31. Chapter 31

A rriving at my parents' house for Thanksgiving dinner is nothing short of overwhelming. Cars line the driveway, forcing us to park down the street. It's been a few years since I've been home for one of my mom's famous Thanksgiving dinners, and it seems the guest list has only grown in size.

JP practically jumps from the SUV as Tyler shifts the car into park. Apparently, Thanksgiving is JP's favorite holiday. He woke everyone up by yelling, "Wakey, wakey! It's Turkey Day!" from the living room at seven o'clock this morning. The Thanksgiving Day Parade coverage was blaring from our TV starting at eight thirty.

With coffees in hand, the four of us lounged around all morning, watching float after float before we switched the channel to the first NFL game of the day. It was a very chill, very basic morning until we all had to get ready for the four o'clock dinner at my parents' house.

"Bro, would you chill? The food isn't going to be gone." Tyler shuts the driver's side door as the lock sounds beeping.

JP glances over his shoulder as he's already quite a few feet in front of us. "But Mrs. C makes the best mashed potatoes."

I shake my head. My mom makes good mashed potatoes, but dinner isn't served until five. She instructs everyone to get to their house at four to allow plenty of time for everyone to settle. Someone is always running late, so to avoid her plate getting cold for hosting duties, she tells everyone the start is at an earlier time. I think it's kind of genius.

Passing the next-door neighbor's driveway, we follow the sidewalk past the perfectly manicured lawn my parents pay a landscaping company to maintain. The two-story white brick house stands out against the black trim and green bushes in the flowerbeds—another thing the landscaping company takes care of. As much as my mom loves to garden, with my dad's coaching schedule, they've resorted to hiring some help around the property. Their home sits on an acre in a gated community thirty minutes from campus. A mixture of CEOs, doctors, retired NFL players, and even a celebrity or two live in our community.

We followed a few people up the front steps, where my mother stood inside the door, welcoming her guests. Her brunette hair is slicked back in her signature chignon bun. The brown plaid dress clings to her and accentuates her frame. She's dressed as a dutiful housewife, simple and stylish, prepared to host a lovely dinner.

With the slightest of touches, I feel Crew's fingers slide against my hand. Glancing up, he flashes me a subtle wink as he creates more space between us. It's the smallest of gestures, but it warms my heart. It's his way of saying that he's keeping his distance, but he's still thinking of me.

"My favorite daughter!" Mom's excited voice welcomes us as it's our turn to enter the house. With arms open wide, I step into her embrace.

"Mom, I'm your only daughter."

Pulling back, she holds me at arm's length, taking in my appearance. Today's outfit is out of my go-to comfort zone. A burnt orange sweater vest hangs off my exposed shoulders and is slightly tucked into my black, cropped flared jeans with the knees ripped out. My sneakers were exchanged for black-heeled booties, which I rarely wear anything heeled. And my long black hair is curled voluptuously down my back.

"You look lovely, darling." Mom's eyes bounce from mine to where my three roommates stand. "All of you look so handsome."

And they do. JP is dressed in dark-washed denim and a lightweight cream sweater, which contrasts with his dark skin. Tyler is wearing khaki dress pants and a navy polo shirt, while Crew is wearing medium-washed jeans and a plaid shirt. He looks like the country boy he is.

"Please come in. There are coolers lining the back patio filled with everything under the sun. Make yourselves at home." Mom steps aside as each man bends down and hugs her as they thank her for hosting.

Following the guys, we made our way through the entryway into the open living room, which led into the large kitchen. Every surface was covered in burnt oranges, browns, and creams, as all of the fall decor was placed in the perfect location, creating an inviting and cozy atmosphere. The air smelled of an array of scents, from pumpkin-scented candles to the roasting turkey.

Groups of people mill around the space, spilling out to the backyard where tents and tables are placed. Familiar faces of relatives and family friends greet me, some pulling me in for conversation. Comments on my hair, questions on where I've been, and everything in between are asked. And while I knew the shock of seeing me would have people flocking toward me, I was hoping to find a table in the corner and just people-watch.

"Bret, sweetie, there you are," Mom interrupts my conversation with a nosy family friend looking for the scoop. She's the type who acts incredibly sweet, hoping you'll open up to her, and then spreads your gossip around town. I welcome the interruption from Mom .

"Excuse us," I tell the lady as I turn toward Mom, who smiles politely as she ushers me away. We weave through the crowd until she finds a quiet spot inside the kitchen away from eavesdropping ears.

"Sweetie, your father and I would like you to meet friends of ours' son. He'll be joining us for supper and is a medical student at CTU."

Mentally processing the news, I quickly rack my brain as I try to figure out how to get out of this. I'm not interested, and my parents don't know I'm dating.

"Oh, I-I…That's nice of you guys, but I'm…I'm kind of seeing someone."

"Nonsense. Sweetie, how are you kind of seeing someone?"

"It's complicated."

"Oh." Her face softens as she places a gentle hand on my forearm. "Bret, no guy should ever make you feel like your status with him is complicated. He should want to be fully with you or without you. You're too good of a woman to settle for complicated."

"Mom—" I start, but I'm quickly interrupted.

"Bret, honey, believe me. If a guy wants to be with you, he will climb the tallest mountains, jump the widest rivers, and hike the hottest deserts just to be with you. And as much as I love you and your independence, can you please do us a favor and meet Duncan? It doesn't have to go anywhere, but when I told Kathy about you, she insisted the two of you meet."

Dad steps into the kitchen, a bright smile on his face, causing the conversation to lull. "Bretster!"

"Hi, Dad!" I greet him, stepping into his waiting arms.

"Did you know our daughter is seeing someone?" Mom asks as I let out a deep exhale. Having my dad on my back about this is not what I need right now.

Only a few more weeks, I repeat to myself .

Dad pulls back and stares down at me. "I haven't heard anything about my little girl having a new boyfriend. Hopefully, he's better than the last one."

I scrunch my nose as I outwardly cringe at his comment. Not because it isn't the truth, but just the mere mention of he-who-shall-not-be-named has my body on high alert. "Can we not do this today?"

"Sure, kiddo," Dad says, giving Mom a pointed look. A silent conversation passes through them. "Dinner looks to be ready. I was going to thank everyone for joining if you want to come outside."

I follow my parents through the back door for my first chance to escape since we arrived forty minutes ago. Sliding my phone out of my back pocket, I notice a waiting text from Crew.

Crew: Need me to rescue you?

Me: Not now, but I might need to take you up on that offer later.

Crew: Everything okay?

Me: Loaded question. But since we still have to keep things under wraps, my mom has arranged a blind date for me…today…

Crew: Oh, Rebel, this is going to be fun to watch *smirking emoji*

My mom's elbow gently nudges my arm, pulling my attention from my phone to where my dad stands.

"Good evening. On behalf of my wife and I, I would like to thank you for joining us for our annual Thanksgiving dinner. This is the sixth year we've hosted it, and each year, our attendance gets larger and larger. We are grateful for every one of you. There's plenty of food, so please, no one leaves here hungry."

I watch as my parents stand in front of their guests, smiles brimming, as they look like the perfect couple. I know their marriage isn't perfect, but they've been a great example of what love should look like for my brother and me, so I don't understand why my mom decided to force some guy onto me. The only thing I can think of is that this son of their so-called friend is a member of the boosters or a high-end donor to the football team. It's the only thing that makes logical sense. My parents have never inserted themselves in my dating life. In fact, I feel like it's always been the opposite, with them not wanting their "baby girl" to leave the nest.

I'm thankful that Crew understands and considers this night a joke. His own form of entertainment. Now, if only it were my joke.

Spinning around, Mom's voice has me pausing in my steps. It's too late to retreat to the safety of the tent where the food has been set out.

"Kathy, I'd love for you to meet my daughter, Bret." Mom points in my direction as if I wasn't obviously her daughter. "Bret, sweetie, this is Kathy, John, and their son, Duncan."

"You're really tall," Duncan blurts as he visibly takes in my height. He's a few inches shorter than me—even without heels, I'd still be taller than him.

"Thanks, I think." Taking his outstretched hand, our handshake feels more like a business greeting than anything that is supposed to feel semi-romantic. There are definitely no sparks that run straight through my body. My pulse and heartbeat stay at the same rhythm. There are absolutely no reactions to the man in front of me. Not like there are when Crew is simply in the same room as me .

"Why don't the two of you run along and fill your plates, get to know each other?" Kathy muses. Her eyes have stars in them as if she's just introduced her son to his future bride. News flash, Kathy, never going to happen.

With an outstretched hand, Duncan gestures for me to lead the way. I walk toward the food and throw a tight-lipped smile at Kathy and John. Hopefully, if I pile enough food on my plate, I'll be too busy eating to carry on any sort of conversation.

Long tables fill the inside of the large tent. Each table is decorated as if we were attending a wedding reception and not a Thanksgiving dinner. Cream tablecloths, vases of fall-shaded flowers, pumpkins, and scattered leaves run down the center over the top of a burlap runner. In the far corner is a line where the food is being served buffet style as people eagerly fill their plates with a medley of options: roasted turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, cornbread, and everything in between. My roommates are all gathered at the front of the line, no doubt being the first in line to make sure JP receives plenty of Mom's mashed potatoes.

My chest ached to be with them. To openly hold Crew's hand as we waited in line. Instead, I'm stuck with Dr. Boring.

Dr. Boring was, in fact, boring. The entire time I tried to eat, he shared detail after detail about his residency. News flash, Duncan. Nobody wants to listen to stories about bodily fluids at the dinner table—a holiday dinner, no less.

Wiping my face with the cream linen napkin that matched the tablecloth, I turn to Duncan and paste on a very fake smile. "If you could excuse me, I need to use the lady's room."

"Of course. Remind me when you come back to tell you about this patient I had this week who…" I don't allow him the chance to finish his sentence as I very rudely, but desperately, escape the table.

My eyes scan the tent and find my parents preoccupied with their table guests. Dad pulls at the collar of his shirt, no doubt ready to put on a T-shirt and kick his feet up for the night. A large screen plays the NFL game, which has captured the attention of most men. Seeing how everyone is occupied, I take the opportunity to sneak out of the tent.

The grass crunches beneath my heeled feet as I follow the path to the side of the house. Mentally crossing my fingers, I pray the side door is unlocked so I can sneak inside. Twisting the knob, I let out a sigh of relief when the door pushes open. Voices carry from the living room, where guests mingle, as I sneak up the back staircase. Reaching the top, I beeline down the hall to where my bedroom waits. Pushing open the door, the familiar room has a smile breaking free.

Dark gray walls filled with records and posters greet my eyes, and my shoulders sag at the familiar sight. The eggplant-colored bedding calls to me as I inhale the familiar scent, which resembles male cologne. I love that my mom continues to spray the room with the same bottle of cologne each time she dusts.

Trailing my fingers over the picture frames, my heart bursts at the memories. Pictures of Grant and I throughout our childhood, family pictures from traveling to different cities to watch Dad coach and frames of Liv and me in Arizona. Small fragments of time that have helped shape me .

A soft rap on the door has me glancing over my shoulder. My lips tip as I take in long, muscular legs hugged perfectly by denim, a brown plaid shirt button against a taut, muscular chest, light blond hair trimmed in a tight, stubbly beard, and chocolate-brown eyes that swirl with sparkling gold flecks.

"Hey, handsome."

"God, Rebel, I can't go another minute without touching you. Seeing you with that tool and being unable to claim you in front of our friends makes me want to go all caveman." Crew steps slowly into the room. His eyes scan the space, and I'd love to know the thoughts swirling around inside his brilliant mind.

With his front brushing my back, he reaches his arms around my waist, and I melt into his touch. His fingers trail over an image of me in a frame from my senior year of basketball. I'm standing tall and lanky with a basketball resting on my hip in the crook of my arm, my smile wide, my long, brownish-blond hair is in two braids, and I'm wearing my team's black and blue uniform.

"So this is teenage Bret."

I nod.

"She's cute. I totally would've been into her in high school."

Turning in his arms, I look at him as we are nearly eye to eye, thanks to my shoes. "Oh, she totally would have been into you."

He hums. "Is that so?"

With a terse nod, I lean forward, clutching his blond hair as he clutches me. I seal my lips against him as he moves his hands and grips my face. Everything about being alone with Crew Riggsby in my parents' home is risky. But I love the thrill of sneaking a boy into my room. Leading me backward, Crew moves us until the back of my knees hits my bed .

He groans as I press my body against his as he takes control. Before I can second guess anything, I'm losing control. It's as if I'm starved for Crew Riggsby. I can't get enough of him. He's the air my lungs are desperate to breathe. Tongues tangle as we explore each other's mouths. Chests heaving against each other, he grips my jaw as he consumes every inch of my greedy mouth.

Moisture gathers as arousal soaks through my panties, ruining them. An ache builds deep in my lower belly, and before I know it, I'm in his arms. My center hits his waist as I feel every inch of his growing erection. He thrusts deeper into my mouth before I pull away and kiss his neck. Fire builds as I feel how needy I am to come from his touch. If he keeps kissing me the way he is, I may come from that alone.

"Move to the bathroom," I mutter against his neck. He glances around before finding the door in the back and carrying me inside, setting me on the sink. A soft glow from the built-in nightlight cascades enough light to see each other without giving away our location. His lips are back on mine as his kiss fuels the ever-stoking fire.

"Crew," I rasp out between kisses. Those mocha eyes I love so much darken into a deep umber as the tension continues to swirl around us. In this moment, in this dark bathroom, it's only him and me. We're the only two souls in the universe. Two souls desperately searching for a place to call ours.

"If I'm going to watch you entertain another man, it's going to be after I make you come on my tongue."

Body vibrating with the need for more, I reach out and cup his hard cock through his pants. Moaning against my mouth, he gives my mouth a final exploration before he trails kisses down my throat as he thrusts his hips into my hand. His kisses turn carnal as he bites my exposed shoulder before dropping to his knees.

What is it with us and bathroom sinks ?

Unclasping my jeans, I lift my hips as he pulls the denim down my legs with my black lace thong. He pulls off my booties as he removes my jeans, leaving me wholly bared to him.

"I'll never get used to this fucking view." I stare down at the gigantic man as he takes in his view. His large frame should make him intimidating, but he's only ever shown me adoration, and he's never afraid to get on his knees for me.

Desire, love, and appreciation lace his eyes as he admires me. No one has never made me feel so seen, so worshipped, and so loved than Crew Riggsby.

Reaching up, Crew grips my ankle as he places open-mouthed kisses from my calf to my above my knee. His tongue licks a path up my thigh before swirling around my clit and capturing it between his teeth.

"Oh, god," I moan as the sensation feels so good. Sucking with fervor, he begins devouring me as my back arches and nearly forces me off the sink.

His chuckle is a welcome vibration against my center as he drapes an arm across my hips, holding me in place. With his free hand, he slips it beneath my sweater as he begins tweaking my nipple. The sensation builds as I feel the precipice closing in.

"You taste so perfect, Rebel." He licks down my center before plunging his tongue into my opening, his nose brushing my clit. "So fucking perfect."

With hard flicks of his tongue against my clit, he pinches my nipple, which has me nearly screaming my release. Head tilting toward the ceiling, I begin to chant indecipherable words as Crew keeps his pace before biting down on my clit.

Wave after endless wave of pleasure rolls through me as he sends white-hot pleasure coursing through my body. Slipping his hand from my boob down my stomach, his tongue continues to lap at my arousal as he draws the orgasm from my body.

"Look at me." His words are rough, strained. Chest heaving, I try to catch my breath as I meet his hooded gaze. "I love you, Bret."

"I love you, too." Crew stands and cups my face in his hands before leaving me with one last toe-curling kiss before stepping away. I stare at his erection pressing against his zipper and want to take care of him desperately, but time isn't on our side. Not that he would let me do that. The man is insatiable when it comes to getting me alone and devouring me.

Sliding off the counter, I bent down to slip my thong and jeans back on before doing the same with my shoes.

"I'm going to sneak out of here and head back downstairs. Are you good?"

"Yeah, I'm going to clean up in here. Maybe my supposed date has left."

He lets out a deep chuckle. "Don't count on it. He has googly eyes for you."

Rolling my eyes, I groan. "God, don't remind me."

With a parting wink, Crew leaves, and I'm left alone. Cleaning up the bathroom and fluffing my hair to make it look less manic, I spritz an air freshener to get the smell of orgasm out of the bathroom.

I make my way back to the party and dread the conversation I will be forced to endure.

This year, I have a lot to be thankful for. I am grateful for a fresh start away from drama and scars and for the friends who quickly became family. Without them, I do not doubt that I still would have worked on finding myself, but they've brought out a new side in me—a more unrestrained side.

And for that, I'll always be thankful for my year at Central Texas University.