Page 45 of Filthy Player
“Sure.”
“You’re pretty irritating when you don’t listen to me.”
“I think you love it.”
Crazy thing was, I was beginning to think the same thing.
He set me on my feet once we were inside. “I’ve got a bag in the truck I’m going to go grab. Do what you need to do while I’m gone, okay?”
“Sure, Beaux.”
“You’re pretty beautiful when you listen to me.”
“Irritating,” I hissed, mindful my dad was lightly snoring from his spot on the recliner just down the hall and around the corner.
“Lovely.” He winked and kissed my nose before sauntering out to his truck.
While he was gone, I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a couple more pain pills and a fresh glass of water. After setting them on his side table, I rearranged the blanket and gently pressed my hand to his forehead.
He was warm, but not hot. He’d slept off and on the entire day, but hadn’t once complained about the pain in his leg. It would come though, and then my failing dad would act like it was nothing.
All to protect me.
I sighed as I kissed his cheek and whispered my good night to him. He didn’t twitch a single muscle and his breathing never faltered. The pain pills knocked him out cold.
It was then I knew Beaux was absolutely right.
It killed my dad I’d given up so much for him. He hated that he’d become my main focus. Reality was, there would come a day and he wouldn’t be here.
Down to the depths of my soul, I knew the only thing that would make him disappointed in me was if I lived a life that was only half alive, not taking hold of every opportunity thrown my way.
It would kill him quicker if I became something less than what he always wanted for me. Considering there was a guy nearby who could possibly help make my life happier, a little bit easier, Dad would want me to reach for it, hold it and grab onto it with both hands and never let go.
“I’ll do better, Dad. I promise.” I brushed a finger down his arm, reassured he was sleeping soundly and as pain-free as possible. I hurried back to the front door, reaching it the same time Beaux returned with a small black bag in his hand.
***
I woke up the next morning to the obnoxious beeping of my phone’s alarm and reached over, tapping the snooze button.
Stretching, I blinked the sleep from my eyes and catalogued a list as long as my arm of everything I needed to accomplish that day. Call me obsessive, but I enjoyed beginning my day making a to-do list. It woke me up, got me moving even if most days I wanted to curl back into the covers.
It wasn’t until I was on point five of my list—call a nursing agency for my dad for daytime help—an errant thought ran through my mind.
Last night, Beaux had shown up at my house and hadn’t left.
“What the heck?” I whispered and rolled to my side. On the opposite side of the bed, the sheets were a mess, thrown back and clearly showing someone had already climbed out of them.
When we’d come upstairs last night, we’d taken turns using the hall bathroom. When it was Beaux’s turn, I’d thrown on an old college T-shirt and a pair of yoga shorts, sleeping in way more than I usually did but I wasn’t giving Beaux any ideas, not with my dad directly below us, despite what Beaux had promised.
We’d climbed into bed, he’d curled me into his side and we’d talked about his game and all the traveling he did. Eventually both of us had drifted off to sleep.
It’d been sweet. Absolutely perfect. The best night I’d spent with a guy in a bed in a long time and that was pretty miraculous considering we hadn’t even made out.
But he hadn’t stayed.
My heart dropped in my stomach and I sat up, clenching the covers to my chest. I scanned the room looking for any sign of his presence, but the black bag Beaux had brought in and set inside the door to my bedroom was also gone. So was his suit.
Disappointment ate at me and I brushed back my hair, letting it fall to my neck, thinking. He had practice that day, I knew that, but he hadn’t mentioned having to leave early, and my alarm was set for six o’clock exactly. The sun was barely rising and he’d disappeared in the night.
