The Endgame Is You (Rixon Raiders #4) - L A Cotton Page 0,31
out a long breath, running a hand down his face. “He said some things.”
“Shit, man, I didn’t realize.” Xander was almost seven and he adored his older brother to the point where he struggled with Cam being away so much.
“It’s just hard, ya know? I want to be there for him, but I’m not always going to be around.”
“It’s not your fault.” Hailee rubbed his arm.
“Sorry for being a dick.” I apologized.
“Nah, it’s not you, it’s me,” he murmured.
Being an only child, I didn’t get what it felt like to carry the responsibility of a sibling, especially a little kid who had already been through so much.
He still had nightmares about his mom being sick, even though everyone thought he was too young to remember. I’d only seen Xander a handful of times since we graduated, but the last time I’d seen the little guy, he’d seemed lost. Wearing a vacant look, he’d barely smiled unless his big brother was giving him his full attention.
I knew Cameron carried a lot of guilt over leaving. His heart torn between the girl he loved and the little brother he wanted to protect.
“But your mom is okay, right?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. But she and my dad are both at a loss about what to do with him. He’s so... different.”
“He’ll be okay,” Hailee said. “As soon as we can, we’ll bring him out to Michigan and show him the sights again.”
Cameron leaned down and kissed her. “Thank you.”
“Are you excited about classes, Mya?” Flick asked, changing the subject to safer shores.
“I can’t freakin’ wait. Although I wish it was senior year so I could jump into field practice.”
“I’m not going to lie, I’m a little scared about clinical practice.”
“Nah, babe.” Jason hooked his arm around Felicity. “You’ve got this.”
“And hey, at least tutor boy will be around to help you if things get too much.” I smirked and Jase flipped me off.
“Really, you went there?” A low growl rumbled in his chest.
“Joke. I’m joking.”
“Yeah, well it doesn’t matter,” Felicity said. “Darcy graduated. He’s no longer at Penn.”
“Thank fuck,” Jason murmured, and she elbowed him in the ribs.
“Without Darcy I probably would have flunked my classes.”
“You would have figured it out.”
The two of them started bickering quietly while the rest of us watched the flames lick the inky sky. There was something about ending the summer with your girl and best friends and stepping into a new year. It was a tradition we’d started the summer before college. One I intended on keeping. We may have had less and less time for one another now we were all at college, but when we came together it was like no time had passed.
“What are you thinking?” Mya brushed the hair from my eyes.
“Just how perfect this is.”
“Another year,” she sighed.
“Another year closer to the rest of our lives together.”
“Ash...”
“I know. No rush, right?” I touched my head to hers.
“We have time.” Mya brushed her lips over mine and I was a goner.
There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for this girl. If she wanted time, I’d give it to her.
So long as she knew she was my forever.
“God, Asher, it’s—”
“Fuck, babe, I know.” I thrust up inside Mya again, curling my hand around her hip, encouraging her to ride me harder… Faster… Deeper.
“You feel incredible.” Leaning up on my elbows, I took one of her perfect tits in my hand and flicked my tongue over the dusky bud. Mya cried out, throwing her head back as I sucked and laved, teasing her sensitive skin with my teeth.
I wanted to mark her, to brand her permanently as mine. I’d never been a possessive asshole, at least not like Jason... until Mya came along.
I couldn’t explain my need to possess and consume her. I wanted her tied to me in every way possible.
Heart, mind, body, and soul.
I guess you could say I was a lot to handle. But Mya loved me. She loved our life together. And we openly talked about the future.
“Fuck.” She ground her hips slower, rocking in tortuous circles, making my body tremble with pleasure. “Fuuuuck.”
Mya smirked, aware of the power she held over me. I’d gladly handed over my balls to her when I’d chosen Temple—chosen her—over my place at Pittsburgh. But I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
When you’d grown up under the stifling expectations of my father, having something—someone—to call your own, to love and cherish and worship... well, it was a rare thing of beauty.