38. MADDIE

CHAPTER 38

MADDIE

" A re you sure about this? It's a pretty bold statement."

From the kitchen of my apartment, Aran says, "As sure as I am about how my name's actually pronounced."

I pad out of my room in socks and stop in front of him. He's tossing a banana into the blender, but he pauses when I raise my arms out to the sides. Surprisingly, his jersey is ginormous on me. Not surprisingly, he's never getting it back. But it's one thing to wear the piece of fabric with the C on my chest and Rodriguez with a big number1 on the back when I'm at home with Ryan. It's quite another to wear it tonight at the national championship game to watch him play.

"We've only been dating for two days, you know?" I explain so he thinks about it carefully.

His eyes roam down my body and stop at my legs. That's when I remember I haven't put on my jeans yet. Maybe I'm getting a bit too comfortable showing skin in front of my brand-new boyfriend.

Slowly, he lifts his eyes. "What's under the jersey?"

My lips twitch. "What do you think?"

"Hopefully nothing. Say it's nothing."

"Underwear, Aran. I wouldn't go out wearing your jersey and nothing else."

"That's a good point. Let's keep the nudity only between us." Aran dumps the rest of the ingredients into the blender and turns it on. I feel like that's a metaphor that applies to me too.

Shaking my head, I head back to my room and put on the jeans I should've been wearing all along. It's not like Aran is a one-track-mind kind of guy, but it's very easy to send it into the gutter. The problem, I'm finding, is that when he gets my mind in the gutter, it can get very dangerous. Like at the lake this time around. If it hadn't been for his semifinal game, we would've taken things a step further right there in the wild.

Which… maybe wouldn't have been so bad.

I shake my head and smack my cheeks, looking at myself in the mirror. Maybe the perv has been me all along.

"Focus, Maddie," I whisper at my reflection. "We're here to get studying done before his big game. Nothing else."

"Why not?" I jump out of my skin. Aran's leaning against the doorframe, arms folded. "We could study our mouths some more. And so many other parts that we could study with our hands or our mouths—preferably both. According to research, such activities help athletes focus before their games."

"Are you trying to sound academic while pitching sex to me?"

His eyebrows go up. "Is it working?"

"No."

"That's fine. Academic research is all about trying again and again." Aran shrugs.

"Good gravy," I mutter, barely biting back my smile. "Let's go put your mind on your very last essay, okay?"

He stretches out one hand, and I immediately slide my fingers between his. They're so big they stretch mine out a bit. Yet there's nothing more perfect than when we hold hands like this. Not with a weak grip that can be broken easily, but all in. Tight. As if our lives depend on it.

I pull him to the living room, and we settle on the floor with our backs against the couch. Aran lets my hand go only to put his arm around my shoulders and pull me against his side. With the other hand, he fires his laptop back up. He'll have to type one-handed, because there's no way I'm getting out of this embrace. I lean my head on his shoulder and pick up my reading packet from the coffee table.

We get maybe ten minutes of actual work done, with Aran reading his business case and me studying the material for my advanced creative writing elective, before he decides my neck is more interesting. He brushes my hair away, and I feel his breath against my skin.

"Aran."

"Maddie?" he whispers against my ear.

I can't possibly think of what to say when he closes his teeth softly around my earlobe. Turns out we both like to bite and, um, be bitten. Because I shudder so hard it makes him chuckle.

I grab his knee, but it's not the warning I was hoping for. Not when his muscles feel so delectable under his sweatpants. And the fabric is very thin. I knead, trying to map them all in my mind.

"Careful with that hand, Strawberry."

"Or what?"

I feel him curl a finger into the jersey's neck and pull, brushing my skin until it hits the strap of my bra. Then he pulls on that too. My eyes roll shut as he kisses my shoulder. Softly. So softly it's barely a whisper. And now every inch of my skin has goose bumps.

My tongue's heavy, and my words come out weird. "Aran, we only have a couple of hours before your game."

He smiles against my neck. "You're right. This deserves a lot more time."

I clear my throat. Twice. "Right. So can we get back to studying?"

"No."

Not only was I not expecting that answer, but I also wasn't expecting him to pull me up and against him, grabbing my thighs and spreading them apart until I'm on his lap. Straddling him. And facing him. With his hands all cozy on my hips. Under the jersey.

I'm going to combust as he looks at me with those deep eyes that see right through me. And his smirk tells me he knows I'm putty in his hands.

"How about this?" he says in that low voice of his that hits me like a lightning bolt. "We study each other a little now, and then we do some serious overtime after the game."

"Would that be considered a reverse-tutoring session?"

"Of course. I plan to teach my favorite student many things."

"Like what?" I ask against his lips just as his hand travels up my back, ever so slowly, leaving a trail of goose bumps until it settles under the strap of my bra.

He shows me with a kiss that feels like so much more, and it tears strange sounds from my throat I've never heard before.

It feels unfair to have his hands on my bare skin, though, so I take advantage of the fact that he's busy with my mouth to sneak my own hands under his sweatshirt. The chocolate abs tense as I blatantly grope them. I take my time exploring every plane and groove, but it's when I touch his sides that he growls.

"So you're sensitive there?"

"Do that again and I'll flip you onto your back and do the same to you." Aran's voice is basically a growl, which I appreciate. Means I'm on the right path.

"Oh yeah?"

Aran narrows his eyes. I feel him grab me tighter, about to follow through—when the door opens.

We both turn. Ryan's eyes and mouth are as wide as they go. She clutches a bag from the grocery story against her chest and says, "Yeah, I'm gonna go puke over the railing. Bye."

With that, she walks right back out and shuts the door.

Slowly, I turn back to Aran. "So, um. I guess she now knows we're officially together, huh?"

Mirth dances in his eyes. "And she's about to tell everyone else. You can safely wear the jersey tonight."

"I see." I nod to myself. "Guess I will. And I should probably get my hands off you now so Ryan can come into her own apartment."

"But I like your hands on me."

Laughing, I lean forward and press a little kiss on the tip of his nose. "Let's leave that for the overtime study after you win the championship."

The grin that blooms on Aran's face is enough to make me fall in love with him all over again. It's the one he keeps hidden from everyone but me. When we're happy together. I can't wait to see it for the rest of my life.

"Looking forward to it, Strawberry."