I hummed. “Yeah, the training will come in handy. Getting a little flabby there, Bryson.”
His very not-flabby body flexed as he removed my coffee and computer from striking distance before coming down on top of me, rolling his hips against my core as he settled into the cradle of my thighs.
“Maybe we can do a few more one-on-one workouts?” he offered, biting and sucking at my neck until my skin burned. “No hickeys, Bryson. We’re not teenagers anymore,” I chastised him. The effect was ruined as I shoved my hands down the back of his pants, grabbing handfuls of his ass to encourage his grinding. With a final hard suck, he released my skin with a pop, a smug grin spreading across his face as he checked his work. “Too late,” he muttered, looking so satisfied I couldn’t keep up the pretense of annoyance. Especially when he opened my robe and proceeded to have me for breakfast twice before he had to leave for the pool.
Damn, the man was good. I lay, boneless on my sofa until my coffee was cold, and the strengthening sunlight reminded me there were things I needed to get done today too. Dragging myself into my bathroom, I had a hot shower, enjoying the memory of Kane on his knees as I soaped myself up. That image was going to stay with me every time I jumped into that shower. After dressing and tying my wet hair back, I returned to my computer and edited my article until it shone. Pressing send on the piece, I sat back and wondered how it would feel to see my name on the by-line of a real, published article. I had written mock articles in college, but this would be the first time I was paid to report on something.Would it be childish to start a scrapbook of my articles?I wondered. Maybe buy two copies of the paper and send one home to Mom? I worried about her a lot these days. The stress of putting me through school and paying off the debt left by Dad’s medical bills had aged her. Thinking about her in that old house, alone, I felt a pang of guilt. I sent her half of every paycheck I made to help her, but was that really enough to be a good daughter? She would never say it to my face, but I always thought she feared being alone. The revolving door of ‘boyfriends’ in the years after Dad’s passing hinted at a need for others that I never really understood until I met Kane. Then everything that happened after cemented my belief that alone was best. Look after yourself, and you only have yourself to blame.
My computer pinged with an incoming email alert, and I opened the screen eagerly. Mr. Fagan confirmed receipt and advised it had been sent for final edits.
I grinned so hard it hurt, and thought about texting Kane the news, but he was in the pool. Besides, I could tell him in a few hours when he came home. We were planning a quiet movie night. Netflix and chill, as the kids say. I chuckled. Maybe I felt older than my years too.
A second ping sounded from my computer, and I opened the email to see Evie had contacted me.
I read the message quickly, grinning at the semi formal text she had clearly been trained to use when writing emails. Catch up for drinks the following weekend. The idea was appealing. Evie knew more about my history with Kane than anyone else. Arguably more than Allie, my best friend. Without hesitation, I sent a reply, confirming I was free and would love to catch up. I wondered where Kane and I would have been if we’d stayed together like Evie and Cody. They were such a fun couple, it was actually a surprise to discover they weren’t married when we reunited after so many years. Every relationship was different, I supposed.
With my article finished, and a few hours to kill before Kane returned, I decided to open up my other little project.
Sport was my first love, but writing was a close second, and the story I had hidden in a word file in the darkest corner of my laptop was an indulgence I hadn’t had much time for lately. I didn’t know why I kept working on it, except that the characters called to me every now and again, begging me to continue documenting their lives. I would never publish the thing, but I liked recounting the adventures of the people in my head. Knowing how distracted I could get in my character’s world, I set an alarm to ensure I would be ready when Kane came home.
Then I started to write.
* * *
“Darcy?”
Faedre took the knife in hand and swept it in a circle around her as the brigands closed ranks. She would not let them take her without a fight.Breathe, she reminded herself. Fighting was just like dancing, and she was one hell of a dance partner…
“Darcy.”
The man on her right, with barely a whisker on his face, broke ranks first. With a bellow that was part aggression, part anxiety, he leaped at her, trying to control her weapon hand…
“Babe.”
With a start I slammed my laptop closed and looked around, slightly blearily, to realize there was no light in the room. What time was it?
“It’s seven thirty. I got back a couple of hours ago, but you seemed pretty focused. What are you writing?”
I stuttered out something that I hoped made sense as I tried to reorient myself in the room. How long had he been back for?
“I was going to organize dinner,” I said, putting a hand to my forehead. Seriously, how had I lost so much time?
“That’s why I interrupted you. I was thinking of just picking up a pizza for us. Did you want to add anything to the order?”
“Umm… yeah, garlic bread. Otherwise, your choice. Tia knows my order though, you can probably just ask her. Sorry. Did you still want to watch a movie?”
Kane watched me closely for a minute, as though gauging how present I was before nodding. “You pick what we watch, I’ll be back soon with pizza. And now I’m dying to know what you were working on. Was it about me?” Tossing a throw pillow at him, I shifted my computer off my lap and realized I was bursting to use the bathroom. While he headed out, I did my business quickly, my head still spinning with story ideas. I hadn’t found the zone like that in months. Something about spending time with Kane had excited my muse and words were flowing beautifully.
In the kitchen, I climbed onto my counter to reach my wine glasses, pulling down two in case Kane felt like some, and grabbed the bottle of Merlot I had left over from my birthday party a couple of months earlier. Dropping them on the coffee table, I went into the fridge and found a can of the soda Kane liked too. He wasn’t a big drinker, so I didn’t want to assume he would want alcohol.
Back in front of the television, I flicked through the available movies on cable, finally settling onDie Hard. Classic.
I poured my wine and had just settled back into the sofa when Kane pushed through the door, loaded down with pizza boxes, a container of gelato swinging in a plastic bag on his hand.
“Three pizzas?” I asked in shock. I’d thought we would share one. Belmontes was generous with their pizza sizes, and no matter how delicious, your stomach could only take so much. Kane shrugged, flopping down beside me and depositing the load on the table before us. “I’m carbo-loading. Don’t take my fun away.”
Sweeping his eyes across the table, he picked up the gelato and spare wine glass, depositing both in the kitchen before returning to the sofa and curling himself around me.
We ate in silence, me sipping my wine while Kane worked his way through two whole pizzas and two sodas before relaxing into the cushions and pulling me into his body. The contact wasn’t sexual, though. It felt like a deeper connection. His muscles relaxed under me, and I felt the tickle of his fingers playing with the ends of my hair.Simple pleasures, I thought. With Kane, in this moment, it felt easy.
