Rally (Treasure State Wildcats Book 3)
Chapter 16

Rush’s living room smelled like popcorn and clean-linen air freshener. It was quiet but the air still felt charged with the energy from the past two hours spent taking countless trips in and out of the front door, up and down the stairs to the guest bedroom—my bedroom.

Ryan and Macy had just left for their hotel after hauling in the last load of my things. One trip. That was all it had taken to clear my belongings out of Justin’s house. Everything I owned had fit into my Explorer and Ryan’s Ford Super Duty.

My lumpy twin-sized bed and TV-tray nightstand were upstairs along with my clothes, stuffed into my only suitcase and four garbage bags. My bedding we’d piled in a laundry basket. Everything else, books and toiletries and a few framed photos, had fit into the five boxes Dusty had given us when I’d finished my shift at the diner.

One trip. And now I lived with Rush.

The house was nice, with plain tan siding and a white garage. There were a few brown shutters to give it character and tie into the wooden front door.

The open concept gave the house an airy feel. Beside the dining room was the living room with a massive, cushy beige sectional and huge TV. The kitchen was U-shaped, separated from the other spaces with a bar and three stools.

There were four bedrooms, two upstairs and two down.

Maverick had the primary suite on the first floor. Erik was on this level too. That left Rush and me upstairs, our bedrooms separated by a hallway and the bathroom we’d be sharing.

There were hardwood floors. The carpet in my bedroom was plush and soft. The bathrooms and kitchen had granite countertops.

It was one of the nicest homes I’d ever been inside.

What was I doing here? This wasn’t me. Except when Rush had insisted, I sure as hell hadn’t put up much of a fight.

I reached behind my back, feeling around to make sure my spine was still intact.

Yep, it was there. Bony and not quite as firm as I’d once believed it to be.

God, I was tired. Exhausted to my marrow. It didn’t feel right, staying here. It didn’t feel like this was the best choice for me.

But it was a choice for now. A choice for this baby. Crashing with Rush didn’t have to be permanent, and since my pride had taken about all the hits it could endure tonight, I could bend.

The thud of footsteps on the stairs made me stand a little straighter as Rush jogged down the last few steps.

The sleeves of his quarter zip were pushed up his forearms and his hat was turned backward.

My mouth went dry.

He was gorgeous. Distractingly so. Every time he came into a room, my brain scrambled. Was that why I hadn’t argued with him when he’d all but ordered me to move in here? Or was it just because I had no other option?

I loved Dusty, but sleeping on her couch was not a great option. Her house had a permanent cloud of smoke and she preferred her solitude. Would she smoke outside if I asked? Yes. Would she hide her two pet snakes? Yes, because she knew I was terrified of her boas. But that arrangement would only be temporary too.

Maybe I could have stayed with Gloria, but Chuck was on the road at the moment and that was something I’d have to run by him first.

So for now, I stood in Rush’s living room, knowing exactly where I was on this earth and feeling more lost than ever.

My throat burned with the urge to cry or scream or both.

Don’t cry. Not yet.

Fucking Justin. I hated him for this. I hated him for making me out to be the villain.

“I made space for you in the bathroom,” Rush said, crossing the room. “Entire right side of the vanity is yours.”

“Thanks,” I choked out.

“You okay?”

No. “Sure.”

“Liar.”

I lifted a shoulder. “This is fairly humiliating.”

“For Justin. Yeah. He should be humiliated. But not you. Never you.” Rush lifted a hand to my face, his knuckles dragging along the line of my cheek.

Everything in my body came alive. Tingles broke out across my skin. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. My pulse quickened.

It was like I’d been dying of thirst and that single touch was a cool glass of water.

I should tell him to stop with the easy touches. I should have backed away the night he’d kissed me on the cheek. Except I liked it too much to say no.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his body shifting closer.

“Me too.” The scent of his cologne filled my nose, and for the first time all night, I took a full breath. Masculine spice mingled with soap.

“I take it he found out about us,” he said.

“Yep. He’s the reason I went camping that weekend. Remember how I told you about his best friend? He slept with her that weekend, so I broke it off. But we were living together, and I had my own room. It was cheap and there’s not a lot open at the moment. So it’s been easier to stay while I looked for an apartment.”

“Makes sense. How’d he replace out?”

“Apparently, he heard it around school. When I got to the diner this afternoon for my shift, I put my phone away. I checked it after he left tonight and found a bunch of texts from him. He found out I was pregnant and, well . . . you know what happened next.”

Justin had heard a rumor on campus that Rush Ramsey had gotten a girl pregnant. Me. In Justin’s initial text, he’d asked if it was true. Instead of waiting for me to reply, he’d taken it upon himself to ask around. Guess one of his friends had confirmed the truth.

His texts had changed after that.

fuck you faye

so much for getting back together

you’re out of this house

you fucking whore

I’d never been called a whore before. Part of me wanted to tell Rush, just to get it off my chest. To maybe cry into his. But the more time I spent with him, the more I was learning that he was a protector.

He wouldn’t let those texts go. So later, when I was alone, I’d delete them instead and block Justin’s number. And someday, when this child of mine was old enough, I’d teach him or her, boy or girl, to never use the word whore.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” I said. “I’m sorry for this. I’ll start looking for a new place tomor⁠—”

“Stay.” Rush’s finger landed on my lips.

Our gazes locked. I held the air in my lungs, afraid to exhale. Afraid that if I moved at all, even a blink, something between us would snap.

I didn’t trust myself around Rush. I was seconds away from leaning into that finger or rising up on my toes to beg for a kiss when he cleared his throat.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He towered over me, eyes searching mine. “Say yes, Faye.”

“Yes.” My backbone might as well have been a wet noodle.

It was a whisper and my lips barely moved, but the friction against his finger was enough to send a fresh wave of tingles zinging down my spine.

I missed being touched. Being held. Being kissed. I missed feeling worshipped and craved. I missed Rush’s large hands kneading my curves and the weight of his strong body pinning me to his bed.

I hadn’t let myself replay that night, not for weeks. But here? In this house where it had all begun, how could I ignore it?

Ignore him?

Rush was charming and sexy and patient with exactly the right amount of pushy.

“Good.” The corner of Rush’s mouth turned up as he dropped his finger.

That should have been the end of it. We both should have broken apart, except he trailed that same finger across my cheek until it reached a tendril of hair that had escaped my ponytail. He twirled it around his knuckle.

Kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me so badly the words almost escaped my mouth.

Rush kept twirling the hair, tighter and tighter, like the coil in my lower belly, until I leaned into his touch.

He moved first. I moved first. Did it matter?

His face was an inch from mine and his gaze locked on my lips.

A kiss would be a horrible idea. Reckless and hasty and asking for more trouble than I was already in with this man.

But did I move?

Nope. Would it be as good as I remembered? A kiss from Rush Ramsey?

Part of me hoped it wasn’t. Part of me hoped I’d built it up in my own head and reality would fall flat. How much easier would it be if that was the case?

Except the rational part of me knew it would probably be better than the first. And then I’d really be screwed.

There was only one way to replace out.

His hand threaded into my hair, five fingers sliding through the roots until they reached the elastic tie and tugged it free. Rush’s breath tickled my cheek.

My lips parted.

The front door flew open.

“Hey, whose car is parked on the stre—” A tall guy with brown hair came to a sudden stop on the entryway’s mat when he spotted us.

Rush cleared his throat and took a step away.

My face flamed as I did the same. “It’s, um, my car.”

“Ah.” The keys in his hand jingled as he tucked them into a jeans pocket. “You must be Faye?”

“Yes.”

“Faye, this is Maverick Houston. Mav, this is Faye.”

I lifted a hand to wave. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same.”

That sounded kind of like a lie. Maverick’s expression was skeptical at best.

What had Rush told him about us? Did he know I was his new roommate? What about Erik? Had Rush texted them during the move? What were the chances I’d swapped one awkward home for another?

Whether Rush liked it or not, tomorrow’s first item on my to-do list was more apartment hunting. Were there any places in Mission that wouldn’t require a deposit? Because I didn’t have one. Not with Justin taking all of this month’s rent. That asshole.

“Give us a minute?” Rush asked me, then nodded to the stairs.

“Yeah. I’ll, um . . . unpack.”

I kept my eyes on the hardwood floor as I walked past the coffee table and couch. I was almost at the top of the staircase when Maverick spoke.

“Did she just say ‘unpack’?”

I cringed and moved faster, practically running down the hall to my room. But even with its door closed, I could hear voices downstairs. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, not that it mattered. The tone was enough.

Maverick was clearly pissed that Rush hadn’t consulted with him on this first. Erik would probably feel the same.

I walked to the edge of the bed and plopped down on the bare mattress. With my knees hugged to my chest, I closed my eyes and listened to the deep rumble of voices until they stopped. And then a door slammed shut, the vibration carrying through the walls.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” I whispered to myself.

A soft knock came at my door. “Faye.”

“Come in.”

Rush stepped inside and strode to the bed, taking a seat beside me. Whatever had happened earlier, whatever kiss might have happened, was gone. He kept two feet between us as he leaned his elbows to his knees.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be. Erik is never around. He won’t care. Mav is, well . . . don’t worry about Mav.”

“I think, in the long run, it’s better that I replace my own place.”

Rush hummed.

Not a yes. Not a no. But it was so far from the way he’d asked me to stay earlier that I hugged my knees tighter.

Without a doubt, it had been a mistake to come here. To make such an impulsive decision.

Except I didn’t have anywhere else to go, not really.

“I don’t have any money,” I blurted.

Whether Rush thought I should be humiliated or not didn’t matter. This could be the most embarrassing situation of my life. I was poor. Pathetic. Exactly like my mother had told me so many times.

And mostly, I hated that his house was so nice and that he’d seen where I’d been living. In Justin’s shitty trailer in a dodgy part of town.

“It’s why I stayed with Justin. I’m broke. We didn’t talk about rent. But this room is . . . well, you saw where I came from. I can’t afford this.”

I had no idea what the price was for this place, but without question, it was beyond my budget.

“You don’t have to pay.”

How had I known he’d say that? Did he realize that only made it worse? “I have to pay.”

He hummed again.

“I can’t be a freeloader. I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity.”

“It feels like it to me.” If all I had left right now was my pride, then I’d cling to it with all my might. “I was always going to leave Justin’s once I had more money saved up, but I have no extra. Not right now.”

Talking about money, or my lack thereof, felt like stripping off my clothes and standing naked in front of a stranger.

No one really knew how much I struggled to make ends meet. Dusty might have suspected, but money wasn’t exactly something we discussed. Mostly because she didn’t have much extra either.

I could swing three hundred dollars a month in rent. Two fifty if I was being honest with myself. “How much do you pay?”

Rush stayed quiet.

“Tell me.”

“Four hundred each.”

Oh, God. I was officially mortified.

My pride—that beautiful, glorious pride—slipped from my grasp like drops of blood, splattering at my feet.

“Okay,” I murmured. “Four hundred.”

“You don’t have to pay that much. This room has been empty all year.”

“I have to pay.” To make it fair, the rent would be three hundred. That was better than four hundred, but not by much. “All right.”

Rush twisted, his gaze hot on my profile as I stared at an invisible spot on the floor. “Is it school? You work all the time. You’re trying to pay for school, right?”

“Yes. And Gloria.”

“Gloria?”

I nodded. “I give anything extra to my sister. Chuck, her dad, has a good job, but he’s not loaded. She’s not old enough to get a job yet, and when she is, I want her to concentrate on school.”

She’d have to get a job. It would be good for her to get a job. But I didn’t want her trying to work twenty-plus hours a week like I had at sixteen.

Granted, I doubted Chuck would make her pay for food like Mom had done for me. And Chuck would probably buy her a car.

“I never had extra when I was her age,” I told Rush. “I didn’t get nice jeans or name-brand shoes. I bought everything from thrift stores or the discount rack. High school kids are cruel. I don’t want her to endure the judgment I did at her age. So I help where I can. I want her to come to the diner at night for homework, not to wait tables. But it means I make sacrifices. My budget can sometimes be stretched thin.”

And it was about to be thinner.

It hung unspoken between us, the reality of our future.

Of mine.

Rush moved closer, the mattress shifting, until only an inch separated our shoulders. “You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

He had no idea. I was alone. Always alone. “I don’t want⁠—”

“Pity.” He held up a hand. “I know. It’s not pity. It’s help. I’m offering. All you have to do is take it.”

Wasn’t that pity? What was the difference between it and help? “I’m not sure I know how.”

He glanced over, his eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat. “You don’t really know how to accept help, do you?”

I shrugged. “I guess it hasn’t happened enough.”

“You let me change the tire. So let me do this too. Stay here until the end of the month. Then we’ll reassess.”

Simple. Except it wasn’t.

What happened if I got used to his help? What happened when he was gone, off to play in the NFL, and I was here, left behind?

“Hey.” He nudged my elbow with his. “Is that a yes?”

Did I have another choice? “Yes.”

“Thank you. I have a good feeling about this.”

Well, that made one of us. My stomach was in a knot.

Rush bent and kissed my hair before he stood and left me alone, closing the door behind him.

I wasn’t sure what it meant that he kept kissing me. That he might have kissed me earlier too. But whatever it meant, I doubted it would last.

Nothing good lasted. It would probably only muddle feelings and make it harder in the end.

Still, I liked it enough not to ask him to stop.