Keeping Score

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know about your little fan club.” She smirked slyly.

The wine tasted sweet. Not really my thing. “You saw them?”

“Who could miss those girls? Is it always like that?”

I thought I heard her voice change. She was jealous. “It’s the AFA. Women are part of it.”

“I see.”

I placed my glass on the table in front of me. It was there on my lips again—I wanted to tell her about Savannah’s assignment. I wanted her to know I took all of this seriously. Hell, I was trying to become a father. Something I never thought I wanted. And I sure as hell didn’t think I’d start with an eight-year-old.

“I think you need to know what the ground rules are as long as you’re staying here, baby.”

Her eyes flared. “Excuse me?”

“I have rules.”

She laughed. “Let me guess. Do they involve handcuffs or blindfolds?”

Damn, my cock twitched. “No, but that can certainly be arranged.”

She hit me in the shoulder. “What are these rules then?”

“Number one: when you’re here, you sleep in my bed. Number two: when in my bed, if I find a shred of clothes on you, I’m taking it off.” I saw her swallow hard. “Number three—”

“There’s more?”

I nodded. “Number three: I want you at all my games. Every single damn one. You understand?”

“Really?”

I chuckled. “You sound like Hunter.”

She blushed. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to say about any of this. It’s surreal. You. Me. Hunter.”

She didn’t know how fucking surreal it was. She had no damn clue.

“Number four: no other men.”

She blinked. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else, Hawk.”

“I didn’t say you are. But you won’t again.”

She gulped the wine. “And you?”

“Are you asking if any other women are going to be in that bed?”

She nodded slowly. “I saw them today. I couldn’t help but wonder. This is new. This is … what is this?”

“It’s us,” I answered.

“And the women?”

“Did you hear rules one through four?”

“Mmmhmm.”