When she talked to other people and let them in . . . would she still choose to be with me?
I had Maggie’s hand tucked inside mine as we walked toward the guys at the party. Brady was parking his truck up here again now that he didn’t have Maggie hiding out in the dark by herself. Nash was the first one to notice us, and he gave me a tight smile. He still hadn’t warmed up to the idea of me and Maggie. But it wasn’t because he didn’t like her. . . . It was the opposite.
Knowing he’d seen her wearing my jersey all day made the jealous monster inside me stay down. As soon as Nash had met Maggie, he’d recognized something special in her. Same as I had. He’d just not been dealing with shit that made him an idiot. . . .
Lucky for me, she recognized something inside me, too, and overlooked that I was an idiot.
“You ready for this?” I asked her as we got close to the guys.
She tilted her head back to look up at me, and smiled.
That was all I needed.
“Welcome to the family, Maggie,” Ryker said, holding up his beer, a big grin on his face. “’Bout time you joined us.”
I glanced at Brady. It was his fault she’d not been with us from the beginning. He should feel like shit that he’d left her out there alone. But the look on his face eased my anger some. He wasn’t proud of himself, I could see that much.
Ivy was curled up at his side again tonight. I never knew when they were on again or off again. Brady just seemed so detached from her. Like he was letting her stay here because she wanted to. Not because he wanted her here.
“Three games. Three wins. I can taste State already,” Asa said as he walked up to the group and took a seat beside Ivy and Brady on the tailgate.
I didn’t want to share a seat with anyone. Just Maggie. I led her over to the hay bale that was unoccupied, and sat on it before tugging her down to sit on my lap.
I pressed a kiss to her ear then whispered. “You thirsty? I forgot to get you something.”
She shook her head and leaned into me. I held her close, not paying any attention to the others, until I heard Nash say my name. It was hard snapping out of my thoughts about Maggie to respond.
She was just more interesting than he was.
“What?” I asked, turning my attention to Nash.
“You had Tennessee recruiting you. That still a go, or are you holding out for Bama?”
Football. Next year. Something I hadn’t thought about. Didn’t want to think about. Not with Dad gone. Not with Maggie here.
I shrugged because I didn’t know the answer. Yes, Tennessee was watching me. I just didn’t care.
“We all got decisions to make. Let’s wait until football season is over before we make them. Tonight we need to be talking about Gunner’s lightning feet,” Brady said, changing the subject and shutting that down.
Gunner held up his beer. “To me. Because I kick ass!” he yelled, and everyone laughed and held up their cups.
Maggie’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, and she laid her head on my shoulder as she watched them.
And I watched her.
You’re Gonna Own Me
CHAPTER 39
MAGGIE
Listening to West laugh and talk with his friends while he held me in his arms was perfect. It was exactly how I wanted my first real field party experience to be. I couldn’t imagine it any other way now.
We didn’t stay as long as the others. After an hour or so West was ready to leave. I knew we weren’t going home yet, and I was happy to go with him wherever. I argued with him over what was considered good music as we drove up to the bluff. He liked country music of all kinds, but I preferred classic rock.
When he finally parked in our spot, he reached over and turned off the radio before cupping my face in his hands and kissing me like I was something precious. This was my favorite kind of kiss. I loved them all, but when he did this, it made me feel like nothing could touch me. Like nothing could ever hurt me again.
I lost myself in his touch, and it wasn’t until he broke our kiss that I opened my eyes and remembered I wasn’t floating on a cloud.
“Do you want me with you when you tell your aunt and uncle you’re going to talk again?” It was a question, but I heard the hope in his voice. He wanted to be there with me. This was important to him. And that made me love him even more.
“Yes,” I replied.
He let out a breath he’d been holding. “Good. I’d be worried about you if I weren’t there. I want to be there for you, Maggie. I don’t . . .” He stopped and glanced off toward the town’s lights below us. “I don’t want you to feel like you always have to be my strength. I want to be that for you, too.” He shifted his gaze back to me. “I want to mean to you what you mean to me.”
That wasn’t an “I love you,” but it was close enough. That last sentence said more than he knew. I could tell he was worried that he wouldn’t be as important to me once I started talking to other people. He didn’t want to lose the connection we had.
I reached up and cupped his face this time. “Before you, I never smiled. I never laughed. I’d forgotten how. I was alone, and I didn’t know any other way. But you saved me. You make me feel appreciated, needed, wanted. You brought me out, and you gave me reasons to laugh again. Just seeing you makes me smile. No one could ever mean to me what you mean to me.”
West grinned like a little boy who had been given his ultimate wish, and then he held me against him so tightly, I could hardly breathe. I didn’t complain, but when he eased up, I took a deep breath.
He stared down at me for a few moments before his hand slid between my thighs. “How are you . . . there?” he asked, holding his hand close enough to make tingles start between my legs but not so close as to actually brush against me.
“Not sore anymore,” I replied, feeling my face get hot. He inhaled sharply, and his nostrils flared. The heat in his eyes was enough to turn on all my switches. “I don’t want you to think that this . . . that this is . . . what we are about. I’ve had that kind of relationship, and it’s empty. And it’s not us. What we have is more. I want you to always know you’re more. So, if you want to stop and not do that again . . . I’ll understand. I’m okay even if I just get to hold you.”
He was worried I’d think he just wanted sex. He was wrapping himself so tightly around my heart, I feared it was too much. Too fast. But I wouldn’t stop it.
“I want us to be more,” I replied. “But I like that, too.”
West let out a soft chuckle. “You’re gonna own me.”
I reached down and took his hand and slid it up to where I wanted it to be. “I want more of this with you.”
West’s strong fingers moved my shorts out of the way and were inside without any more argument. I arched my back and cried out from the sudden pleasure. He held on to me as he kissed down my neck, telling me how perfect, beautiful, and special I was. He never said I love you, but neither did I.
Hours later I was tucked into bed, when West climbed in through my window. I opened my eyes and watched as he slipped off his boots and jeans then climbed in with me. Once he had me curled up on his chest, he kissed the top of my head. “One day I’m going to make love to you on a bed,” he whispered.
I drifted off to sleep, thinking about West and I doing something much more interesting than just sleeping in my bed.
When I woke the next morning, West was gone, and the sun was pouring in through my windows. I buried my head in the pillow he’d been sleeping on and inhaled deeply. I loved smelling him.
I got up and went to get dressed so I could go down and eat breakfast. Also, I wanted to let Aunt Corlaee know that I’d like to talk to her, Uncle Boone, and Brady sometime today. Whenever she said was a good time, I’d let West know.
Today was a big day for me. Today I would stop hiding. I’d make real relationships with my family. I was excited about that. But I was also scared. Afraid of what they’d ask me. Terrified they’d want me to speak of that day. I didn’t want to describe that day again. Ever.
Having West beside me while I told them would help, and it would explain a lot about my relationship with him that I knew they didn’t understand. But I needed them to be clear that I wouldn’t talk about that day to them or anyone else. I never wanted to mention my father again. If they wanted to talk about my mother and fond memories of her, I could do that. I wanted that now.
I was ready for that now.
Brady was sitting at the table, his hair sticking up in random places, wearing only a pair of plaid pajama pants while he ate a bowl of cereal and drank a cup of coffee. The newspaper was open to the sports section, and he was reading it intently.
Aunt Coralee was standing at the bar in the kitchen, writing down a list. It was for groceries. I knew that list. She did it every Saturday. She looked up at me when I entered, and beamed a bright, cheery smile.
“Good morning. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t cook any breakfast. We’re out of most everything. I’m going to run to the store this afternoon and get what we need. But for now you’ll have to make due with cereal or toast. I think we have some fresh fruit, too.”
I was good with a bowl of cereal. It was what I’d lived off of during my two years with Jorie. She hadn’t cooked at all. But she’d also rarely been home. I’d lived alone for the most part.