Beautiful Player
Page 89
As feet tapped down the wooden stairs just to the side of the entryway, I looked up and met Liv’s bright green eyes. My stomach dropped a little.
There was no reason for me to let things be weird with Liv; I’d seen her a handful of times since we’d hooked up, most recently at Jensen’s wedding a few years ago, where we’d had a nice conversation about her job at a small commercial firm in Hanover. Her fiancé—now husband—had seemed nice. I’d walked away from the evening not thinking twice about where things stood with Liv of all people.
But that was because I hadn’t considered that our brief fling had meant anything to her, I hadn’t known she’d been heartsick when I returned to Yale after the Christmas holiday so many years ago. It was as if a huge chunk of my history with the Bergstrom family had been rewritten—with me as the flaky lothario—and now that I was here, I realized I hadn’t done anything to mentally prepare for it.
As I stood stiff as a statue, she walked up and hugged me. “Hey, Will.” I felt the press of her very pregnant belly against my stomach and she laughed, whispering, “Hug me, silly.”
I relaxed, wrapping my arms around her. “Hey yourself. I think it’s safe to say congratulations are in order?”
She stepped back, rubbing her stomach and smiling. “Thanks.” Amusement twinkled in her eyes and I remembered that Hanna had called her after our fight, and that Liv probably knew exactly what was going on with me and her little sister.
My stomach twisted back into a knot, but I pushed past it, forcing the weekend to not be peculiar on every level. “Are we expecting a boy or a girl?”
“It’s going to be a surprise,” she said. “Rob wants to know, but I don’t. And so that means, of course, that I win.” Laughing, she moved to the side to let her husband shake my hand.
We shared a few more pleasantries in the foyer; Hanna updated her mother and Liv on the latest news from graduate school, Rob and I spoke idly about the Knicks before Helena gestured to the kitchen. “I’m going to get back in there. Come on down for a cocktail after you’ve settled in a little.”
I grabbed our bags and followed Hanna up the stairs.
“Put Will in the yellow room,” Helena called.
“Was that my room before?” I asked, checking out Hanna’s perfect ass. She had always been slender, but the running was doing really great things for her curves.
“No, you were in the white guest room, the other one,” she said, and then turned to smile at me over her shoulder. “Not that I remember every detail of that summer or anything.”
I laughed and stepped past her into the bedroom that was meant to be mine for the night. “Where is your room?” The question came out before I’d really considered whether it was a good thing to ask, and certainly whether I’d checked to make sure no one else had followed us up here.
She looked back over her shoulder and then stepped inside, closing the door. “Two doors down.”
The space seemed to shrink, and we stood, staring at each other.
“Hey,” she whispered.
It was the first time since we left New York that I considered this might be a horrible idea. I was in love with Hanna. How would I be able to keep that from showing every time I looked at her?
“Hey,” I managed.
Tilting her head, she whispered, “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I scratched my neck. “Just . . . want to kiss you.”
She took a few steps closer until she could run her hands under my shirt and up my chest. I bent, pressing a single, chaste kiss to her mouth.
“But I shouldn’t,” I said against her lips when she came back for another.
“Probably not.” Her mouth moved over my chin, down my jaw, sucking, nibbling. Beneath my shirt, she scratched my chest with her fingernails, lightly sliding over my ni**les. In only seconds I was rigid, ready, felt the fever slide over my skin and dig down into my muscles.
“I won’t want to stop at just kissing,” I said, half-warning for her to stop, half-plea for her to keep going.
“We have a little time before everyone else gets here,” she said. She stepped back far enough to unbutton my jeans. “We could—”
I stilled her hands, the cautious side winning out. “Hanna. No way.”
“I’ll be quiet.”
“That isn’t the only issue I have with f**king you in your parents’ house—during daylight, no less. Didn’t we just have this conversation outside?”
“I know, I know. But what if this is the only time we’ll be alone together?” she asked with a smile. “Don’t you want to fool around with me here?”
There was no reason for me to let things be weird with Liv; I’d seen her a handful of times since we’d hooked up, most recently at Jensen’s wedding a few years ago, where we’d had a nice conversation about her job at a small commercial firm in Hanover. Her fiancé—now husband—had seemed nice. I’d walked away from the evening not thinking twice about where things stood with Liv of all people.
But that was because I hadn’t considered that our brief fling had meant anything to her, I hadn’t known she’d been heartsick when I returned to Yale after the Christmas holiday so many years ago. It was as if a huge chunk of my history with the Bergstrom family had been rewritten—with me as the flaky lothario—and now that I was here, I realized I hadn’t done anything to mentally prepare for it.
As I stood stiff as a statue, she walked up and hugged me. “Hey, Will.” I felt the press of her very pregnant belly against my stomach and she laughed, whispering, “Hug me, silly.”
I relaxed, wrapping my arms around her. “Hey yourself. I think it’s safe to say congratulations are in order?”
She stepped back, rubbing her stomach and smiling. “Thanks.” Amusement twinkled in her eyes and I remembered that Hanna had called her after our fight, and that Liv probably knew exactly what was going on with me and her little sister.
My stomach twisted back into a knot, but I pushed past it, forcing the weekend to not be peculiar on every level. “Are we expecting a boy or a girl?”
“It’s going to be a surprise,” she said. “Rob wants to know, but I don’t. And so that means, of course, that I win.” Laughing, she moved to the side to let her husband shake my hand.
We shared a few more pleasantries in the foyer; Hanna updated her mother and Liv on the latest news from graduate school, Rob and I spoke idly about the Knicks before Helena gestured to the kitchen. “I’m going to get back in there. Come on down for a cocktail after you’ve settled in a little.”
I grabbed our bags and followed Hanna up the stairs.
“Put Will in the yellow room,” Helena called.
“Was that my room before?” I asked, checking out Hanna’s perfect ass. She had always been slender, but the running was doing really great things for her curves.
“No, you were in the white guest room, the other one,” she said, and then turned to smile at me over her shoulder. “Not that I remember every detail of that summer or anything.”
I laughed and stepped past her into the bedroom that was meant to be mine for the night. “Where is your room?” The question came out before I’d really considered whether it was a good thing to ask, and certainly whether I’d checked to make sure no one else had followed us up here.
She looked back over her shoulder and then stepped inside, closing the door. “Two doors down.”
The space seemed to shrink, and we stood, staring at each other.
“Hey,” she whispered.
It was the first time since we left New York that I considered this might be a horrible idea. I was in love with Hanna. How would I be able to keep that from showing every time I looked at her?
“Hey,” I managed.
Tilting her head, she whispered, “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I scratched my neck. “Just . . . want to kiss you.”
She took a few steps closer until she could run her hands under my shirt and up my chest. I bent, pressing a single, chaste kiss to her mouth.
“But I shouldn’t,” I said against her lips when she came back for another.
“Probably not.” Her mouth moved over my chin, down my jaw, sucking, nibbling. Beneath my shirt, she scratched my chest with her fingernails, lightly sliding over my ni**les. In only seconds I was rigid, ready, felt the fever slide over my skin and dig down into my muscles.
“I won’t want to stop at just kissing,” I said, half-warning for her to stop, half-plea for her to keep going.
“We have a little time before everyone else gets here,” she said. She stepped back far enough to unbutton my jeans. “We could—”
I stilled her hands, the cautious side winning out. “Hanna. No way.”
“I’ll be quiet.”
“That isn’t the only issue I have with f**king you in your parents’ house—during daylight, no less. Didn’t we just have this conversation outside?”
“I know, I know. But what if this is the only time we’ll be alone together?” she asked with a smile. “Don’t you want to fool around with me here?”
