I laughed at the absurdity of that question, then when his eyes clouded, I managed to move a finger to boop his nose. Affection welled inside me. “You know it was. You made me scream.”
He nipped at my fingertip, then rolled on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m glad. That was, yeah, real good.” He brushed his hair off his damp forehead. “Although I feel like I need another shower.”
“Can if you want to.” I gestured toward the small en-suite bathroom. “The shower won’t fit two of us, but it’s yours.”
“Okay.” He lay still for a moment, then crunched to sit up, his abs rippling. “I should get moving. Might not shower, but I will wash up.”
“Go for it.” I would’ve liked to have lain there longer, clinging to the afterglow, but Callum was probably right. Jos might come home, and I needed to do laundry before I went onto night shifts, and there was no reason to hang about in bed in the middle of the afternoon.
Still, I let my cooked-noodle muscles have another few minutes, while Callum disappeared into the bathroom and the water ran in the sink. He came out fully dressed, and tossed me a wet facecloth. That was thoughtful, although the mess on my chest and ass would take more than one cloth to tame.
Callum paused by the bed, looking down at me. “So.” He seemed a bit at a loss for words. “Yeah. I’ll, uh, go downstairs and do stuff.” He turned away, unlocked the door and slipped through, closing it behind him. I heard his feet on the stairs, heard a hitch but no wooden groan so he’d stepped over the bad tread. Then he was gone.
Laundry waits for no man, especially with a kid in the house, but still I lay there, longer than I should’ve, my eyes closed and my face in the pillows, trying to recapture that moment of perfect contentment.
CHAPTER 13
CALLUM
I buttoned my game-day suit jacket and mumbled goodbyes to the guys as I headed out of the arena after the game. A bunch of them were going out drinking, but I’d said I wanted to get home.Home. But not really home.
Living next door to Grandpa was weird. I went over there sometimes, to cook dinner for him or make sure the trash was taken out, stuff I didn’t want Grandpa doing. Sometimes Uncle Wayne was around, mostly he wasn’t and I managed to dodge him. I didn’t know what he was doing, but it sure wasn’t the chores. I saw Grandpa at the store, too, when I worked shifts, but it was still weird. We talked, but we couldn’t discuss the real things like why he should kick Uncle Wayne out, or what I was really doing with Zeke.
Five days of living with a guy I had the hots for, playing house like we were boyfriends when it was just sex and friendship, kind of did in my head. And then there was Jos, who mostly ignored me like I didn’t belong there. Although he ignored Zeke too, a lot of the time. I’d spent the last two nights in that house as the responsible adult because Zeke was at work, and Jos had said maybe six words to me. Even when I got up to make breakfastbecause Zeke came home and crashed, Jos grabbed a granola bar and slouched off to catch his school bus.
Hockey was still good. I was playing okay— other than another shit show last night, offset by a great win tonight— but off the ice, my brain was fumbling for traction and feeling guilty.
So when this unfamiliar guy came up to me outside the arena as I was heading for my car and said, “Your uncle Wayne sent me to find you. He said to tell you it’s urgent,” my first thought was that something was wrong with Grandpa. I followed him when he jogged off, calling, “Hey, what’s up?” And only realized that might be a bad idea when I rounded the corner of the arena, and there, in a deserted space near some utility posts, stood Uncle Wayne and another man, this one in his fifties at least, stocky and short and dressed in a suit.
Suit-guy said, “Hey, there. You must be Callum Fitzpatrick. Nice game. Unlike last night.”
I put on the brakes and stared at Uncle Wayne. “What’s going on?” The man who’d fetched me had moved behind me, so backing up wasn’t an option.
“Listen to him.” Uncle Wayne tilted his head at suit-guy.
“Why?”
“You can call me Mr. Smith.” Suit-guy held out a hand, but when I didn’t shake it, he grinned. “I have a proposal for you. Something that could get you easy cash, no risks. Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
Easy cashmade my pulse jump in alarm. “Not interested.” I stepped back, banging into the guy behind me. Dude didn’t stop me, though, as I dodged around him.
Smith called after me, “You’re making a mistake.”
The hell I am.I broke into a jog, rounded the corner, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the lingering crowd. Anyone Uncle Wayne was mixed up with no doubt would turn out to be bad news. A couple of people came over, asking for autographs,and I signed things while keeping watch on the spot I expected Uncle Wayne to appear.
After ten minutes, when he hadn’t showed, I figured he was gone. Still, driving home, I almost took a longer route in case I was followed. Then I realized how ridiculous that was, because Uncle Wayne lived right there. The thought that he could just bring Smith back with him into my life made me shiver. I pulled into Grandpa’s driveway, rather than Zeke’s. Better to not be associated with the house next door, when Jos was often home alone.
I made a note to round up some clean shorts and shirts while I was in the house, to pack for our roadie. We were flying down to Pasadena next morning to play two away games against the Pythons on the weekend. I wasn’t generally a fan of road trips, but I’d kind of been looking forward to this one and getting my head back on straight. Now I was worried about Grandpa and Jos and what the hell Uncle Wayne was up to.
I found Grandpa asleep on the couch, the TV playing but muted in front of him. Judging by the channel, he’d been watching my game. I eased the remote out of his slack fingers and tapped off the screen.
Grandpa woke with a snort. “What? Oh, Callum. Hi. I thought you weren’t coming over tonight.”
“I have a bit of time. Jos barely notices if I’m in the house or not.”
“I’m sure he appreciates not being all alone, even if he’ll never say so. I remember you not saying you appreciated things at that age.”
I’d been an ungrateful snot, so maybe I could cut Jos more slack. “Grandpa, do you know what Uncle Wayne is doing these days?”
