We ate and I asked her a thousand questions about her mom and about living in Minneapolis. She missed her former home, and I was torn about how to feel about it. I still wanted to rip the dicks off the two guys who had done that shit to her, but I was also glad she was here with me now.
Now.
For now.
Shit.
I knew I needed to tell her about what Dad had said the night before, but my muscles were still really sore, and I felt like shit. I didn’t want to make it worse by talking about that crap on top of everything else, so I didn’t say anything about it.
We finished up the last of the picnic, and I helped her carry everything back to the kitchen to clean up and put everything away. I was covering up pretty well until she had me put a server tray away on a top shelf, and she heard me hiss as I reached up high.
“Are you okay?” Nicole asked.
“Um…sure!” I said. I gave her a half-smile and hoped she was going to buy it.
No such luck.
“Bullshit.” She put her hands on her hips.” What’s wrong with you?”
“Sore muscles,” I admitted. “No biggie.”
Nicole’s eyes darkened and her voice lowered.
“Did your dad…?”
“No, no,” I said, shaking my head. “Dad’s out of town for the next week. Really, I’m just a little sore from my workout.”
“A little sore?”
“Well, quite a bit, really.”
“Thomas,” Nicole sighed, exasperated. “Why didn’t you just call? We didn’t have to hang out today.”
“I didn’t want to skip it,” I said. I narrowed my eyes and looked toward the window. “I…I wanted to see you.”
She took a step closer, and I looked back at her as we both reached for each other’s hips. I leaned down and kissed her, totally not caring that she kind of tasted like brie and figs. I placed my forehead against hers and kept my eyes closed. My knees wobbled a little.
“You are falling asleep on your feet,” Nicole said. I couldn’t really argue, so I let her lead me over to the couch in the living room. “Lie down before you fall over.”
I couldn’t disagree with her as I dropped down onto the couch and dropped my head to the little pillow sitting up on the corner by the arm. I groaned. Something about lying down made the aches in my muscles more apparent. The backs of my legs were burning, and the pressure of the couch cushions under my shoulder was enough to make me cringe. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second and tried to force my muscles to do what I wanted them to do.
“I think you might have overdone it,” Nicole said as she watched me shift around and try to get into a comfortable position. “Do you need anything?”
“Just you,” I said. I stopped wiggling around and patted the cushion next to me. Nicole smiled and sat down on the edge of the couch. I put my arm around her waist, and she placed her hand on my shoulder.
“World Cup semifinals start soon,” she said as she pulled the remote off the coffee table in front of her and flipped on the television. “US Women’s team is playing today if you want to watch.”
“Okay,” I said with a yawn, “but you have to lie down with me.”
Nicole raised her eyebrows at me, but lay down with her back against my chest so I could slide my fingers over her belly and pull her close to me.
“So, do you have a thing for Heather Mitts like every other soccer guy does?” she asked.
“Nope,” I replied. “Hope Solo.”
She smacked my arm, but I just smirked, not really giving a fuck because I had Rumple’s warm little body spooned up against mine on a little bitty couch, so she had to be extra close. My arm was wrapped around her middle as I closed my eyes.
“Figures,” she mumbled. “Mitts is on the bench anyway.”