent the past few months with the boys at Brentwood. Deacon’s room has been free, since he’s been staying with his girl, so that’s worked out perfectly. I didn’t want to fall into a deep hole with Indie, knowing I was leaving again and so was she, and staying at her place would have done that. I’ve driven back and forth to my moms’ home, spending time with them as well, but at least once a week, I’ve spent a few hours between Indie’s legs, listening to the sweet sounds of her pleasure. It’s been perfect.

  Just what both of us needed. A refresher, especially after it felt like she was pulling away. But we haven’t talked about anything of substance. I haven’t mentioned her parents or what she’s doing after college, and she hasn’t asked me how I’m doing with my pursuit of the majors. It’s as if we’ve both put up an emotional wall to avoid another tearful goodbye and have just been working out and fucking.

  That’s it.

  I don’t even stay the night at her place.

  It’s too much. And we both realize that, because even though it would be easy to fall back into old habits, our situation is still the same: we’re going down different paths.

  “I actually, uh, signed with the Texas Comets the other day,” she answers.

  “What?” I ask, pulling away to look her in the eyes. “As in, you’re going pro?” She nods. “Indie . . . why the fuck didn’t you tell me? That’s amazing.”

  She shrugs. “It’s not a big moment like you had. It’s just—”

  “Don’t ever compare your accomplishments to someone else’s. What you achieve truly matters and this is huge, Indie. Massive.”

  “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” she says, looking down at her cookie.

  “Oh, fuck that. Mom, let’s open the champagne early. We have things to celebrate.”

  “Lincoln . . .”

  I grip her chin and force her to look at me. “Indie, this is a huge accomplishment. Let’s celebrate.”

  Sighing, she leans back and then smiles at me. “Fine, you can celebrate.”

  I clap my hands and then pull her into a hug. With my lips against her ear, I say, “And tomorrow, when we’re back at Brentwood, I’m going to eat that sweet pussy of yours as a congratulations, too.”

  She pokes my side when I pull away, but I see the desire in her eyes.

  That’s a future promise.

  * * *

  FEBRUARY

  “Oh my God, oh . . . my . . . God. Lincoln!” Indie stiffens and then screams my name while her hands fall into my hair. Her hips ride against my tongue and she spasms beneath me.

  Her hand falls over her eyes, spent, and I spend the next couple seconds pressing my tongue against her clit, extracting every ounce of pleasure until she’s completely done.

  Lifting up, I smile at her, loving how flushed and exhausted her body is. I leave for spring training tomorrow, and we decided to have a fuck fest before I left. She’s on orgasm number five for the night.

  “I don’t think I can go any longer,” she breathes out. “That last one nearly killed me.”

  “You’re still breathing. Not dead yet, babe.” I move up her body and press a kiss to her jaw and then lie next to her, naked, my dick half hard, still recuperating from taking her about five minutes ago from behind.

  “This was a great idea,” she says, looking over at me. She rolls to her side and places her hand on my chest. “We should have done this the last time you had to leave. Just kept fucking.”

  “We fucked last time,” I say.

  “Not like this. Last time felt sad. This feels more like a celebration,” she says, sounding completely normal.

  Even though I feel sick to my stomach, knowing I have to say goodbye again.

  Yeah, I wish she’d have opened up more with me, but I also get it. I’ve only seen Indie truly cry twice: when she told me about her parents’ divorce and when she said goodbye to me. She’s not one to be emotional and she keeps her feelings at bay, so knowing I was in and out of Brentwood, she kept me at a distance. I wasn’t super happy about it, but I can’t be mad because she’s simply making sure she doesn’t get too attached.

  Hell, I should have done the same thing. But here I am, the night before I leave again, and I’m trying to soak up as much of her as I can. I don’t feel unaffected by this time together. The connection we had before is even stronger, as if the time apart made it clearer that we’re a good fit. Not that Indie seems to think so.

  “So, your first spring training. Are you nervous?”

  “Nah, I’m cool. It’ll be pretty fucking awesome to play with the big-league guys. I don’t think I have a shot at being called up yet, but the experience will be great. Maddox though, hell. He might be ready.”

  “He fits the description of a Rebel, that’s for sure.”

  “Are you crushing on him, Indie?”

  “And if I was?” she says with a sly smile.

  “Uh, we’d have a big issue,” I say, climbing on top of her and moving my lips over hers. She sighs into my kiss and strokes my hair.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “I don’t know. Is it going to piss me off?”

  “Maybe,” she says. “But I really want to know.”

  “Okay. Hit me.”

  Her fingers play with the back of my neck when she asks, “Did you have sex with anyone while we were apart?”

  “No,” I answer quickly. “Didn’t even think about it honestly. Why . . . did you?”

  She shakes her head. “No, didn’t think about it either.” Fuck, that’s a relief.

  I go to kiss her but she stops me. “But I don’t want that to be the expectation moving forward, Lincoln.”

  “Uh . . . what?” I ask as my dick presses against the warmth between her legs.

  “I mean, if you want to have sex with someone, feel free. I’m not going to be mad about it. We’re going in different directions, and I don’t want you to think you need to be loyal to me.”

  I chew on the inside of my cheek, trying not to get pissed because honestly, there’s no reason to be pissed. We never made a promise to each other after we said goodbye. We never said we’d be exclusive after we parted. But still, as she says that, after everything we did tonight, it rubs me the wrong away.

  I push off the bed and sit up, feeling anger boiling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Lincoln, don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not. I mean, Jesus, Indie, you surprised me.”

  “I know, I’m sorry, but I didn’t want you holding out. These last few months have been amazing, but we’re not going to have the same access during the coming year. We’re going to be in different states, starting new lives. Who knows when we’ll see each other again? I don’t want you thinking you owe me anything, because you don’t.”

  “We’re going to see each other, Indie.”

  She looks away and then says, “I mean, don’t you think maybe we should just . . . cut things off?”

  “What?” I push my hand through my hair, trying to comprehend this conversation. “We talked about this, Indie. You’re my best friend. I still need you to talk to me.”

  “I know. But I don’t want there to be expectations. You know? You don’t owe it to me to be celibate. Have fun, Lincoln.”

  “I’m not celibate on purpose,” I say. “I just didn’t want to fuck anyone just to fuck.”

  “Okay,” she says, looking down.

  “Christ, Indie, you’re making this too complicated.”

  “No, I’m not,” she shoots back. “I’m trying to uncomplicate things. I’m trying to make sure you know that if you fuck someone else, that’s cool.”

  “Great. Thanks for letting me know, Indie.” I push off the bed and grab my pants from the floor.

  “Lincoln, don’t be mad.”

  “How can I not be mad? You’re ruining our last fucking night together.”

  “I’m not trying to, Lincoln. I’m trying to be honest here. I really don’t know when we’ll see each other again. We said from the beginning, this was friends with benefits because we’re going opposite directions. I don’t see how you can be mad about me saying you can fuck whoever you want.” Clearly, she’s not invested in us like I am. Clearly, she wants other guys. Fuck.

  “Timing, Indie. Maybe wait until my dick is dry from your pussy before you start talking about fucking other guys.”