The Best Mistake Page 3

  And things escalated from there.

  Her hands were everywhere, my chest, shoulders, stomach, her hips pressed tight against mine. I couldn’t stop kissing her neck, her mouth, anywhere I could reach. It was like a game of give and take, but all I wanted to do was give her the best night of her life, so she’d want to have me back for another…and another. I never wanted her to forget my name.

  My hand traveled up her thigh until it was just beneath the hem of her dress.

  “This okay?” I asked between kisses, my fingers brushing against her upper thigh, waiting for the go ahead.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “Please.”

  It was the “please” that did it.

  My fingers traveled the rest of the way, under her skirt and up to find her core. She was wet already. Damn.

  I kissed her deeply, rubbing my thumb in a circular motion against her, slanting my mouth over hers, learning what she liked. Her eyes were shut, cheeks flushed, mouth parted slightly, and I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything more beautiful in my life. As she raised her hips to meet the movements of my hand, I nearly exploded. Leaning in, I placed another long kiss against her neck, my other hand supporting her back.

  “Oh,” she breathed as her movements became faster.

  “That’s right, Honor,” I said. “I’ve got you.”

  “I feel like…”

  “It’s okay,” I said again. “I’ve got you, baby.”

  She gripped my shoulders, one moving to my neck as she threw her head back. I’d never felt more like a man. Never felt more powerful than in that moment of giving her pleasure. Never felt more proud of myself as she suddenly tensed and stilled, her mouth dropping open. And then…

  “Oh Baylor!” she said as she came.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  My hand still between her legs, I froze. “What did you say?”

  “Hmm,” she said, eyes opening slowly as she came down from her high.

  But I knew what she’d said.

  I’d heard it loud and clear. My brother’s name. My freaking brother’s name, falling from her lips after a climax that I brought her to. Was this some kind of cruel joke?

  As if in answer, two seconds later, the door burst open and in walked my idiot brother with the two girls he’d been toying with downstairs.

  “Oh crap,” he said, coming to a halt just inside the doorway. “Sorry man, I forgot the room was in use.”

  As the girls giggled, Honor was mortified. She shot up off my lap, readjusted her dress and ran/hobbled from the room in her high heels, fleeing as fast as she could. The look she gave me over her shoulder as she left was anything but romantic. She regretted it. I could tell. If her disappearing act didn’t say enough, the look of horror mixed with humiliation on her face did. But I regretted it, too, just not for the same reasons.

  The name she’d shouted kept replaying on a loop in my head.

  “How many times have I told you?” Baylor said, shaking his finger at me. “The sock on the doorknob is a powerful tool, my friend.”

  My eyes shot daggers at Baylor as he kept talking.

  “Congrats though, my brother. It looks like you finally got some. She was a hot one, too, which makes me wonder why she chose you over me, but whatever. It’s cool. I guess you need love, too.”

  Thank God, he hadn’t heard, I thought.

  If he did, I’d never hear the end of it.

  “Can you give me a second?” I said, straightening up, trying to calm myself down.

  “No problem,” Baylor nodded. “I’ll just go use Chase’s room. It’s not like he’s up there anyway.”

  As the door shut and I was left alone, I couldn’t stop thinking about Honor and everything she’d said before shouting my brother’s name. It was all starting to make sense now. How she’d heard about me and my experience, my well-known rep with girls. So, she’d thought I was Baylor. She’d come here for my playboy brother, not me. The whole time, she’d thought I was him.

  I frowned, remembering that first kiss, how she’d felt like my missing piece, how we’d just fit. I wasn’t a romantic, but I knew that was a rare thing. Did it really matter that she’d thought I was someone else? It wasn’t Baylor who’d kissed her like that, I thought. It wasn’t Baylor who’d made her shiver. And it certainly wasn’t Baylor who’d made her come in such an earth-shattering way.

  Lying back on the bed, I pulled something from beneath my back and smiled. I’d never been so happy to see a book in my life. The inside flap read—

  This book belongs to: Honor Tierney.

  If lost, please give it a good home with lots of readerly love and no bent pages.

  Grinning, I placed the book on my chest.

  Honor had said she wanted a one-night stand, and if the way she’d ran out of here was anything to go by, she wasn’t expecting to see me again.

  Too bad I wasn’t Baylor.

  If I was, she might’ve been right.

  But if she thought I’d just let her go without a word when I knew how amazing she was, after an unforgettable night like that, she had another thing coming.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t call me last night,” Charlie said.

  “Charlie, can we talk later?” I said, walking as fast as I could. “I’m late for a meeting.”

  “No, you’re not. If I know you, you’re running at least ten minutes ahead.”

  Fifteen, I thought. But that was typically when I liked to be wherever I was going. The fact that I was still on my way meant I was behind schedule. I’d hated being late for things ever since I was a kid

  “Well, you know how Walter gets when one of us isn’t on time.”

  She scoffed. “That old coot? I don’t think he’d do anything. He looks like a pushover to me. Plus, aren’t you like his favorite?”

  “Yeah,” I said, passing through the doors of the Communications building. “He loves me because I actually try and write good stories—even though nobody reads them. But trust me, Walter is deceptively calculating. He once saw me eating a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit then had me attend a pig auction just so I could write an article from the pig’s POV.”

  “Sounds like a real ballbuster,” Charlie said, and I could tell she was rolling her eyes.

  I shrugged. “He’s a vegetarian. Put me off bacon for the rest of my life.”

  “But what happened after you went upstairs with O’Brien?” she said.

  Everything, I thought. And nothing I wanted to talk about. Good lord, how was I supposed to explain this to Charlie? She’d never had trouble with men. Guys would just roll over for her if she snapped her fingers. I was pretty sure Charlie had never tripped (twice) while trying to hook up with someone, let alone had that awkward moment at the end where his brother walked in on us. Ugh. The only saving grace was at least I’d never have to see Baylor or any of the O’Briens again. It was senior year. We’d never had any classes together, and I figured they were more into sports anyway. Southern University was a big place. The Omega Beta house was across campus from where I lived. There was a very good chance our paths wouldn’t cross again.

  I frowned. Why did I feel so down about that?

  “Hellooo,” Charlie said. “Honor, you still there?”

  “I’m here,” I said, stopping just outside the journalism room.

  “Well? You’ve got to tell me about your hot night with Baylor O’Brien. Are the legends true? Is he a master of the bedroom?”

  I closed my eyes, thinking about last night, how his kisses had set every part of me on fire, the way he’d touched me like he couldn’t get enough.

  “Yeah,” I sighed, “it’s all true.”

  Charlie whooped so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

  “I knew it!” she said. “I knew he was the one. How does it feel on your first day as a non-virgin?”

  “Well…technically,” I said, “I’m still a card-carrying member of the V-club.”

  “What? But I thought you said it was al
l true. I thought the two of you hooked up. Did he at least give you the O?”

  “He did,” I said, then lowered my voice. “But we didn’t have sex.”

  “Huh,” she said after a moment.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s just…you sounded so dreamy; I was sure you’d gotten some.”

  I sighed. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, I thought. But instead of Baylor simply taking me like I thought he would, his first priority seemed to be making me feel good—which in turn seemed to make him feel good. What kind of player does that?

  “Not to be weird or anything,” Charlie said, “but this is the first I’m hearing of anyone not sleeping with Baylor O’Brien.”

  “That is totally weird,” I said.

  “Sorry, but a guy like him doesn’t get that kind of rep for nothing. He supposedly goes through girls like water.”

  “You know that part didn’t really seem to fit.” My brow furrowed. “He didn’t seem like much of a player to me—besides his skills in the bedroom. He was thoughtful and sweet.”

  “Huh,” she said again, “if he was so good, then why stop? Did something happen?”

  “Not really.” I blushed, memories of the other night flashing through my mind: the moment when the door opened right after such an intimate act, how I tried my best to run away, hindered by Charlie’s dang stilettos, my last look at the first guy I’d actually felt a connection with—and that was before we’d done more than kiss.

  “Was it the virgin thing?” Charlie said. “I bet it was, right? Guys can be so weird about that sometimes.”

  “No, Charlie,” I hissed. “It wasn’t that, okay? It may have had something to do with his brother walking in on us. But to be honest, I’m not sure—”

  “Wait, wait,” she said, and I could hear the laughter in her voice. “Did you just say his brother walked in? While you guys were…oh my gosh, Honor! Why didn’t you say so before?” She howled. “That is priceless! Seriously, I can’t…I just…”

  I tapped my shoe, waiting on her.

  Charlie was laughing so hard. It sounded like she was gasping for breath.

  “Well golly gee,” I said, “I can’t imagine why I didn’t tell you, best friend. Especially when you’re having such a super reaction.”

  “Sorry, sorry,” Charlie said between laughs. “But can’t you see how hilarious this is?”

  “Hilarious,” I deadpanned, “scarred-for-life, whatever you want to call it.”

  Charlie tried to pull it together.

  “You finished?” I said.

  “Yes,” Charlie squeaked, obviously trying to hold back. “But can I ask you just one thing?” She was silent a beat then, “What did the brother say?”

  I thought back. “He said something about not knowing we were in there and putting a sock on the doorknob—which I didn’t really understand, sounds pretty gross, but whatever.”

  That set my best friend off again.

  I rolled my eyes as peels of laughter came through the phone.

  “This has been fun,” I said, “but I have to go now. Walter’s probably got a great assignment just waiting for me.”

  “He…you…sock,” was all she managed.

  “See you at home.”

  Hanging up, I shook my head.

  My attempt at a one-night stand had definitely been a bust. But, I thought, pushing through the door to the newsroom, at least I’d have those memories to look back on. Not all of them were bad. In fact, a lot of them were out-of-this-world spectacular. I’d had my one walk on the wild side. Now I could return back to my normal, boring life, writing for the campus newspaper, hanging at the library and watching Netflix in my pjs.

  And I’d never have to face O’Brien again.

  Which was a good thing, I told myself, even as a pair of gorgeous gray eyes flashed in my mind.

  “Honor,” Walter said as he spotted me, “there you are, girl! Ooh, I’ve got a winner for you this time, a story that’s sure to rescue this paper from the depths of oblivion.”

  I smiled. He said this every other week. “Sounds awesome, Walter.”

  “It sure is,” he said, his white whiskers all aquiver. “It’s a sports piece mixed with a human interest bent sure to please the masses. I really think it can save us. So, what do you say? Are you in?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Wonderful,” Walter said. “I’ve set up an interview for you at the end of the day. I’ll send you all the details then.”

  “Can’t wait,” I said. I was excited to get started. This was just what I needed to get my mind off of a certain pair of gray eyes. A new project sounded like the perfect distraction.

  This has to be a joke, I thought as I walked to the field.

  When Walter had mentioned something about sports, it hadn’t raised any red flags. I mean, how many sports teams were there on campus? There was soccer, football, basketball, volleyball, softball…basically everything under the sun with a ball was played here. Not that I followed any of them. But how was I supposed to know that Walter had arranged a meeting with the baseball team?

  Our school’s title-winning baseball team as it turns out.

  He’d sent me the basic info for the article in a text about ten minutes ago. That was around the time I started scanning the details which included players’ names and stats…at which point I started freaking out.

  Of all the sports in all the world, why did it have to be this one?

  Honestly, I got why it would make a great story. This was the first time in the school’s history that they’d had four brothers playing on the same team, and said team was in a good way to make it to the national championship (again) under the coaching of the mother of said boys. It doesn’t get much more news-worthy than that. But did it have to be these four brothers? And why did I have to be the one covering the story?

  Again, I thought for about the millionth time since getting that text. This had to be a joke.

  I almost tripped when I noticed the four O’Brien jerseys out there on the field.

  Geez, Honor, get a grip.

  That was all I needed. A busted ankle in addition to the utter embarrassment of last night. Luckily, I’d come incognito. The last time Baylor O’Brien had seen me I’d been dressed like a pin-up, my hair straightened, my face covered in makeup perfection (courtesy of Charlie). But today, I was back to my old self: baggy t-shirt, jeans, sneakers and my hair pulled back into a ponytail. With the addition of my ball cap and faux glasses, there was a good chance he wouldn’t even remember me.

  I mean, O’Brien supposedly had a revolving door of female companions. What were the chances that he’d recall one girl, even if she had been his clumsiest conquest?

  Standing on the sidelines, I stopped next to a big, burly man that looked important.

  “Excuse me,” I said, tapping him on the shoulder.

  He turned with a scowl, looked me up and down, and said (growled really), “You need something?”

  I swallowed. The tag on his shirt read, Assistant Coach Green, but I was thinking Grouch fit him better.

  “Yes, I’m sorry for interrupting your practice. My boss said he contacted you guys. Spoke to Coach O’Brien? I’m Honor from the campus newspaper, and—”

  “There’s a campus newspaper?” he said.

  “Yes,” I said. “The Howler.”

  He grunted. “Never heard of it.”

  I gave a mental sigh. Wasn’t the first time I’d heard that.

  “Well, I’m supposed to be interviewing someone from your team. Anyone would do really. How about we start with the second string or whatever you call it?” I said, hoping to avoid a certain someone. “I’ll try and be as quick as I can.”

  Without looking away from me, he blew a whistle then to my horror yelled, “O’Brien!”

  My eyes widened as I watched all action on the field cease. Suddenly, four heads turned to look our way. Rolling his eyes, the man said “
Captain! This girl wants to talk to you.”

  One of the broad shouldered players broke away from the group.

  As he got closer, I could make out the gold “C” on his jersey, the way his uniform fit him just right, tight enough across the chest and thighs to make a girl weak in the knees. I knew it was one of the O’Brien brothers from what Coach Grouch just shouted. But I found myself hoping it wouldn’t be him. My prayers went unanswered. A second later, he stopped in front of us, as gorgeous as last night as he readjusted his cap.

  “What’s up, Bear?” he said, eyes moving between me and the older man.

  He grunted again. “Got a reporter here. Didn’t think any of the other hooligans could string two coherent words together after last night.”

  O’Brien ran a hand across the back of his neck. “It wasn’t as bad as all that. I tried my best to keep them under control.”

  “And you did a great job—for the most part.” The man shook his head, hands on hips as he looked over the field. “Bay’s not looking so hot out there.”

  I felt my face fall. Bay? Did he mean Baylor? Why would he say that when…

  “Now that we’ve got reporters coming around, you want to tell your brother to clean up his act? Nobody’s gonna recruit him if they think he’s trouble.”

  “I know.” Those gray eyes were watching me as he responded. “We’ve had that discussion more times than I can count.”

  “I get it. Baylor O’Brien is a tough nut to crack,” Grouch said, confusing me further. “Worrying about that boy keeps me up at night—not to mention Dex. He’s on a whole other level. But you keep at it, Archer. If anyone can convince them to straighten up, it’s you.”

  Archer? My face paled. As in Archer O’Brien, the oldest brother of the O’Brien family, the guy who, according to Charlie, never breaks any rules, always wears a frown, and wouldn’t know how to have fun if it kicked him in the face. That Archer?

  “You just be glad Coach had an appointment and isn’t here to grill you. If she was, all of your asses would be toast.”

  “Yeah, I know, Bear. She raised me remember?”

  As if just realizing I was still there, Grouch said, “Listen girl, I’m fine with the interview, especially if Coach agreed to it.”