“He must’ve understood that though, no?” She smoothes her fingertip along the outline of my hand. “Couldn’t you get in touch now?”
“Maybe. But I was a complete asshole to him,” I add. “So I don’t know.”
“We know that part’s true.” She lifts her head, smirking. “That’s how you were when we first met.” I pinch her ass and she twists in my lap. “Anyway, more people need to hear that voice. It’s very swoony.”
“Swoony.” I laugh. “That’s a new one.”
A teasing spark flickers in her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I want girls throwing their underwear at you. But it could happen.”
“Really now?” I kiss the tip of her nose. “Well, news flash, Mickey. There’s only one girl I want throwing her underwear at me. The rest of them can go to hell.”
An enormous smile makes her entire face beam. “Perhaps I can arrange some underwear throwing for tomorrow night.” Her cheeks burn bright red. “They would be sexy underwear of course.”
I grin, letting my thumb skim her jaw. “I don’t know. I was kind of hoping they’d be Mickey Mouse underwear.”
“I’m willing to shed Mickey for special occasions.” She twirls a tendril of her hair. “Sometimes, sacrifices must be made.”
My hand travels around to the front of her t-shirt, one finger dipping inside the neckline to sweep lightly over her skin and she shivers. “If you must.”
“And right now,” she pulls my hand from her shirt and wriggles out of my lap, “I have some things I need to do.”
“Like what?” I fucking pout because I want her here, with me. “You just got here.”
“I’m having dinner with Avery and then she’s dragging me shopping.” She rolls her eyes on the last part which I know she finds excruciating. As I stand up, she gives me a kiss way too short and I want more. I try to slide my arms around her but she pulls out of my grasp, flashing me a coy grin. “Until tomorrow.”
I flop back onto the bed with a groan, adjusting the crotch of my jeans.
I’ve never looked forward to tomorrow so much in my life.
“ONE MORE,” JULIAN whines after I’ve already taken his ass in three games of pool.
“Julian. You haven’t been able to win the first three.” I place the triangle on the table to rack the balls, flipping him a cocky glance over my shoulder. “What makes you think you can win now?”
He props his stick against the table then rubs his hands together. “I was just getting warmed up.” Lifting his beer, he raises it in the air. “Cheers. Besides, what else do you have to do anyway? Your girl is busy tonight.”
My girl. I like the sound of that.
“Ah, and cue the grin. Come on,” he coaxes and I can’t help but laugh. “There it is.”
I poke him with my stick and he presses a hand to his ribs, feigning injury. “Shut the fuck up and play pool.”
“Whatever you say, loverboy.” He waggles his brows as he sets the bottle down, grabbing his pool stick and positioning himself for the first shot. “Whatever you say.”
“You’re just making me more determined to whip your ass… again.” As I move next to him, he bends at the waist to break, balls flying everywhere except in the pockets. He mutters a curse under his breath and I chuckle. “Would you look at that? You know, the goal is to get the balls in the pockets.”
“Yeah, yeah. So anyway.” He taps the butt of his stick against the floor, hesitating. “Have you… talked to Dad at all?”
“Dad, no why?” I set up for the shot, motioning with my chin toward the table. “Blue stripe in the right corner,” I announce, and the ball slides over the green felt and makes a loud crack as it lands in the pocket. “I haven’t seen him. He sent me a text saying that he was on a business trip, but nothing else.” I walk over to Julian. “What’s going on?”
“He got back last night and we grabbed a quick bite. You were with Ember. Anyway, I don’t know. He seems…,” his voice fades, “off or something.”
“Honestly, Julian, I’m not sure I’d know his off from his on at this point,” I admit, scraping a hand through my hair. “You know we haven’t been on the best of terms.”
“So why don’t you change that?” He kicks my foot with the toe of his boot. “He loves you, you know.”
“What about Mom?” I bite out. “Does he love Mom?”
“Vance.” He huffs out a frustrated breath. “Of course he does.”
“Funny. He’s got a shit way of showing it.” Like a knife slashing through my chest, the mere mention of my father rips me open. I march over to the table and drop my stick down. “I’m gonna get some fresh air.”