“Really? In my kitchen? Next to the food?” Ryan stands in the entryway with his hands full of dirty dishes. “At least use a spare bedroom. We’ve got three more besides the one Max is sleeping in.”
Kai takes a step back and I create more distance. The last thing I need is his friends comparing their situation to Kai’s while they’re getting married and having babies, and I’m over here only allowing myself to indulge in his lifestyle for my brief stay.
“You guys could sleep here, you know?” Ryan sets the dishes in the sink and starts to clean them. “That way you don’t have to move Max.”
And dear God, that sounds couple-y as fuck, spending the night at his friends’ house after we’ve all had dinner and drinks together.
Kai quickly glances my way, most likely noting the look of absolute terror on my face. “Thanks, man, but we leave on a road trip tomorrow, so we should get back.”
It’s one of the few times I’m thankful he can read my mind.
Max is still passed out on his dad’s shoulder by the time we get to the front door of their house. Kai unlocks it, standing back to usher me inside.
But I can’t go in. It’s almost as if there’s a force field keeping me out. After tonight, things feel too sticky, too connected for me to go inside with him.
Running my hand over Max’s hair, I place a quick kiss on his little forehead.
“I’m gonna . . .” I toss my thumb over my shoulder towards the side gate that leads to his backyard. “I’m just going to go to bed.”
“Mills.” Kai’s tone is somewhat begging. “Please don’t sleep out there.”
God, that plea hits me right in the heart, cracking a bit more of the armored shell that surrounds it.
And for that reason, I take two steps backward toward the side gate and slip into the backyard without another word.
“Miller,” he whisper-shouts. “Are you serious?”
I get myself inside the van, immediately locking the door behind me, needing to create some sort of barrier from the domestic, homey, and settled feelings that have invaded my chest tonight.
I just need to sleep it off. Maybe I’ll take a drive tomorrow before the flight and remind myself that there are places other than Chicago, the city I’m leaving in a month. I just need a bit of fresh air to remind me who I am, that I don’t care about his friends’ opinions of me or the fact that I’d really like to see those girls again. I can be by myself for a moment, just the way I’m used to living.
Shaking it off, I reach for my toothbrush next to my sink, but come up empty.
That’s weird. I put it right back where I always do after I used it this morning.
Searching around my tiny van, I don’t find it anywhere. Nor do I find my skin care, my toothpaste, my goddamn slippers.
Me: Did you steal my toothbrush?
Baseball Daddy: You didn’t even say goodnight.
Me: Malakai Rhodes. Where’s my toothbrush?
Baseball Daddy: Oh, she full-named me.
Me: Kai!
Baseball Daddy: Next time, don’t leave before saying goodnight.
Me: Goodnight. Happy? Where’s my fucking toothbrush? And all my other shit.
Baseball Daddy: I think I saw it in my guest room. Can’t be sure, though. You should probably come inside and check.
Me: You’re going to move me into your house without asking? Seriously?
Baseball Daddy: I’ve told you I don’t like you sleeping outside.
Me: You’re annoying.
Baseball Daddy: Back door is unlocked.
As soon as I step through the back slider, I find Kai already stripped down to his boxer briefs as he stands in his kitchen, ankles crossed with the electric tea kettle heating up next to him. “Chamomile tea? It’s good for the nerves.”
“I think I hate you again.”
He simply wears a proud smile.
I charge right past him towards the guest room. “I know what you’re doing, Kai. Dinner with your friends, moving me into your house.”
“I’m not doing anything. It was dinner, a meal you eat every day. And big surprise, I don’t like you sleeping outside. That’s all entirely casual and rational stuff. If you’re overthinking it, then that sounds like a you problem.”
I don’t have the energy to argue with his completely sane logic. Maybe I am overthinking it all, but this weird ball won’t unfurrow from my chest. It feels like homesickness which makes no goddamn sense. I don’t have a home to miss.
Kai’s guest room is the first door to the right past the kitchen, across from his spare bathroom. One of his team shirts is folded neatly on the duvet for me to sleep in and my slippers are lined up next to the door. Quickly undressing, I leave my underwear on and slip his shirt over my head. Kai’s huge and I’m not, so this shirt is practically a dress falling around mid-thigh.
Stomping across the hall to the bathroom like a child, I find my toothbrush and toothpaste sitting in a cup by the sink and my skin care thoughtfully laid out on the counter.
Through the mirror, I find an almost naked Kai behind me, long arms hanging onto the top of the doorframe, satisfied grin on his lips as he watches me brush my teeth.
“You’re annoying,” I mumble past the suds in my mouth.
“It’s a wall. The only difference between you staying in my house and outside of it is a wall. The other part, where you’re convincing yourself that because you sleep in a place with wheels it’ll keep you detached from everyone around you, that’s on you.”
I pin him with a scowl through the reflection. “It’s my home, and I’m going back out there tonight.”
“It’s your car, and if you stay inside the house, I can finally lock the back door again.”
“What are you talking about?” I spit out the toothpaste. “Why haven’t you been locking the back door?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t want you locked out of the house in case you needed . . . something. I haven’t locked it since the first night you stayed out there.”
My eyes shoot up through the reflection, instantly finding his. Standing there, toothbrush in my hand, his gaze wanders down my length in the mirror, watching the way his shirt drapes over my body.
Kai clears his throat. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” And with that, he and his shirtless body leave me to finish my night-time routine.
When I’m done, I find him leaning against the kitchen counter with a mug in his hands. He’s stunning and sleepy and I’m trying my hardest not to think about the single wall that’ll separate his bed from mine tonight if I stay in his spare room.
“Tea?” he asks, holding up his mug.
He would like tea, this family man who wears glasses and raised his younger brother. My original notions of him being overbearing and uptight could not be further from the truth. He simply cared too much, loved too hard. He almost cried tears of joy from watching his son take his first steps today for goodness’ sake.
“I’m okay, but thanks.”
I can sense his anticipation, expecting me to bolt. It’s my thing, after all.
I told myself I would get my stuff and go right back outside, but I find my feet glued to the kitchen floor. As much as I don’t want to admit it, experiencing the simple joys of Kai’s life today was the most fun I’ve had in a while. Here I am, supposedly showing this man how to have a good time when a Sunday night dinner and a toddler’s first steps beat anything I could come up with.
His attention drops to the mug in his hand as I lean on the counter opposite him. “Why were you so hesitant about meeting my friends?” he asks.
“I don’t know.”
His eyes flick up to me. “Don’t lie to me. Tell me why.”
Okay, him understanding me enough to know when I’m lying is quite annoying.
“I don’t really have many friends.”
He pins me with a look, silently asking me to elaborate.
“I’m on the move so much that my relationships are always temporary. It’s easier to go into each new city with that expectation already in place. It hurts less to leave that way.”
“But tonight, those were my friends. Why was that difficult for you?”
I shake my head. “Stop.”