The Right Move (Windy City Series Book 2)
The Right Move: Chapter 15

While Indy is showering inside, I make sure all the canvases are down to cover the glass walls for the night. Needing, at least, to sleep in privacy. The walls are built into an A-frame, the highest point of the ceiling aiming straight to the sky. A separate drawstring is attached to the canvases on the roof, so I test one, tugging to see what happens. The fabric covering one half of the ceiling opens, giving the cabin an open skylight to watch the stars from bed. I do the same to the other half before heading inside and locking the door behind me.

Before I can look up to see the view, I replace a much more spectacular one standing naked in the center of the room wearing only a towel and looking up towards the sky.

“Wow,” Indy exhales, her head thrown back. “That’s beautiful.”

I honestly couldn’t care less what’s up north. If she saw how stunning she looked with a light layer of moisture coating her body or the slight flush to her cheeks from her warm shower, she would understand my disinterest in looking away.

“The stars are so bright out here,” she continues. “I never see them in the city.” Brown eyes track me. “Ryan?”

I nod. “Stunning.”

Every fiber in my body wants to close the gap between us and kiss her right now. And if she asked for more than that, I don’t think I’d be able to hold back. It’s a terrifying revelation to have, especially when we’re minutes away from crawling into bed together.

She’s your sister’s best friend. She’s going through a nasty breakup. She’s your roommate, for fuck’s sake.

This room is too fucking small to share with her when she’s naked and smelling clean and tropical from her soap.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

Head down, I take two quick steps in that direction, needing to get behind a closed door, only to run into a soaking wet blonde. Our bodies collide, the impact dropping her towel to the floor. I know this because my hands are around her bare back to steady her, and two hard peaks are pressed into my upper stomach.

“Oh my God.” She freezes. “Oh. My. God.”

My eyes are locked on that scenery I refused to look at before, even though the temptation could not be greater to see what’s in my hands. “Indy, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m sorry! I was going to get my things out of the shower for you.”

Calloused fingers curl into the soft, warm flesh on her back, and my teeth clench together. “I need you to very carefully pick your towel up off the ground. Right now.”

If I thought I had strong self-control before, nothing compares to the restraint I’m experiencing at this moment because as she slowly bends to the ground, she brushes against my cock. I hiss an inhale, as if all my blood wasn’t already headed in that direction before she grazed it.

Her laugh holds an awkward edge. “Oops. Sorry.”

As soon as I sense her body is covered once again, I take the final step into the bathroom and close the door behind me.

What the fuck sort of evil thing did I manage to do in order to earn this kind of temptation? I’ve gone years, years without giving a woman as much as a second glance, and now the one I can’t stop thinking about is living in my house.

Fuck. The bathroom smells like her. I smell like her from holding her in my lap all night. Part of me doesn’t want to wash her off my skin, but most of me knows I need to take care of the painful erection I’ve tried to hide all night before I crawl into bed next to her.

I let the water pound against my back as I brace my palms on the wall. I shouldn’t do this, but the need is too strong. I won’t picture her, though. I won’t picture anyone.

But as soon as my fist wraps around my cock, an image invades my mind. Indy on her knees, soft brown eyes begging for my dick.

No. No, stop picturing her.

Indy’s lips form a pretty little “O” as she bats her lashes, looking up at me from the shower floor. Her lilac-painted fingers are clawing at my thighs and hips, needy and begging for me to let her work.

My fingers entangle in those blonde tresses, pulling her hair the way I’ve pictured since the day she walked into my apartment. A quick lash of her tongue heats the underside of my tip, all the while she keeps her attention on me.

Fuck, I wish this were real. I stroke myself, imagining it is. Her coconut body wash sits on the ledge, and without thinking, I pour some into my palm, rub it against my skin, and create a lather before using the slickness on my cock. Her scent invades my nostrils, creating an even more convincing picture.

“We shouldn’t do this,” I remind her, tugging her chin down with my thumb, opening her mouth.

Her pink lips form into a pout. “But I want to. I need to. Please, Ryan.”

Goddamn, I love the way she says my name and imagining her voice when she says it brings me that much closer to the edge.

“I know how to make you feel better.” She swirls her tongue around the head. “Please let me make you feel better.”

“You want it, Blue?”

She nods, all doe-eyed and innocent. It’s one of my favorite things about Indy, how confident and charismatic she is to the outside world, but then she’s soft to those who know her.

I pick her up off the ground, slinging those long legs around my waist and pushing her back to the tiled wall. “Then let me give it to you.”

I tighten my hand around my base, pulling and stroking, keeping my eyes closed as the water beats down on me.

My cock slides against her pussy and she lets out the prettiest little whimper.

I want to fuck her so badly it hurts.

“You feel…” Her chest pounds against mine, trying to catch her breath. “God, you feel so good, Ryan.”

She does too, according to my imagination. I pick up the speed and tighten my grasp, imagining it’s Indy’s body clenching around me and not my own fist.

“Put it in. Put it in. Please,” she begs. “I need you. Please.”

She bucks her hips off the wall, needing to meet mine, and as soon as I imagine pushing into her, jets of cum hit the shower tile with force. My release is almost blinding as I come harder than I have in a very long time. Continuing to stroke myself, I let every last drop fall and swirl down the drain, allowing the water to wash away what I just did.

With an acute awareness, I realize how utterly and completely wrong I was, thinking that would get Indy out of my system. Now, my body is begging for the real thing, wanting to know what she sounds like when she comes.

If I were any other man, I’d go replace someone else to sleep with and get a quick fuck out of my system, hoping it’d fix the issue. But seeing as I’m me, and I can’t allow myself to be vulnerable enough, even for a one-night stand, I’m left dreaming of the blonde living in my house.

If I’m being honest with myself, I know no one else would do it for me right now. No one else has done it for me in years, but that doesn’t change that this can’t happen. I won’t allow it. Tomorrow, I’ll wake up and the first thing I’ll think about is my game. My day will continue that way, until I wake the following morning and do it all over again. Rinse and repeat until my mindset is back where it should be—my career.

This fucked-up daydream—the one where I can’t seem to think about anything other than getting into bed with Indy—ends the second we leave this goddamn campsite.

Indy’s back is towards me when I leave the bathroom, wearing only my towel. The cabin is small and she’s everywhere. Her clothes. Her smell.

“Enjoy your shower?” she asks.

Best fucking shower of my life. The teasing tone of her voice tells me I could bet good money that she heard me and already knows the answer.

“Yeah, it was very—”

“Wet.”

Fuck me. Just hearing the word wet pop out of her mouth has me gearing up for another round with my hand.

“Yes, Blue. The shower was wet.”

She giggles at the innuendo, and I drop the towel, slipping into a pair of shorts while she’s still facing away from me.

“No pillows?” I round the bed to replace my side empty.

“Not tonight. I guess you’ll do.” She eyes my chest, those brown eyes appearing more hooded than usual. “You’re not wearing a shirt.”

“Lucky you.”

She softly laughs and as I lift the cover to slip under her sheets, I ask, “Is this okay?”

Shyly, she nods her head.

Dipping between the sheets, I’m cautious to leave some room between us. I lay on my side to face her. “Thank you again. For helping me out tonight.”

“I had fun.” She tucks her hands under her cheek as we maintain a good foot of space between us.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re getting better at faking it. We might have a real shot of pulling this off at the wedding.”

The realization of why it might come more naturally to me now is terrifying.

“Good.” I offer her a slight lift of my lips before turning around to face the wall. “Night, Blue.”

“Good night.” She exhales a long breath, and I can feel the dip in the bed as she turns around too.

I need to sleep. I have a game tomorrow, and the sooner I can pass out, the sooner this outing is over. I know I should be looking forward to this evening ending so I can refocus on the purpose for this charade—to prove I can be a good leader, to actually lead this team to the playoffs—but I don’t want it to be over. I like that people believe she’s mine. I like how it feels to have her in my bed.

Flipping on my back, I get a glimpse of Indy’s blonde hair cascading down her pillow, her back to me. Maybe it’s more torture than anything, having her so close, but still maintaining the boundary of her being my roommate and sister’s best friend.

Indy flips onto her back as well, and as she does, her hand accidentally falls into my open palm between us, but she pulls it away instantaneously, a wave of awkwardness washing over us. Even though we’ve touched and held each other in public, this is different. No one is here to witness and therefore, it’s no longer an act. It’s simply two roommates who technically have no reason to share physical contact.

There’s a heavy silence in the room, and not the kind when two people are trying to fall asleep, but the type that’s buzzing with anticipation because you’re both aware of just how awake you are.

A beat passes between us before hesitantly, Indy slips her hand back in mine. It’s soft and small, and I close my fingers around hers before she can leave me again.

I can almost hear my nervous heart beating in the silence until her thumb skims mine in a gentle stroke, and fuck if I don’t want to yank her on top of me and kiss her right now. But I can’t. For a multitude of reasons, I can’t, so I keep our hands as the only point of contact.

I aim my eyes up towards the sky, basking in the stars, being outside. I missed this freedom.

“Hey, Ind?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“About last night. I didn’t say it, but I do care about you. You know that, right?”

She lightly squeezes my hand. “I know you do. But it’s nice to hear it. Words of affirmation and all that.”

“Right. Now, this is the part where you tell me how much you care about me.”

She yawns—forcibly. “Oh, man. It’s getting late. So tired.”

“You suck.”

The bed moves from her quiet laughter. She turns to face me, her hand still in mine and her other tucked under her cheek. “I care about you too, Ry.”

Even though I’m looking at the night sky, I can see her watching me in my periphery.

Her voice is barely a whisper when she asks, “Do you trust me?”

In theory, it’s a simple question with a simple answer. But trust is the most complicated belief in my world of black and white. If most people asked the question, it’d be an easy no, but with Indy, after only weeks of knowing her, the answer is undoubtedly, “Yes.”

Looking over at her, her expression is soft, hopeful.

“What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. I just know how big that is coming from you.”

I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb as I turn my body to face her, the only remaining space between us is where our hands are connected.

“Will you tell me a secret?” she asks quietly. “Something no one else knows.”

Without hesitation, Marissa and the month following my college graduation runs through my mind. It’s my biggest secret. Only my sister knows what I lost, but as much as I trust Indy, I’m not sure if I’m ready to share.

Instead, I offer her another secret, something just as true. “You make me feel relaxed. Like I can be myself.”

She holds eye contact, reading me before breaking into a laugh. “Don’t lie to me, Shay. You constantly complain about how messy I am. No way in hell do I relax you.”

“You’re chaotic as fuck, Blue, but you bring me more peace than anyone else.”

She stops her giggling.

“Yes, I worry about you and that stresses me out. And you’ve practically shit a rainbow all over my apartment which almost gave me an ulcer, but when you’re home I don’t feel like I have to put on a show. I have a hard time with new people. I’m sure you know that by now. But with you, I can be myself, and that might seem like nothing to anyone else, but to me, it’s everything.”

Silence lingers between us, but I wish she’d just fucking say something.

“Stop being nice to me or you’re going to make me cry.”

I smile at that. “You always cry.”

“I know! But that was really nice to hear, Ryan.”

Fisting my free hand, I keep it at my side, holding back from touching her. I don’t want her to misinterpret my reasoning for being vulnerable. I did it simply because she deserves to hear how special she is.

“Since you didn’t give me the secret I wanted, I’ll just ask. You can decide if you answer.”

Pausing, I give her time to ask the question I inevitably know is coming.

“Why don’t you date?”

Exhaling, I scrub my free hand over my head.

Fuck it. I already know I’m going to give her the not so pretty details one day. “The last woman I was in a relationship with tried to get knocked up so she’d get eighteen years of child support from me.”

Indy stays eerily silent.

“As if she did get pregnant with my child, I wouldn’t be involved.” I chuckle without much humor behind it.

“Ryan—”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You won’t date because of that. That’s why you have a hard time trusting people? This is the woman from college?”

I nod, silently answering both questions.

In a rare moment, Indy is speechless, maybe picking up on the fact I don’t want to talk about this any longer. But she gives me her silent support through the squeeze of my hand.

“Will you tell me a secret now?” I ask.

“I don’t have many secrets. I’m kind of an open book if you couldn’t tell.”

“What are you saving money for?”

I can almost see the wheels turning in her head, contemplating this conversation.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No. No, it’s nothing to be secretive about and it’s nothing exciting. Just…promise me you won’t laugh.”

“Well, now I’m intrigued.”

Even through the darkness, with the stars illuminating her face a bit, I can see her looking away from me.

“I’m saving money to have my eggs frozen.”

Huh?

My brows are creased in confusion. “Why? You’re still so young.”

“I know I am, but my ovaries aren’t. Thanks to my genetic line, at twenty-seven, I’ve got some old-ass eggs. All I’ve ever wanted is to be a mom, and I don’t care how. Stepmom. Foster mom. Adoptive mom. But if I want to keep the very slim chance of being a biological mom, this is my only hope. It might be too late already, I don’t know, but I need to try.”

Okay, now I can’t help but touch her. Grazing my fingertips across her cheek, I push her hair behind her ear. “Why would I laugh at that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been told I sound desperate. Maybe I do, but I don’t care. It’s the one thing I’ve always wanted in life. It’s just unfolding a little differently than I pictured. I refuse to ask my parents for help. It’s my potential family and I want to do this for myself, but that means working more to make some extra cash.”

“Who called you desperate?”

“I don’t remember,” she answers far too quickly.

My little lying roommate. It was her ex. That’s clear as fucking day.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way because I’m genuinely just being curious. But why did you wait so long? If you’re worried it’s already too late, I mean.”

She exhales. “Ryan, I’m pretty sure you already know the answer to all these questions. I didn’t do it sooner because the man who I thought was going to be the father of my children told me he wanted to start trying. Soon, I mean. It was always ‘soon.’ It wasn’t that I wanted to have kids right then. I was young. I’m still young, but I did need to make a decision or a plan, and his plan was to continually dangle ‘let’s try soon’ in front of me. It’s my fault for not taking action, so that’s on me.”

I let go of her hand and instead, tuck one arm under her body, pulling her into my chest. She hides in the crook of my neck, so I speak softly, my lips to her ear. “There’s nothing desperate about going after what you want most in life. So, fuck him for saying it because even if you don’t want to tell me, I know it was him.”

“It might end up being a waste of money.”

“Money comes and goes. This is your life. Be selfish for once, Ind. You spent six years catering to that guy’s timeline. It’s about time you do something for yourself.”

She buries herself deeper into my neck.

“And ironically, you want a child so you have someone else to take care of and therefore you’re not being selfish at all.”

Her body shakes against mine with quiet laughter. “God, what’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing. You’re a nurturer. It’s who you are.”

“I think you’re a nurturer too.”

An awkward laugh escapes me. “I don’t know about that.”

“Yeah, because you’re not caring and protective and sweet at all. You’re just a selfish basketball player who only thinks about himself and his career.”

Her voice carries a sarcastic tone, but she’s not far off. That’s who I am.

“And you’re probably mentally agreeing with me, but you’re wrong. One day, you’ll see it.”

I run my palm over her back, quickly learning that Indy didn’t bring those footy pajamas she threatened me with. She’s wearing some kind of silky sleep set and I could not be more thankful I can’t see underneath the blankets. Because I know it looks as good as it feels in my hands, and I’m over here trying my fucking hardest to be a gentleman while sharing a bed with my biggest weakness.

Indy lifts her head from my neck to look at me. The subtle glow of the stars outlines the slope of her nose, the fluttering of her lashes, the soft pillows of her lips. She wets the bottom one with a slick slide of her tongue.

Fuck me, I want her, and even though she’s made it clear she’s got nothing left to give, I replace myself desperate to take even the scraps if they’re offered.

What I’m not sure I can do is separate a physical relationship from the rest the way she wants, so instead of taking her mouth, I brush her hair behind her ear and place my lips on her forehead.

Indy yawns, repositioning herself as I lay back on the bed. She rests her cheek on my bare chest and slings an arm over my waist.

“To be honest, my stack of pillows is much more comfortable than your chest, but I guess you’ll do.” She readjusts. “Seriously, Ryan, it’s like sleeping on a goddamn boulder.”

“You’re awfully whiney for a girl who’s practically burrowing her way into my skin right now.”

“Shut up.”

Wearing an amused smile, I pull the blankets higher over our bodies before wrapping both my arms around her to make sure she can’t get away. With my fingertips, I trace invisible designs over her ribs, memorizing the way she molds against me.

Her breathing slows after some time, but I don’t think I’ll sleep a wink. I can’t recall the last time I shared my bed with a woman, and as sad as it sounds, I don’t want to miss a moment of this.

She inhales deeply. “Ryan?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you smell like coconut?”