Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“I used to babysit him when he was twelve and I was eighteen.”
“Oh, yeah, gross,” Antonia says. “That’s a lot.”
“A lot a lot,” I agree.
As she pulls out onto the street, I turn to face the front of the vehicle, committed to leaving Parker behind me. After all, I can’t have a red-hot fling with the boy I used to babysit, even if he is fully grown and sexy as hell and has an excitingly filthy mouth.
Can I?
Chapter
Twenty-Four
GRAMMERCY
“Gee! Gee! Look what I made!”
Mimi’s face pops up in front of Elly’s on my phone screen, and that increasingly familiar rush of warmth fills my chest. Before Elly and I got together, I was sure I wanted to be a father someday—the kind of dad mine wasn’t, the kind that makes his babies feel seen and heard and loved—but I never imagined it would be this much fun.
Mimi’s been my sweet, wacky little buddy from day one.
Now, just three weeks in, I don’t like to imagine life without her.
“Whatcha got there, p’tite chou?” I shift, trying to get comfortable on the hard bench. The North Carolina visitors’ locker room is giving Seattle’s a run for its money in the postage-stamp size department, though the facilities are admittedly nicer.
Still, not an easy place to find a quiet spot to check in. Currently, I’m wedged in a corner by the water bottles, shoulder pads digging into my spine against the wall. In the rest of the room, the familiar pre-game chaos reigns, but I’m locked in on my girls.
And an excellent drawing of Princess Nutria in a hockey jersey.
“Woah, the princess is looking good in Voodoo gear,” I say, laughing as Mimi beams.
“I’m wearing mine, too. For good luck for you guys.” She stands up, pointing to her belly as she shows me the Voodoo jersey I bought her before the first game. “Now, Mama’s going to say hi,” she says, bending her face back to the screen. “I have to go make popcorn before the game starts. I can make it myself now! Mama got a stool in the kitchen so I can reach the microwave and practice being a chef like Makena. I’ll make you some when you get home.”
“Sounds good, baby girl,” I say. “Cheer extra loud so I can hear you in North Carolina.”
“I will!” She gives me a thumbs-up and scampers off.
And then it’s just Elly on the screen. Elly, in her Voodoo jersey and that pair of tiny black cotton shorts she likes to sleep in. My body responds instantly, the way it always does when I see some sexy part of my girl out for show and tell. And of course, every part of her is sexy. Even her crooked little pinkie toe does shit to me.
My stomach pulls tight, and my hands curl instinctively, itching to touch her, making my voice husky as I say, “Bonsoir, belle. Looking good in my number. And those little shorts.”
She grins, but there’s something in her eyes, something not quite right as she says, “Well, thank you. I put them on because it’s weirdly hot again today. But if they make your voice sound like that, I’ll wear them more often.”
“You should,” I agree. “Everything okay there? You good? Mimi feeling okay after her PT on Friday?” I had to leave for the game weekend early for the first Lava Energy shoot in Georgia and to do some pre-game press in North Carolina. Yesterday was so busy, I didn’t get the chance to check in properly. “I bought a couple of different kinds of balm, just in case. I figure it doesn’t hurt to try everything.”
“That’s sweet.” Elly’s gaze softens, but still not all the way. There’s still something…off. “But no, she’s doing okay. She was sore last night, but not nearly as bad. I’m fine, too, I just—” She pulls in a breath, her forehead furrowing. “You know that thing I’ve been trying to talk to you about, but we keep getting…distracted?”
My mind flashes to Thursday night, her trying to talk about something after we got Mimi tucked in, but both of us ending up in the shower instead.
Pushing away the memory of Elly’s breasts slick with soap beneath my hands, her ass pressing back against my erection like she couldn’t wait for me to fill her, I clear my throat and nod. “I do. Want to talk it through now? I have ten or fifteen minutes before Coach comes in.”
She shakes her head. “No, you should focus on the game. We can talk tomorrow when you get home. Your plane lands at nine?”
“Yeah, I should be home no later than ten. Want me to grab some of those messy egg sandwiches on the way home? We could have brunch and talk?”
She nods, seeming comforted by the plan. “That sounds great. I’ll make pain perdu and we can have some grown-up time.”