Sweet Home (Page 36)

I fought my need, stilling his hips with my hands, swiftly changing the subject to a safer topic, ignoring his sigh of protest. “What does the tattoo on your ribs say?”

“‘The greatest accomplishment is not in never falling, but in rising again when you fall.’ It’s Vince Lombardi.”

The words spoke to me as if they directly related to my life. I closed my eyes and watched the inspiring words circle through my head like a mantra. “It’s beautiful. This Vince Lombardi philosopher must be good. Why have I never heard of him?”

He chuckled and playfully tugged on the ends of my hair.

“What now?” I asked, exasperated.

“He was a football coach. A very famous football coach.”

“Oh. I really need to get up to speed on all things football.”

His hold tightened around my waist. “I’d like it if you didn’t. You’re not impressed by the hoopla that comes with me playin’ football and I never want you to be either. It’s better if you don’t know in depth what it all means to folks ‘round here.”

“You mean you really don’t want me to call you Bullet?” I teased.

“Fuck no.”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

“Sleep, Mol,” he repeated through clenched teeth, “or we’ll end up doing what makes me incredibly f**kin’ happy.”

I had to bite my lip to stop the soliciting moan threatening to burst free. “One more question, then I’ll sleep.”

He sighed. “One more. You’re pushin’ your luck.”

“Why One Day?”

He stiffened. I ran my finger over his hand and he relaxed, pressing a kiss on the top of my spine. “That I’d leave this place, one day. Be my own person, one day. Do what I want… one day,” he said so quietly I had to strain to hear.

Water filled my eyes at his heart-breaking answer. “Has it always been so bad for you?”

I gave up, settling into his strong arms.

After five minutes of worried thinking, I stated, “Romeo? I don’t want everyone to know about us yet. I want to keep our relationship to ourselves.”

He withdrew his arms from around my stomach and slowly rolled to sit on the side of the bed, dropping his head in his hands. “I get it. You’re embarrassed to be with me. Bullet, the aggressive, whorin’ QB—not boyfriend material, right? But good for a few f**ks in secret…”

I reached over, gripping his arm and nuzzling his back. “What? No! I… I’m just nervous!”

“Nervous of what?” He turned to face me, worried.

“Look, I’m not what you go for. I don’t look like the others—polished, perfect, twenty-twenty vision.” I caught the flash of amusement in his eyes. “Please can we just wait a bit longer before the whole campus finds out? For my sake? It’s going to take some adjustment on my part to be with you. I just need some time.”

He pressed his forehead to mine, lips tight. “I want to show everyone I’m with you now. I’m not f**kin’ hidin’ us, and I don’t give a shit what people think. As for my past, that’s not what I want with you. I want more. Don’t you get that by now? Christ!”

It still didn’t change anything. “Please. Just for a while. You’re Romeo Prince. Your… reputation scares me a little. Let’s just be us in private for a while, see how it goes without anyone else interfering.”

He released a loud, pissed-off sigh and shook his head. “Fuck, Mol!”

“Please.”

“Fine! We’ll keep it quiet… I don’t f**kin’ like it, but I’ll do it for you, even if the thought of us being a secret makes me wanna punch someone square in the face.”

I tsked and shook my head disapprovingly.

“What now?” he complained.

“You, swearing so bloody much. Do you have to use the F-word in every single sentence you say?”

“Fuck yeah,” he answered with a smug grin, pushing me down to the bed and pressing kisses all across my face. I squealed and took his hand, stopping the assault, wrapping it across my waist, forcing him to cuddle in behind me.

“And by the way, you won’t be hitting anyone anymore. I pacify you, remember?”

“Sleep! Do as you’re told for once, for both our sakes,” he said rigidly, and I closed my eyes, feeling safe wrapped in his strong embrace.

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