Hush - Complete Series by Amanda Maxlyn
Figures.
I sink down into the bed. A light shiver moves through me.
“How the hell did he know my name?” I ask myself bewilderedly. I never once offered it to him, enjoying the mystery between us at first. I’ve never seen Trey before tonight, and him rushing away from me only confuses me more. I run the memory of his face through my mind, trying to place where I might have seen him before, but nothing comes. A man like him stays with you.
Tugging the covers over my head, I let out a muffled scream in frustration, followed by a sigh. I lie in his bed for another beat and then throw the covers off me and to the floor. Moving hastily, I get dressed and locate my purse to take out my phone. Seeing as Trey offered to take me home, Ali didn’t leave me her car keys, so I’m now stranded. I call my sister as I take the steps down to the now quiet living room. When Brooke doesn’t answer, I try Ali, but it goes straight to voicemail. Once I reach the bottom step I scan the room. It’s not that I expect to see Trey standing there in all his gloriousness, but I can’t help but look for his tall stature. I’m not sure what I’m hoping to achieve by looking for him. Yell at him? Slap him? Make him tell me how he knows me? Run my hands through his hair and kiss his soft lips? Demand he takes me back up into his bedroom and fuck me? Shaking my head, I head toward the front door and dial Brooke’s number one more time.
Again, no answer.
Trey’s SUV is still parked out front, so I know he’s here somewhere. The temperature is certainly cooler and I wish I brought a light jacket tonight, or at least grabbed Trey’s sweatshirt off his floor before leaving his room. I walk to the porch and to the back deck to see if I by chance recognize anyone. I know I won’t, but I still check. I do a full circle, wondering if Trey will come out from the shadows and explain this entire fucked up Twilight Zone episode to me.
But he doesn’t.
Taking a deep breath, I hold my pride and head back inside, hoping to find at least one sober person to give me a ride home, or at least the address to this place so I can call a cab.
***
I wake up to light peeking through my drawn shades. I rub the sleep from my eyes, hoping to wipe away the memories of last night and the image of Trey. When I got home in the early hours, Ali’s bedroom door was open with her bed empty. Brooke’s door was closed, so I assumed she had company, or was still out.
Once my eyes can see clearly, I locate my phone on the nightstand. 2:06 p.m. Shit. I slept all afternoon and have swim practice at four. With our coach out on maternity leave sooner than expected, the assistant coach offered to run a special swim practice before the new coach’s start day on Monday.
In the shower, I let the hot water run down my body, and I begin to scrub away the embarrassment of last night. Images of Trey’s face cloud my thoughts. I’m sucked right back into recollections of our evening together. The way his lips took my nipple into his mouth, his feather-like touch setting my skin on fire, his tongue flicking against my clit and my body quaking around his fingers.
I lick my swollen lips and close my eyes at the thought of Trey sucking them.
My face flushes under the stream. How can one man make me so mad for leaving me stranded, yet, at the same time, the simple thought of him kissing and touching me makes me want to touch myself?
Running my hands down my thighs, I can still feel the marks he left on my body. A light moan slips out and my eyes pop back open. I splash the water over my face, letting it wash away the memories. Maybe this was all for the best? There’s no room for romance with my busy schedule. With love comes complications. I don’t need any more complications in my life. I admit the truth graciously. It doesn’t matter how Trey knows who I am. What matters now is that I won’t ever see him again.
Once I’m dressed and have my swim bag packed, I take the steps two at a time downstairs to find Brooke standing in the kitchen holding an empty cookie sheet with an oven mitt, with Ali sitting at the center island. The tall vase I unpacked yesterday is now filled with fresh flowers, a candle is lit on the stove, and the entire main living space smells of chocolate and cookie dough.
“You’re baking?” I ask, stunned.
Brooke flashes me a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She looks like she didn’t sleep well, with dark circles under her eyes. Her hair is neatly brushed, but her face is cold.
“Is everything okay?”
She nods and flashes me the biggest “I’m lying” smile.
“Brooke,” I say, encouraging her to answer me, but she doesn’t.
“What are you doing here?” Ali swings her body on the stool so she’s facing me. “I honestly didn’t think you were home.”
I roll my eyes. “Wow, thanks. Good to know I’m easy to forget.”
She laughs, reaching a hand out to me. “No, no. That’s not what I meant. I just figured how I left you last night, and not seeing you this morning, that you were out.” She wiggles her eyebrows as she drags out the word.
Brooke looks between us. Suddenly her demeanor changes from somber to curious. “What are you talking about? How did you leave her?”
I walk over to the cookies that are cooling off on the counter and take a bite of one. “Since when do you bake?” I ask, holding the cookie up, examining it. It looks like a real cookie and tastes pretty amazing, too.
Brooke rolls her eyes and laughs.
“Don’t change the subject,” Ali warns.
Sighing, I lean forward so my elbows are on the counter. “I had the most intense orgasm of my life, and then…” I trail off, waving the cookie in the air.
“And then…” Ali nudges.
“You hooked up with a guy?” Brooke blurts out.
I shrug. It’s half true. We didn’t go all the way, but I don’t feel like explaining myself right now. Regardless, I’m certain she’s about to fall over in surprise.
“I knew it!” Ali shrieks.
“So, tell us. Who was it? How was it? Are you going to see him again?” Brooke spits out a million questions.
I stand up and head to the fridge. Grabbing a water bottle, I take a sip to coat my dry throat. I contemplate my next thought. They’re both waiting patiently for me to continue, ears perked, eyes lit, grinning in a way that look like it may hurt. I’m about to continue with the story and tell them all about how he knew my name and then ran off with me still naked in his bed, but I refrain from telling them any of it. I don’t do this. I don’t sit around and talk boys with my sister and Ali. I’ve had boyfriends, yes, but I’m not one to kiss and tell, and considering they both know I don’t really do the hook-up thing, they’re even more intrigued about my sex life in this very moment. Seeing them both sitting in front of me, hanging onto my every move, the last thing I want is for them to take more pity on me after the day I had yesterday once they find out what happened last night. So I don’t tell them. Instead, I say, “He was just a random guy at the party—a friend of a friend, passing through town. I won’t be seeing him again.”
It’s not a lie. He’s some random guy from Michigan, and I won’t be seeing him again. Trey made that clear.
Ali’s face falls. “Not you too?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Me too?”
“First your sister, now you.”
I look over at Brooke, who adds another baking sheet to the oven. “I told you, Ali, it will all work out.” When she looks at me, she gives me a “don’t worry about it” smile and shrugs.
“What’s going on?” I look between Ali and Brooke.
Brooke sighs. “Ali is just exaggerating.”
“No, I’m not,” she interrupts. “The man broke up with you, Brooke, and you’re over here baking cookies for him!”
I whip my head around to Brooke. “What?”
Brooke clears her throat. “The night started off great. We were laughing in the car and he even held my hand walking into my favorite Mexican restaurant. He was super sweet, but then, the next thing I know, he’s telling me he wants to take some time apart. Things were
I look at the two-dozen cookies cooling off in front of me. “So you’re making him break-up cookies?”
Ali snickers.
“No, smart ass. I invited him over.”
I tilt my head to the side. “I’m confused. If he broke up with you, why is he coming over?”
“Because I texted and called him until he agreed to come over and talk.” Yup, stage-five clinger.
Ali leans over the counter and grabs a cookie. “I’m glad you’re awake, Em. Now you get to sit with me, eat these warm cookies, and watch the show play out. Best part, it’s live. That’s even better than some recorded ShondaLand show you have saved.”
“Very funny, Ali.” Brooke purses her lips. “I know I’ve broken all the rules, but I was so confused last night. I still am! He didn’t give me time to digest it at the restaurant. I tried to text and call when I got home, but he didn’t answer. He called me back this morning and said he really needed to talk to me. I think he’s going to tell me he made a mistake.” She sounds hopeful. My poor, clueless sister.
“Or he wants a restraining order,” Ali offers as an alternative.
Brooke mumbles something and I take that as my cue to leave.
“Well, ladies, while this is all wildly entertaining, I’m off to swim practice.”
Ali grabs another cookie and heads up to her room. “Don’t start the show, Brooke, until I come back!”
Brooke sighs.
Just as I slip my swim bag over my shoulder, there’s a knock at the door.
“That’s him!” Brooke practically jumps out of her chair. “I’ll get it.”
It’s too late. I swing the door open and right there, standing before me in a ball cap, jeans, and a T-shirt, is Trey. Just like last night, I’m sucked in, unable to look anywhere else but at him.
Holy shit.
“Trey?” I choke on his name. Is this real?
Trey grabs a hold of the door frame, steadying himself. His eyes look like they’re about to fall out of his skull. But his lips look just as soft as last night, and I’m not sure if I want to push him against the wall and salvage them or smack them right off his face for last night.
“Emma,” he breathes.
“Trey! Thanks for coming over,” Brooke beams as she comes to stand next to me. “Trey, I’d like you to meet Emma, my sister. Em, I’d like you to meet the new swim coach.”
Oh, fuck.
Book Two
“I’m sorry, but do you two already know each other?” Brooke’s words fracture my thoughts and bring me back to Earth. She’s moving her head back and forth between us, pointing.
Trey’s eyes are unmoving. Mine narrow in.
Trey clears his throat, offering me a smile. “No, I don’t believe we’ve met.” He holds his hand out. “I’m Trey Evans. It’s nice to meet you.”
Evans. The last name fits him, too. I guess I was wrong for placing him in the corporate world.
I look over at Brooke then Trey. I can’t think. This is the guy Brooke has been dating? She’s the girl he broke up with last night? My head is foggy. My eyes bounce from his hand to his face.
“Emma?” Brooke nudges. I look at her and see she’s motioning to Trey’s hand.
I don’t take it.
Brooke sways next to me, and lets out a heavy sigh. “Emma, Trey is a transfer from Michigan to fill the new head coach position while Coach Stephens is out on leave. He was the assistant coach at a university back in Michigan.”
My eyes water and I’m ashamed for either of them to see. I pass my tears off as frustration toward my sister. “So, you’re what? Dating the faculty now?”
I’m hurt, embarrassed and frustrated at this entire situation.
“I didn’t want you two to meet like this, Em.” Her voice is soft.
My breathing picks up and my head spins as I try to piece this all together. When it rains, it pours.
I look back up at Trey. Coach Evans. It’s all starting to make sense. The way he acted when he found out I was a swimmer, him telling me he liked the water, too, and the three swim magazines on his desk. There’s no way I could have known he was a coach, but small signs were present. I should have asked more questions.
“We met this summer when he came for a tour. I took him out. We stayed in touch, and when he moved here we started dating. I didn’t want things to become uncomfortable between you and me, with him being the new head swim coach, so I didn’t tell you or Ali about it.” Brooke’s comforting voice sounds just like our mother’s when she’s trying to cheer one of us up.
“Emma.” Trey takes a cautious step forward, his hands slightly raised in a defensive stance. His shoulders slump forward when I back away abruptly.
I put a hand up, stopping him. “Coach Evans,” I hiss. “While I’d love to stay and chat and watch you rekindle your romance with my sister, I have a swim team that’s waiting for me.”
Aggressively pushing past Brooke, I slam into Trey’s shoulder, causing him to fall off balance. I run down the steps of our two-story townhouse and hear him mumble something to Brooke, but don’t stop to listen.
I’m not even to the bottom step when the tears begin to soak my cheeks. They’re not tears of sadness heartbreak over a man, they’re tears of pure embarrassment. These last two days have been too much, each event trying to top the other. I can’t take any more surprises.
I brush the tears away angrily.
Just as I’m reaching for the door handle of my car, Trey’s hand lands on top of it, closing the door.
“What?” I snap.
“Emma, please let me explain.” I look up at him and see the hurt behind his eyes. “Last night…”
I hold a hand up. I catch my sister watching us from the top step. Looking back at Trey, I keep my voice low. “I won’t say anything. Just go, please.”
His hand comes up to caress my face, but stops a mere inch away. His fingers twitch in hesitation. I see the tug of war in his eyes. His hand drops to his side. He lets out a small sigh in frustration.
I step back, needing to put space between us. Even though I just found out he’s my coach, I’m still completely attracted to him. The magnetic pull is still present and if I don’t put the distance there, I’m not sure what will happen.
“I didn’t know who you were. And then—when the mask was off and I saw your eyes. The view of your entire face. Jesus, Emma,” he hisses, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes plead with mine for understanding. “I was surprised. I wasn’t expecting—well, you!” He raises his hands in defeat.
“How did you know who I was? You haven’t even met the team yet.” I glare up at him.
He runs his hand down his face. “The roster. I have every team member’s picture, stats, swim tapes and transcripts. How come you didn’t tell me you were a college student when we were talking?”
I scoff. “So this is my fault?”
“No! That’s not what I meant.”
“Trey?” Brooke calls. “Everything okay?”
He looks back and holds up his pointer finger. “Just a minute.”
“You better go. She’s already curious. You don’t want her to raise suspicion, and I have to get to practice. See you around, Coach.”
“Emma, please. We need to talk about this.” He reaches for my arm. “I knew I would eventually run into you, but—fuck,” he stumbles upon his words. “I wasn’t prepared for this. I thought I’d have more time to figure this all out. Let me at least give you a ride to practice so we can talk about this.”
Right. That’s why he came running back to my sister, because he was so concerned about me. Frustrated, I look away and down the street. It’s about a twenty-minute walk from my place to the campus, so I know I’ll be late, but at this point I don’t care. I welcome the extra time to clear my head.
I don’t look back as I turn and walk away from Trey Evans.
My sister’s ex.
My swim coach.
***
The girls are spread out in the Olympic-sized pool. Some are sitting on the edge with timers, timing two girls doing a backstroke race, while others huddle in a small group working on stretching exercises. Assistant Coach Johnson is kneeling beside the pool talking to Erin, one of the girls I do the 4x100 medley relay race with. Erin looks up and notices me, giving me an enthusiastic wave.
I grin in return and walk toward the edge of the pool. Making sure my loose strands are tucked securely under my tight yellow swim cap, I maneuver my goggles down over my eyes in preparation to dive in.
“You’re late,” Coach Johnson barks from across the pool, causing me to halt.
“She’s with me.” I know that voice. Deep, throaty, and sexy as fuck.
I turn around and scowl at Trey. I know he can’t see my eyes under my goggles, but I do it anyways. “No, I’m not.” I shake my head, annoyed.
Coach Johnson stands up in surprise and begins to walk toward us.
Trey takes a few long strides toward me. He looks different from when I left him. Any shock, sadness, or hurt that I might have seen at my house is gone. Walking toward me is a man of confidence and authority. The man I met last night.
“Trust me, you’ll want to be with me.” His voice is low enough that only I can hear.
I’m not sure if there’s a double meaning behind his choice of words, but I toss them aside.
I take as much of a step back as I can without falling into the pool. “No, I won’t.”
“Fine.” Trey steps around me and walks toward the center of the aquatic center. “Emma Peters, you’re late. Swim laps until I say stop.” His voice is loud and it gets the attention of the entire swim team, even Coach Johnson who stops in his tracks.