Home > Rixon Raiders : The Collection(88)

Rixon Raiders : The Collection(88)
Author: L. A. Cotton

“Are you okay?” Her voice was so small, so fucking quiet. I hated it, but I didn’t know why.

“Okay, this has been... weird, but I’m going.” She began peeling my fingers off her neck. I hadn’t even realized I was still holding her like that because I couldn’t think straight.

Felicity had almost made it to the door when I finally found my voice again. “Stop.” I said, spinning around to meet her confused gaze.

“Jason, I—”

I was on her in a second, pressing her against the door, fixing my mouth over hers. Felicity slammed her hands against my jersey, pushing me away, but I was too strong and eventually she gave up, twisting her hand into the material and yanking me closer.

Demanding more.

Flattening my body against hers, I punched my hips forward. “Oh God,” she moaned, her fingers scraping the back of my neck as we devoured each other. Tongues tangling and teeth clashing.

“Whoa.” I jerked back, blinking rapidly, trying to clear my mind.

What the fuck was I doing?

“That was—”

“A mistake,” Felicity said with a tinge of sadness.

“Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t...” I backed up, putting some much-needed space between us.

“I get it.” She closed down, wrapping her arms around her waist, barely meeting my eye.

“Felicity, I—”

“Let’s not do this. I had zero expectations when we...” Her expression cooled like the air around us. “You don’t owe me anything and I sure as hell don’t owe you anything, so let’s just pretend it never happened, okay? I’ll go back to being your step-sister’s best friend, the person you didn’t realize existed.”

Pretend it never happened.

“Fine. Sounds good to me,” I said with an easy shrug.

“Great.”

“Fine.” The word echoed in my head. I was fine with that. I’d only come to talk to her to clear the air and avoid any more drama with the guys. Pretending it never happened was the perfect fucking solution.

After all she was right, she’d never been on my radar until recently; no one to me.

Better that’s what she went back to. Wasn’t it?

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

Felicity

 

 

“Happy game day.” I flashed Hailee a wide smile, but she frowned.

“You’re... happy.”

“Is that a crime?”

“No, of course not, I just thought...”

“That I’d spend the week moping after Jason?” Laughter spilled out of me, but it was strained. “Like I already told you yesterday and the day before that, it was a mistake. A blip. Jason, who?”

Hailee’s eyes scrutinized me. Sharp and assessing and filled with doubt.

“If it makes you feel better,” I went on, filling the awkward silence, “I added another item to my list.”

“You did?” Her brows went up as the school came into view.

“I did. Number eleven: Do not, under any circumstances, fraternize with the football team.”

“Asher’s on the football team.” I felt her heavy gaze on me.

“Asher is a friend.”

“Is that what we’re calling it. He likes you, you know?”

“He doesn’t like me. He likes the idea of me.”

“We could double date.” She sounded happy at the prospect; too happy.

“Hails,” I glanced at her, “Don’t get any ideas about me and Asher, okay?”

“Who, me?” She smiled deviously. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hails, I mean it, Asher is...”

“Cute. Athletic. And totally into you.”

“He isn’t...” The protest died on my tongue. There were times when I did notice Asher looking at me with lust in his baby blues. But he was a guy and I was a girl. It was simple biology. Asher Bennet was a player through and through. The rumors I’d heard about his sexcapades were impressive to say the least. And he very much had a type. Much like the entire team.

And I was not it.

“I need to stop by the studio first thing. Coach Hasson and Mr. Jalin want to see how things are ‘progressing’.” She air quoted the words.

“Ah, yes, the Seniors Night portraits. And how are those coming along?” Hailee was secretive about her art, so the fact Coach Hasson had asked her to paint the annual senior football players commemorative portraits was no small thing.

In fact, it was pretty epic.

“Can I come with?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, Flick. It’s supposed to be a big surprise at the Seniors Night dinner.”

“Please.” I flashed her my best puppy-dog eyes. “The dinner is still three weeks away and I really want to see them.”

“They still need a lot of work.”

“Hails, they’re going to be great. Mr. Jalin and Coach Hasson wouldn’t have asked you if they didn’t believe you could do it.”

She gave me a weak smile, one that told me she wasn’t as convinced as I was. “Fine. But you have to forget I ever showed you. Because Cameron has been hounding me to see his portrait and I told him no.”

“Ahh, you love me more than you love him.”

“Flick, come on. I love you both. Equally.” Her lip quirked up.

Pulling into an empty parking spot, I cut the engine and twisted around to look at my best friend. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice nothing but genuine. “I’m sorry I almost screwed things up with you because of Jason. And I’m really sorry you had to see... well, that.”

A violent shudder ripped through me at the memory of Hailee walking in on me and Jason. The confusion and hurt in her eyes.

The disappointment.

Her expression softened as she reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry I freaked out. It’s just we’ve hated him for so long and you’re my best friend and I don’t ever want to see you get hurt.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Hails.” My chest tightened. “I’m a big girl. Not even the likes of Jason can hurt me.” But the second I said the words I knew it was a lie.

Because Jason had already hurt me. And I knew, given half the chance, he would completely destroy me.

But that wasn’t going to happen, because whatever was between us, the weird hate-lust attraction we had going, was over.

So over.

Jason, who?

 

 

“Holy shit, Hails. That is...” I had no words to describe the work of art my eyes were currently soaking in. It was Cameron; a painting of him poised and ready to catch the ball. Even through his helmet you could see his fierce determination, the way his eyes were homed in on their target. Nothing but him and the ball, off-page, hurtling toward him.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” I reached out to touch it, but she swatted my hand away. “Crap, sorry,” I said, leaning closer to get a better look. “It’s so realistic. Like I’m watching him move for the ball. Even his shirt seems to be moving.”

“That’s what I wanted to capture; the urgency of the game, the adrenaline and power.”

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