And she never will be.
Chapter Thirteen
Carson
Stretched out flat on the bench, I focus on the bar, gradually lifting it above my chest before bringing it down again with measured movements. Once I finish the rep, I repeat it fourteen more times. The second I stop focusing all of my energies on the precision of the exercise, Elle relentlessly forces her way back inside my brain. Permanent eviction doesn’t seem to be a possibility. The more I try to untangle myself from these thoughts and feelings that have slyly taken hold, the more I find myself ensnared in them. It’s like I’m caught in a trap of my own making.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted Elle. In the past, I’ve been able to keep those emotions locked up tight where they couldn’t see the light of day. Where life couldn’t be breathed into them. I could be around her and pretend the need to tug her into my arms and bury my face against the delicate hollow of her throat didn’t exist. I was able to deny the ache inside me that demanded I claim and mark her as my own.
That option no longer exists.
The battle to keep all of this emotion contained is exhausting.
Especially now that I know she’s a virgin and has been saving herself for me.
For me.
How the hell am I supposed to walk away from that?
From her?
The simple answer is that I can’t. Each day that passes, it becomes increasingly more difficult to do the right thing.
I snap back to the present when the metal door to the team weight room opens and Brayden walks in. He gives me a chin lift in greeting before stopping near the end of the bench.
“You just get here?”
“About twenty minutes ago.” I refocus my attention before raising the bar. “I’ve already done a few sets.”
When we’re in season, we aren’t supposed to lift. The time to build muscle and get stronger is in the off-season. My problem is that it’s the only thing that takes my mind off her. I’m tired of going round and round in my head and trying to figure out a solution where none exists.
Even though nothing has happened with Elle since the party, it still feels like I’ve betrayed Brayden. Guilt swamps me, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.
The heavy metal music pumping in the background fills the silence that stretches between us as he begins his own reps. The words are on the tip of my tongue, fighting to break free, just waiting to assuage the remorse that hangs around my neck like a debilitating weight. I’ve imagined broaching the subject of his sister with him a hundred different ways and the conversation always ends the same.
With him punching me in the face.
“Hey,” he says, interrupting the chaotic whirl of my thoughts. “You mentioned something the other day about one of Elle’s professors.” When his gaze flickers in my direction, I jerk my head in acknowledgment. “Do you really think there’s something going on between them?” Concern weaves its way through his voice.
I wince, realizing that specific conversation should have taken place with Elle in private. At the time, I’d been pissed off, unable to stop thinking about seeing them together at the coffee shop. The question had escaped before I could rein it in.
“I don’t know,” I mutter. “Probably not.”
I’ve spent a lot of time going over the interaction in my head, and the answer I’ve arrived at is that it’s more than likely just as she’s claimed—harmless. The guy understands she’s a student who struggles in his class and simply stopped to offer his help. Not that I’ll be mentioning it to Brayden, but I’m pretty sure my jealousy got the better of me.
“You don’t think it’s weird he drove her home?”
“No.”
Maybe.
On one hand, I’m glad she didn’t walk all the way back to the dorms alone. It was a stupid decision on her part to leave the party without her friends. What I can’t tell Brayden is that I’m the reason she left in the first place. I’m the one she was trying to escape from.
But...I know how guys think. Even older ones who have no business checking out their students. Deep down, we’re all the same. No matter how much we’ve evolved as a species, we all think with our dicks.
And Elle is a gorgeous girl. She’s tall and slender with the right amount of curves. Her breasts are high and tight, and she has legs that go on for miles. They’re long and lean. Have I fantasized on more than one occasion about having them locked around my waist while I drove deep inside her heat?
Guilty.
I’ve dreamed about winding the thick length of her hair around my hand and pulling her head back until my lips could fasten onto hers. Those images are all it takes for my cock to stiffen up. I have to shake myself out of the dangerous thoughts that are slyly attempting to wrap their way around me.