“Nothing?” I said. “I agree. Nothing for now. I’m just going to enjoy my night with your father tomorrow. It could be my last for a while. I mean, I’m hoping not, but if he gets mad, or I get mad, which occasionally happens . . .”
I let my mind wander, picturing Bennett’s crooked smile and his brown eyes that could be heart-meltingly sweet or panty-meltingly wicked, depending on the day.
“It’s
just a temporary thing,” I said softly. “I don’t need a man to be my forever. You’re my forever.”
Bennett
The team bus stank like sweaty hockey gear and the egg rolls our goalie Shuck was eating. It was quiet as the end of our road trip approached. Everyone was either asleep or on their phone. For me, it was the latter, because I was too excited about seeing Charlotte to sleep. It didn’t matter that it was after eleven at night and my body was tired. My desire for her was more than just physical.
I was checking sports scores on ESPN when a text from my mom came in. She’d gotten the picture of Charlotte I sent.
Mom: She’s beautiful, honey. Dad and I are thrilled for you both. When can we meet her?
Me: Soon, I promise.
I saw a text I’d missed that was sent an hour ago from a phone number I didn’t recognize.
Unknown: Hey sexy, how r u?
Me: Hey, think you’ve got the wrong number.
Unknown: Is this Bennett?
Me: Yeah.
Unknown: It’s Michelle Harbor. We hooked up over the summer.
I thought back and remembered a woman I’d met right before my season started. We’d both been out with friends and had exchanged numbers and gotten together a few days later. But why was she texting me now?
Me: Oh yeah.
Unknown: So . . . you should come over.
Me: I’m seeing someone.
At least, in my mind I was. Charlotte and I didn’t have to be officially together for me to be devoted to her right now. She was the mother of my child. But for me, it went beyond that. I would have wanted her even if she weren’t pregnant. I had wanted her but she’d blown me off after our one night together.
I’d never thought of myself as a manwhore before meeting Charlotte, but I’d had my fair share of one-night stands. Curvy, thin, short, tall, blond, brunette . . . I’d never had a “type.” I’d enjoyed sex with women of all different body types, ages, and ethnicities. None of them had ever stuck with me like Charlotte, though. I’d craved sex many times, but this was the first time I’d craved just one woman. It made me feel like a caged animal—wound up and eager to pounce.
When we got back to Fenway, I tossed my bag of gear into Liam’s trunk and rode home with him.
“I’m leaving for the night when we get home,” I said.
“To go see the chick you’re not dating?”
“Maybe.”
He shook his head and shot me a dirty look. “Why are you being so coy about her?”
“I’m not being coy, douchebag.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“Guess you’re being coy about Keri, then.”
“You’re a prick,” he muttered. “And your ass better not leave without cleaning up that mess you left in the kitchen.”