Autumn grimaces, and my heart sinks. Slowly, a smile forms on her lips. “If I had an issue, I wouldn’t be here.” She leans in, and her hand cups my cheek. Our lips meet. Our kiss is gentle, yet there’s a sense of longing. Our mouths move slowly against each other’s as my arm finds purchase around her waist. Autumn presses her body to mine, and everything within me ignites with fire. I want her. I want to make her mine over and over again until I’m spent, and there is nothing left to give.
She angles her body to move us to the bed, and I put on the brakes. “I can’t,” I say against her lips. The word “practice” is muttered, but it’s incoherent. It takes great effort to pull away from her. Autumn opens her eyes slowly, and I can see the yearning. “I’m already late for practice,” I tell her. “I desperately want you right now, but I have to go.”
“Later, then?”
“The second you walk in tonight, you’re mine.”
“I suddenly hate that I’m on the evening news.”
We both laugh at her statement. As much as I love watching her on TV, I too hate that she works until almost midnight. “I’ll watch and fantasize about everything I get to do to you tonight.”
Autumn walks with me to the parking garage, where we proceed to make out like horny teenagers. The thought of being with her in the backseat of my car overwhelms my senses. I push her away. There are cameras watching us, and the last thing either of us needs is for security to hone in on the rocking SUV. Comical as it might be, the embarrassment would be too much for either of us. With one last kiss goodbye, I climb into my car and start thinking of the most disgusting things I can. It would not bode well for me to show up at the practice facility with a hard-on.
Thirty-Five
Autumn
For the first time ever, I hate my job. It’s raining, and it’s Sunday. In the world of football, these two things do not go hand-in-hand. On Friday, I promised clear skies for the game today. However, a shift in the weather pattern—that no one could predict—has the city of Portland under a constant drizzle. The rain cloud is content to hang over us all day, making for a very wet football game. Things probably wouldn’t be so bad if I weren’t dating the Pioneers wide receiver and planning to attend the game. Take those two things out of the equation, and you’d find me nestled on my couch, with a blanket over my legs and a good book in my hands.
Last night, instead of spending time with Julius and the kids, I gave myself a mini spa treatment. After a long soak in the tub, I did the whole self-care thing with an at-home mani and pedi, plucked, trimmed, and cut where needed, and put on the best mud mask I’ve ever used. I feel nights like this will be hard to come by once football is over. I’m not complaining at all, but I’m also unsure if I’m ready for the change. There is very little doubt in my mind that I’m in love with Julius. However, loving him means loving Reggie and Roxy, which is easy to do. I just don’t know what my role is or should be. With Roxy, things are simple. We’re already close, but Reggie—he’s going through a lot, and at eight, I can’t begin to comprehend how he must feel. He probably feels like his world is falling apart and doesn’t see that his father is doing everything he can to protect him.
I’m putting on the last of my cold-weather gear when there’s a knock at my door. I look through the peephole, and my heart jumps at the sight of two of my most favorite people. I open the door and squeal as I leap into my mother’s waiting arms. When she lets me go, my father welcomes me into his.
“What are you guys doing here?” Even though I was in Texas, I couldn’t see my parents. Leaving the approved area wasn’t allowed, and since I was technically on a job interview, I couldn’t go off on my own.
“We’re here to visit,” my dad says. I bring them into my apartment, and he sets their luggage down.
“Oh, sweetie, you have a view,” mom says as she goes to the slider.
“It’s not much, but I enjoy it.” I open the door, and she steps out. The balcony is only wide enough for a small chair and table. Unlike Peyton and Noah’s terrace or even Julius’s, I won’t be having any parties out here any time soon.
“Beautiful, but very cold.” Mom crosses, rubs her arms, and then heads back inside. I give my parents the tour. It’s small but homey, and I’ve done a lot to make it my own. When they finally settle on the couch, I ask again why they are here.