She nodded, spreading her legs a fraction wider to fit him more comfortably; she liked him staying so close. “You don’t bat an eyelid at sex toys. At sex talk. It’s always been easy for you.”
He laughed. “Yes, maybe I discovered how good it could be.” He lifted a hand and massaged her shoulder, his fingertips moving in slow, firm circles. “But it wasn’t always easy.”
Back at school Abbi had wondered about his life prior to coming to the Burns household, and she wondered about it again now. She’d never heard him discuss his past—he’d just arrived at school and gotten on with making his future. She’d never heard any stories, never heard any gossip from the girls, other than about his sexual prowess. It was like he lived only in the present. Easygoing, making the most of the moment. But now that she had the opportunity, she couldn’t resist asking.
“In what way wasn’t it easy?” she asked softly, mirroring his light massage, only she traced the indentations of his muscled chest with the tips of her fingers.
She knew he’d been one of the youngest first picks ever in the NBA draft; he hadn’t finished college because he’d gone pro. And he’d proven himself. Until that day when he’d been taken out in a foul. His freak fall on the court had snapped his right femur, bone piercing through his skin. Even now the footage was on YouTube in those “worst ever on-court injury” compilations. Abbi had watched it once and was still horrified. Some sports pundits had reckoned that he could come back from it. But Joe hadn’t. He’d gone back to college, gotten his degree, and started his business. And here he was.
…
Joe carefully lifted himself off Abbi and onto his side, facing her. He’d never been one for pillow talk—never understood the need to open up and emote. After sex he liked to sleep or maybe eat or maybe just go for round two already. But Abbi looked all pink and pleased, her big blue gaze focused on him with interest. Searching, curious, wanting to know more.
He didn’t want to give more. But a verbal shutdown would shatter her blossoming bedroom confidence. He didn’t want to snuff that glow in her eyes.
“I was doing everything I could to hold on to my new world,” he said, feeling rueful. “I was busting my butt on the basketball court, in class at school trying to catch up. Trying to be the good son and brother, to fit in with my new foster family. I was scared of losing it. I’d lost it so many times before.” He’d been angry, alone, literally lost. It was only when his talent at basketball had been recognized by his foster father that his life began to take on some kind of meaning. Only then his basketball skill caused more problems for him in that family. With his new “brother.” “I tried to do whatever it took to stay. I worked so damn hard. So when some pretty girl smiled at me and asked me to kiss her? Feel her up? Invited me inside?” He shook his head and laughed. “How was I supposed to deny myself that pleasure? It felt good. Warm.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It worked for me.”
She rolled to face him, her skin luminous. Her eyes searching, but not judging. “Did it work for your partners?”
His lips twisted. “My foster mom at the time, Brigit, took me to the side and told to me be careful—not just in terms of safe sex, but emotionally. For my partners. I learned to keep it light.”
“Why not get heavy?”
“Because there was too much else I had to work for.” He shrugged. He didn’t have enough to give. He never would. There was just that bit of him missing. From birth.
“You worked hard.”
“You’ve no idea.” Inside he’d been terrified of stepping with the wrong foot. It had taken him a long time to believe that the Burnses’ was his home. And in the end, of course, it wasn’t. The resentment of his foster brother, Zach, who’d been the best basketball player at school until Joe turned up? That had turned the situation septic.
Wasn’t it just ironic that the thing he was best at had ruined his one chance of winning a happy family.
They were better off without him. Like always.
So yeah, when some girl had gotten on her knees and given him his first-ever blow job, he’d found an outlet. He’d gotten good at that too.
But all it had ever been was a temporary escape. A way of relaxing from the pressure. He wanted to escape this intimacy now—via sex. “I never meant to hurt anyone. I like to think I didn’t.” He tried to close the convo.
But Abbi’s smile turned cheeky. “They all loved you. They all wanted to keep you. But they didn’t seem to be desperate when they couldn’t. You stayed friends with them. Which was pretty rare for most guys back then.”