Player (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)(292)

“Well, make sure she does, or she’s going to get hurt.”





15





Peyton




I’m out on the rooftop terrace of the hotel later, wrapped in a blanket and drinking tea as I stare out at the skyline. All cities are lit up at night, but there’s something extra magical about this place; this place between east and west and bridging old and new. Istanbul glows at night, as if lit by millions of candles and lanterns hung from ancient walls and flickering off of history.

There’s the smell of chai and other eastern spices on the wind, and the broken, mournful wail of the criers singing prayers from the minarets of mosques drifting across the evening sky. All of it combined brings the whole scene firmly into the past as the moon glows bright across the dome of the Hagia Sophia up on the hill. Basilica, Mosque, and now museum; the building has gone through so many phases, and changed in so many different ways as it’s made it’s way through the ages.

Not totally unlike Bryce and I, I guess. What was once cold and broken became whole, and loved; at least for a time.

And now? I frown and sip the tea in my hands, knowing that we’re both still figuring that out.

I want to say it’s nothing, that what was is in the past, and whatever happened tonight is just a lingering aftershock of that. I want to push the events of earlier from my lingering thoughts and just move forward.

Except I know that’s impossible. I suppose it’s not just Bryce that has addictions, because for better or worse, he’s apparently mine.

And frankly it terrifies me.

Because I know that it’s fear that keeps me from seeing where this may go. It’s fear that kept me from facing it all a year ego when everything shattered like it did. Fear of the things unknown, or maybe more-so the fear of what was. Fear of knowing deep down in my heart what my head kept me from saying. The world is a broken place, and love is a myth, and those two truths have kept me alive and kept me going through all the shit in my life.

So why is it that it’s starting to sound like a tired, broken record in my head the more I say it? Why am I so afraid of it all?

The door to the roof deck opens behind me, and I turn as he steps out of my thoughts right in front of me. And right then, I know I’m done.

I’m done being scared.

“Sorry that took so long, we just had to-”

I silence him with my kiss, my arm wrapping around his neck, my body melting against his, and my lips searing themselves against his with everything that I have. This is me letting go of it all; letting go of my baggage, and my fears, and my regrets, and letting my heart make the choice it needs to make.

He kisses me back, fiercely and forcefully, his hands running up my back and hugging me tightly to him as he opens his mouth to mine. I’m falling into him, feeling the heat and safety that his arms bring me, the magnetic spark and draw of him pulling me closer, like he’ll never let me go.

But he does, suddenly, taking a breath as his eyes search mine; “Hang on, hang on.”

“No,” I whisper, leaning back into him, but he pulls back again.

“Peyton, you can’t just-” His jaw tightens; “We can’t just go back to this, not after-” He looks away; “Before, I was a mess; I was broken.”

“I was lost.”

He turns to me, his eyes boring into mine; “You fixed me, and-”

“And you found me,” I whisper.

“I can’t let you do this,” He growls, his eyes wild as they bore right into mine; “I can’t let you make this mistake again.”

“You’re not the boss of me.” I say quietly, leaning closer. I can feel the heat, and the animal in us both that comes roaring out like this at the touch of the other. I can see the fire in his eyes, and feel the burn within my body.

And in that moment, I don’t care that I can’t forget him.

I don’t care that I can’t resist him

I don’t care that I can’t let him go, because right there, I know; I don’t want to.

We crash together as one again, our mouths hungry, our tongues fighting as we moan into each other. Hands slide over skin, memorizing and relearning curves and muscles and limbs.

Bryce groans and pulls back for a second, nipping at my lip, his hardness throbbing against my leg; “Goddamnit, what about Hugh?” There’s something teasing in his voice, something challenging; “What about you ‘being his’?”

I blush and look down, biting my lip; “We-” I look up into those eyes, and I’m lost; “We broke up three months ago.”

He growls, and I feel a shudder run through me at the blazing fire in his eyes. His hand runs up my neck into my hair, and he gently pulls on it. I moan as he leans into my exposed neck, his lips against my ear sending shockwaves right through to my pussy. I’m panting, whimpering for him as his lips just brush against my earlobe; “In that case,” He growls lowly; “Tonight I’m going to make you mine”