Colt soon leaves for the day, and while he’s gone, I sit in the living room and lose myself in my story for the next three hours. Just as I finish my next chapter, the front door opens and Colt walks in. I pull the AirPods out of my ears and put them on the coffee table. He walks to me, pulls me to my feet, and kisses me with a hunger I’ve only ever seen in movies or read about in books.
“My queen, my liege,” he whispers.
“How was practice?” I ask against his lips.
“Great. I didn’t think about you at all.” He picks me up bridal style and takes me to his bedroom. The apartment is quiet. Myra left about an hour ago after cooking several meals to last the entire day. A housekeeper came by to clean and do laundry.
When we get to his bedroom, he drops me on the bed and I bounce. We strip naked and he pulls me into his arms. His hand slides between my legs and two fingers find their way inside my wet pussy.
“I want to make love to you,” he whispers. He pulls his fingers out, leaving me feeling empty without his touch. He puts those fingers to my lips, and I suck on them greedily. “Are you on birth control?”
When I nod, he continues, “Can I slide inside of you bare, Queen?”
“You did our first time, remember?” He rests his forehead on mine.
“You distracted me so much, and you felt so good. I really want to be inside of you without a barrier from now on.” I can barely form a word. A nod and a whimper are all I can eek out.
Once I give him the okay, he flips us over and lands on top of me. He looms over me, looks directly into my eyes and slowly slides inside of me. I know it’s been years for him, probably since his wife died, but it’s been even longer for me. I sigh happily when he gets all the way inside of me.
* * *
“You better winbecause I don’t want to go to California. Just make sure you throw the ball into the round thing. Bend your knees or whatever. It’s not that hard,” I say to Colt when we arrive at the game together.
“Bend my knees or whatever,” he repeats. “I never thought of that.”
He goes with his team, and I take Evan to our seats. By the time we arrive, my sister and the rest of my family are there. Evan lets go of my hand and runs to Vincent.
This is the sixth game in the series, and the energy in the stadium is contagious. All of us sitting center court are wearing Colt’s jersey. I’m so nervous, I wrap my arm around Tara’s. If they lose, the team will fly to LA tonight, and I’ll fly there tomorrow. The lights in the stadium dim and the noise of the crowd grows quiet. The other team is called, and a few get booed by the crowd. The stadium’s noise level grows to deafening when the Mischiefs are called out. When Colt comes out, the crowd goes wild, including my sister who is busy yelling beside me.
“Did you do that to his hair?” she asks. Colt has his hair in neat cornrows.
“He was supposed to take it out before the game. He promised he would,” I yell over the crowd.
“It looks good on him,” she says.
His hair has gotten so long and curly, I threatened to braid it after waking up from our nap. He told me to go ahead, and an hour later, his hair was braided. We snapped a few selfies, and I told him to undo it, but I guess he never intended to.
Throughout the game, the jumbotron captures me several times. Each time I’m either talking to my sister, my dad, or Evan, who is less icy than before but not completely trusting yet.
The first half of the game is a blur, and Colt scores twenty-eight points. I forget all about hating the sport and follow him with my eyes. He seems to be weightless while he runs up and down the court. I don’t think he’s missed a shot. I’m in awe of his long arms and his ability to maneuver not just the ball but his body.
Despite the thousands of people in the stadium, I only see him. It’s not until I feel a little hand tapping me on my thigh that I look away and stare into Evan’s brown eyes.
“Hey, buddy,” I yell so that he can hear. “You okay?” He’s never sought me out before. He crooks his finger, asking me to come closer.
When I do, he whispers in my ear, “Can I have a soda?” He puts a finger to his lips, and I know he’s asking me to keep it a secret between us. I flag the server assigned to our section and ask for two Cokes. He smiles and gives me a high-five. When the drinks arrive, I give them to the boys, ignoring the narrowing of Ethan’s eyes.
The second quarter ends, leaving the Mischiefs ahead by twelve points. My eyes follow Colt as he leaves the court and retreats to the locker room with his teammates. The second half of the game flies by. When I watch at home with my dad, I always lament how unending the games are, but when you’re watching in real time, everything goes by so fast. The other team closes the gap and gets ahead by two points, but that only lasts as long as it takes Colt to make a three-point shot.
When the other team fouls the Mischiefs, they pick up two more free throw points. By the time the fourth quarter ends, the Mischiefs win by six points, declaring them the winner, and advancing them into the NBA Finals. Confetti falls from the ceiling, and the teammates all huddle in the middle of the court in victory. Family members of the team join them. Colt finds me and gestures for me to come forward. When Evan and Vincent start to approach him, I follow the boys and my sister and Ethan to the floor. My father and stepmother get there before me, and I lag behind them.
Colt picks up his son and gives Vincent a high five. Once he puts Evan down, he wraps his arms around my waist, and kisses me in the middle of the court.
“I’ve wanted to do this since you came to my first game.” I hug him back, for a moment, uncaring about the eyes watching us or the pictures being taken by onlookers. I wrap my arms around him and let him lift me off my feet.
“I have to do the press thing, but I want you in my bed tonight. I want the three of us to spend the day together tomorrow.”
I look into his eyes and run my fingers along the bits of exposed scalp. “I’ll get your dinner ready.” His smile widens, and I realize what I just said. “Did those words just come out of my mouth?” I do a gagging sound and he tightens his arms around me.
