Pretty Little Thing (Central Valley U)

And don’t even get me started on the long nights I’ve spent wide awake the past week, jerking off to the thought of her in her tiny sleep shorts.

Typically, a night or two at ATF would be all the distraction I’d need, but we broke ground on a big project this week, and I’ve been too damn tired to do anything after work.

“You like her?” Samson asks when I never finish my train of thought.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “She’s making me fucking crazy.”

“They typically do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see.” Samson shakes his head as he huffs out a laugh through his nose. “What about your stripper?”

I groan and he smiles, like discussing my fucked-up love life is the most entertainment he’s had all week.

“Honestly, man? It’s all a mess. I’m just glad to spend time with family tonight…to get a break from it all.”

Samson doesn’t say a word. Not a single word.

“Where is Stella, anyway?”

He rubs both hands over his face as he drops his head onto the cushion behind him. “You’ll see.”

“Not so sure I like the sound of that,” I mumble to myself.

Samson barks out a laugh. “Not so sure it matters.”

Before I can question him any further, the sound of the front door opening stops me in my tracks.

“Mom,” Stella calls, already heading toward the kitchen. “We’re here!”

We’re here.

I glare at Samson. The fucker sat here and listened while I said I was grateful for a break, knowing good and well that Stella invited them to dinner.

“Oh, good,” Mom calls back. “I need a taste tester for my new cookie recipe.”

“Cookies?” I hear Maverick ask, his voice bubbling with excitement.

The sound of their footsteps grows closer, and even though Samson stands to join them, I remain seated with my eyes glued to my phone. Fuck this.

I wanted one night of peace, one night to get my head on straight, and here Frankie is. It’s like the universe is shoving her in my face over and over, and I’m honestly not quite sure what to do about it.

Or even if I should do anything about it.

Instead of being the bigger person and joining everyone, I sit and stew. How in the hell did my one night of relaxation end up so off course? I mean, is a little solitude really too much to ask for?

Apparently, it is, because not even two minutes later, Maverick launches himself onto my lap.

“Orion! I didn’t know you were here!” He hooks his arms around my neck and lays his head on my shoulder. “This is the best night ever.”

And just like that, my frustration melts away.

“Oh, yeah?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his middle.

“Yeah! I didn’t think I was gonna see you, but you’re here!”

My lips lift in an involuntary smile. “I’m here.”

He snuggles closer. “I missed you.”

Fuck.

I’m pretty sure my heart just shattered in my chest. This kid—he’s too much.

“Missed you, too,” I mumble into his hair, my voice more gruff than usual.

“Mama said you was working all week, and that’s why you weren’t home.”

“That’s right. It was a busy week, but I shouldn’t have to work as late this week.”

He pulls back and looks at me with hope filled eyes. “You’ll be home before I go to sleep?”

Another little piece of my heart just chipped off. “I’ll do my best, bud.”

“Okay, good.” He lays back down on my chest. “Mama comes home late when she works, too, but she wakes me up and snuggles me so I know she’s home. Maybe…maybe you could wake me up, too?”

Is he actually trying to kill me? He has to be.

“That’s…” I swallow roughly. “Um…that’s between you and your mom, okay?”

Maverick seems to think there’s no time like the present to ask his mom, because he scrambles out of my lap like his ass is on fire. “Mama!” he shouts as he hightails it back into the kitchen.

“Whoa, bud!” I jump up and take off after him.

“Inside voice,” Frankie murmurs, dropping down to her knees to intercept him. He flings himself into her arms, much the same way he did to me in the living room. “Orion said I gots to ask you if he can come tell me good night if I’m already asleep when he gets home. Can he? Please say yes!”

Frankie’s cheeks turn redder than the tomatoes Mom’s currently chopping for the salad. “Maverick!” Her eyes are the size of dinner plates. “What?”

“It’s just…you always tell me good night when you work late and I—”

“Can…can we talk about this later?” Frankie asks, an edge of hysteria to her voice.

Stella and Samson exchange a knowing glance while my mom stares me down, a million unspoken questions in her eyes.

“Dinner’s ready!” Mom announces. “Maverick, would you like to help Stella set the table?”

Frankie shoots her a grateful look.

“Set the table?” Maverick’s nose crinkles. “What’s that mean?”