“Babe, there’s going to be more than sleepovers. I’m going to be in your bed. In a hotel or at home.” I lean down to kiss her lips before she can argue with me, wanting to go slow, but I can’t. The minute I taste her, I can’t stop. Her legs open, wrapping around my waist, locking at the ankle. I rest my weight on my elbows so I don’t squash her. My tongue twirls with hers. Her hands now go through my hair, then she arches her back up, rubbing her pussy against my cock, which is straining.
Once I know I’ve kissed her silly, I slowly peel my lips from hers, kissing the side of her mouth, to her chin, to her neck, up to nip at her ear. “Now that I’ve got you breathless, I want you to listen.” I run soft kisses on her chin. “You listening?” I ask her.
She nods.
“This, me, you. It’s happening. I’m going to kiss you,” I tell her, running my tongue out while I kiss her neck. “I’m going to come home and come to your bed. Or you can come to mine, but”—I kiss her lips again—“make no mistake about it. This thing is happening.” The blue in her eyes becomes clear again.
“Matthew”—her hands rub my back—“we can’t do this.” Her voice is soft. “Can you imagine what they would say if they found out?”
“So we keep it quiet till we decide to tell people. Tell me you get that this is happening.”
“Matthew,” she groans out.
“Babe.” I stop her. “I need a nap,” I tell her, rolling to my side and taking her with me.
“Ma—”
I put my hand to her lips. “Shh. Let’s rest. Yeah.” And I close my eyes, pretending I’m going to sleep, but knowing she’s glaring at me with death in her eyes. Opening one eye, I spot the look I thought she had on. Yup, dead.
“You’re beautiful.” Is the last thing I say before I close my eyes again. We both fall into a nap.
I’m about to put my suit jacket on when my phone rings beside the sink. I’m in my bathroom because all my stuff is here, but next time, I laugh to myself, thinking she’s going to throw my shit out. I’m pretty sure. When I see it’s my mom I answer right away.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, packing up my stuff since we are going straight home from the game.
“Hey, sweetheart, you did so good,” she tells me, and I can hear the smile on her face.
“Yeah, I’m actually feeling really, really good.”
“You played a really good game last night. You ready for tonight?”
I throw my stuff in my bag, zipping it up. “Yeah, I had practice with the guys today. I like the team, like the dynamic. I’m just happy to have the chance.”
“That sounds so promising.” I hear her voice go off.
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t want to get involved and Cooper told me to mind my business, but your father called me.”
I stop what I’m doing and look up at the ceiling, closing my eyes. I haven’t spoken to my father in five years. The minute Mom had Zoe and Zara, he upped himself and moved out of state. The daily phone calls went to weekly, to bi-weekly, to monthly, to just a fucking text on my birthday. I won’t even go into the shit he pulled before Mom and him got divorced. He was never really there anyway. Where all my friends would go to the rink with their dads, mine would be working. Traveling. I can count on my hand the amount of times he actually got off his ass and took me to practice.
My mother, that was who raised me. That was who gave up everything for me and Allison. Till Cooper came, then he showed me what it was to actually have a family. To actually come home to a family who did things together and that didn’t just co-exist.
“He said he texted you a couple of times,” she says softly.
“A text, seriously?” I shake my head. “When I got sent down to the minors, he sent me a text with one word ‘nice,’” I tell her, something she didn’t know because I didn’t want to make her go and kick his ass.
“I didn’t know,” she says quietly.
“Because he’s a douchebag. When’s the last time he actually picked up the phone and called Allison?” I ask her, my voice getting louder. “When is the last time he actually took time out of his day for his children?” I slam my suitcase shut. “I can tell you, a long fucking time ago. I think I was maybe ten. He has no right to involve you in this shit. But you know what?” I laugh to myself. “That’s just the type of person he is. Notice I didn’t say man, Mom, because he isn’t.”