Page 66 of Studs Up
Nolan got to his knees and sucked me dry before I returned the favor, and then, like a cut in a movie, we were suddenly dressed, packed, and standing at the door.
Now was the time to tell him. I had practiced in my head while he brushed his teeth and got ready.
‘Nolan, this has been great, and the sex was amazing, but this can’t continue. Thanks for the ride, but we have to room with other people next time.’
Simple. Easy. All I had to do was say it.
I took a deep breath. Now was the time. I opened my mouth but no words came out. I couldn’t make myself say them. I didn’t want this to end. But it had to. I had seriously fucking good reasons to end it.
His eyes fixed on mine. My resolve was stretching too thin. He stepped closer and rested his hand on the curve of my neck; his thumb stroked my throat, and I swallowed.
His other hand pressed the small of my back until my body was against his. And then he kissed me in a way that made me forget everything.
I was a weak hypocrite, and I slid my arm around his neck and kissed him back.
Nolan stepped away and I let my arms fall.
Okay, now would be a good time to tell him. Do it now. Say it.
But I didn’t. He grabbed the handle of his suitcase and walked out the door.
I dropped down on the bed and tried to reconcile my searing desire with the truth. The truth was, I was a coward.
…
He lingered with me for days after. Every time I moved, I felt his hands and kisses on my skin. It was like he was still inside me hot and throbbing. I couldn’t shake him. The worst part was it wasn’t enough to let me sleep. When I was in bed with him and he was wrapped around me, I slept. The nightmares were warded off by his hold. I couldn’t even look at my bed now without wishing he was there to help me sleep.
The first text in months came two days after I got home.
You’re playing so well. I’m so proud of you. Keep it up.
I wanted to vomit. The only thing I could do was focus on my game and play by the rules. If I did that, I’d get a shot at my trophies.
That meant staying as far away from Nolan Reed as possible. And that was harder than I thought. The more I tried not to think of him, the more memories assaulted me.
Alex and I went golfing with Charlemagne and then went to dinner with his new lady. She was funny, affectionate, and tiny. Her name was Sophie, and she was a procurement specialist, I think.
Charlemagne adored her, and that sliced right through me, watching them touch and laugh together without the fear of being judged or hearing whispers. Though anyone who passed by our little group was doing the same math Alex and I were. He was seven inches taller and had at least fifty pounds of muscle on her.
“Jesus Christ,” Alex breathed when we left the restaurant. “How do you think…”
“Do not finish that question,” I advised as we made our way to my car.
“Yeah,” he breathed but still pictured it in his head.
Alex voiced his observation when we got in, and I was backing out.
“You were pretty quiet.”
I watched the stream of cars pass before finding a gap big enough for me to pull out.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“What’s up with you?” He asked. “You’re hot and cold all the time, and you haven’t even been the cocky dick I know and love.”
I didn’t answer because the answer was complicated.
“Fuck,” he groaned when I stayed quiet. “Did Reed suck the soul out of you or something.”
