Page 79 of Blocked Score

“So, uh … what should we tell them?”

Lane looks down at me, and a knot of insecurity tightens in my chest. I try to ward it off, but I’m so used to thinking that Lane decided he didn’t want to be with me after all, that we were just a fun but forgettable fling for him, that I feel like a part of me is ready to experience the same thing all over again.

Part of me is scared to truly embrace the possibility that I finally have what I’ve wanted all along.

“Like, maybe we just keep things to ourselves for a while, if you want?” I continue. “Or, I don’t know, do a soft launch …”

Lane’s eyebrow tilts. “Soft launch?”

I nod my head. “Yeah. If you don’t want to shock our roommates by seeing us suddenly … together, out of nowhere.”I try to inject some humor into my explanation, but jitters of uncertainty betray me.

Lane keeps looking at me for a beat—before dipping down and scooping me up. My heart does a flipping thing in my chest at the sudden sensation of weightlessness in his arms, a feeling I associate so strongly with him.

With me in his arms, Lane opens the door and steps us both inside the house. Everyone’s here—Hudson and Summer, Tuck and Olivia, Rhys and Maddie, along with Sebastian—and they’re all hanging out in the kitchen, chatting with drinks in their hands.

Their conversation halts, and every pair of eyes in the house snaps to Lane holding me aloft.

Lane marches us right into the kitchen. No one speaks, still taken aback by our sudden intrusion in the most unexpected way. Once we’re right in the midst of the group, he sets me down.

Then he kisses me.

Without a word, right in the middle of his teammates and friends, he presses his lips to mine and kisses me deeply. It’s a breath-stealing kiss, a statement-making kiss, his lips stroking mine with firm pressure—possessivepressure.

My surroundings swirl out of focus. My eyes feather closed, and I let myself melt into him, surrendering to his lips as he slants his mouth to deepen our kiss.

My lips are swollen and tender in the best way when Lane pulls back. I open my eyes to find a drugged and sated look on his face.

“Fuck a soft launch,” he says.

There’s still a hushed silence as everyone keeps their eyes trained on us. Rhys is the one to break it when he says, “About fucking time.”

The rest of the night passes in the happiest whirlwind as everyone, especially the three girls, demands to know how this all happened.

My ex stole a year and a half from us, but nothing in the world can steal how good it feels to be with Lane right now.

39

LANE

“Come on, Captain, let’s go!”

I’m too distracted to even tell whose voice it is calling me from downstairs.

All I know is that Scarlett’s wearing my jersey, with shorts so short that they disappear beneath the hem, and it looks like she’s got nothing on underneath.

With this sight in front of me, even imagining the wrath Coach will inflict if I’m late isn’t enough to get my legs moving.

“Fuck, baby,” I rasp, almost whine, into the crown of Scarlett’s head as I stand in front of her, running my palms along her back and her waist, shaping her body underneath my billowy jersey, “don’t let me see you in this again if I have somewhere to be.”

It’s been a week since we found out the truth at the pool, and since then, I’ve been all in on making up for lost time.

And not just by kissing her as often as I can, burying my face between her thighs as often as I can, or making her pussy ripple in climax around my cock as often as I can; though, trust me, I’m doing a lot of that.

But even more, by sharing as many moments of affection with her as I can.

Grabbing her whenever she’s close and wrapping my arms around her, tugging her against me. Stealing kisses. Running my fingers through her hair. Surprising her on campus by sneaking up behind her and scooping her up in my arms. Sending her texts throughout the day, checking in on her or sharing a silly picture that I saw that made her think of one of our inside jokes.

We should have had a year and a half of this by now, but we didn’t. I’m trying not to dwell on the tragedy of that fact, but instead make up for it now that I can.

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