It was great fucking sex, so yeah, maybe I can.
There was something about that night that reminded me of who I am, what I have to offer, and the idea that a woman like Miller could want me, even if it’s just for the remainder of her time here, had me walking around as if I were invincible. Clearly, it translated to my game.
She, on the other hand, is entirely freaked out, and I’m not sure why. It was her idea, and I’m playing by her rules, but yesterday it was as if she thought every simple touch between us meant I was going to lock her down, wife her up, and put a baby in her just to keep her from leaving Chicago.
Her fucking rules. They’re undeniably worse than any I had ever put in place. Now we can indulge in having one another, but only in the dark and never overnight. It doesn’t feel like enough. But then again, I’m worried nothing will be enough when it comes to Miller Montgomery because no matter if I could kiss her in public or have her sleeping in my bed, the fact is she’s leaving in three fucking weeks, and our fling ends then.
I know Max isn’t asleep yet, but it’s getting close to his bedtime, so when I enter my hotel room, I make sure to do it as quietly as possible.
But the two of them aren’t in my room, so I make my way into Miller’s and find them laying on the couch in the corner. Max is on Miller’s lap with his head resting back on her chest. She’s got a blanket surrounding them, but I can spot my son already in his pajamas as Miller reads him a story, speaking low and hushed.
They don’t know I’m here, so I steal the memory, leaning on the doorframe to watch them together.
This version of her is so different from the one I met that first day. There’s a calmness about her now. She seems centered here with him, or maybe that’s just me projecting and she’s only acting this way for my son’s sake.
Miller reads, slightly adjusting her inflection to create different character voices, and Max loves it. He giggles when her voice takes on a masculine depth, and again when it goes high.
Miller turns the page before brushing my son’s hair, running her fingers through it almost absent-mindedly. My son’s little blue eyes are growing heavy as he melts into her touch and listens to her read.
And then my chest doubles in size when she presses her lips to the top of his head when she realizes he’s drifting off.
It’s so gentle and natural. Easy and done without thought. Exactly the way it is when I show my son affection.
God, they’re fucking cute together.
I shift on my feet and the floor creaks, breaking the soft moment. Max’s eyes shoot open once again when the two of them turn in my direction, finding me in the room.
They both smile.
“Dadda.” Max reaches out with his only empty fist, grasping the air as if he’s grasping for me.
“Hi, Bug.” I step into the room, joining them when I get on my haunches next to the couch. “Are you reading?”
He points to the illustrated children’s book in Miller’s hand, making some kind of noise that starts with a “B” sound. His version of saying book.
“Yeah, you’re right. That’s a book.” I make sure to enunciate the syllables so he can hear them all as my eyes drift up to Miller’s, finding her just as sleepy and content as my son. “Don’t you two look so cozy.”
I brush Max’s hair out of his eyes then I do the same to her because I don’t give a fuck about her rules right now. She’s only here for a little while longer so in this moment, I’m going to treat her how I want to treat her—as if she were mine.
“Was he okay today?” I take my hat off, dropping it to the floor because the brim is interrupting my view of them.
Miller nods with a sleepy grin before her eyes dart right to my hat where it sits upside down. “What’s that?”
My attention follows hers to find the small photo tucked into the inner band. I pull it out to show her, the edges worn from me touching it during every game.
It’s a tiny photo of Max when he was only seven months old. Just weeks after he came into my life and changed it forever.
Miller’s face softens with a sigh. “You touch that before every inning when you’re pitching. I saw it last night.”
“Yeah. The umpires have to check it before each game to make sure there’s nothing suspicious in my hat that could give me an edge, but most of them know it’s in there by now. It’s sappy and sentimental, but when I’m on the mound and stressed out, it’s a good reminder that work isn’t the most important thing in my life. He is.”
She twists her lips, biting the bottom one. “You’re a good dad, Kai.”
I offer her a small smile, feeling a bit more deserving of those words.
“Let’s go to bed.” I say that to my son because sleepovers are against Miller’s rules.
I want to tell her that her boundaries are bullshit, but I don’t exactly have the freedom to say that when I decided to ignore my own boundaries just two nights ago. And here I am, in a world of trouble because of it. I can feel the painful goodbye lingering in my future, so yeah . . . maybe there’s a part of me that wants her to feel a bit of that too.
With Max in my arms, Miller follows me back into my room. Our hotel stays have felt more fluid lately, as if our two rooms are intended to be one. If Miller is getting Max settled for bed, she takes him to her room to get him away from his toys and the chaos. And if we’re all here together, she comes and spends time with us in mine.
As soon as we get past the door separating our rooms, Miller’s phone rings. She pulls it out of her back pocket, skin cinching between her brows.
“Who is it?”
“Violet. My agent.” She nods back towards her room before slipping inside and closing the door behind her to keep her conversation private.
Panic instantly floods me. Why would anyone from work be calling her? She’s off for another three weeks. She’s mine for another three weeks.
Taking Max to the chair in my room, I hold him against my chest so I can spend a little time with him before the day is over, attempting to not let my new anxiety interrupt our time together. He settles into me all sleepy before he points back to Miller’s room.
“Mmm,” he hums.
“What, Bug?”
He points to the door again. “Mmm.”
“Are you trying to say Miller?”
“Mmm.”
“Yeah, that’s Miller.” I rock in the chair, rubbing a hand over his back as I tilt my head to look at him. “Do you love Miller?”
He probably doesn’t know what I’m asking, but he nods against me anyway, recognizing the question in my inflection.
Even if he doesn’t understand what he just answered, I know my boy loves that girl.
“I know you do.” I place a kiss on the top of his head. “She loves you too, buddy.”
Minutes later, Max is passed out asleep in my arms, so I carefully place him in his crib, turning off most of the lights, but then the relaxed and calm vibe completely changes when Miller cracks the door between our rooms.
Stress is evident on her pretty face.
“I’m going to bed.”
I catch the door before she closes it. “What’s wrong?”
“Just tired.”
Bullshit. She was tired before that phone call, but she’s not anymore. Now she’s upset.
“What did she want?”
“Kai—”
“Are you going back early?”
The question comes out so needy and desperate, and maybe it’s against her rules to show that side of me, but I don’t give a shit. I’m quickly learning I’m both of those things when it comes to her.
“No . . . no, I’m not going back early. It was about the upcoming article, but it’s also not a big deal.”