by Finn, Emilia
Or the pretty girl I kinda turned stalker for overnight while I watched her sleep.
I need to get my sneakers from my room so we can run, and take a pill before I’m left crying on the couch this afternoon because floor-sleeping, ten miles, and shitty weather kill my old injuries.
The Rollers gave us permission to run this morning since the sun is creeping up and our behavior last night was perfect. Well… except for the watching the girls sleep thing. But I keep that shit to myself and go about my life without the threat of a broken neck from a protective daddy.
Moving quietly since Mom’s car is downstairs but there’s no coffee in the air, I move into my bedroom and switch out my shoes. Stepping into the hall, I pass Mom’s bedroom on the way to the bathroom, only to come to a screeching halt at her open door. I let my eyes scan the heavy boots lying on the floor. They don’t belong. Then the jeans slung over the end of the bed. They definitely don’t belong. My brain knows I should stop looking, but my eyes keep going until I catch sight of a dude’s inked back and his tattooed arm slung over my mom as they both sleep on their stomachs.
With a pounding heart and shaking hands, I back out of the room and vow to never speak of this again. Closing the door in silence, I practically sprint back to the kitchen and toss my pain pill into my mouth. I chase it with a glass of water and do everything in my power to not look toward the hall. If they wake up while I’m here, I’ll for sure die.
Tiptoeing from the kitchen to the living room while I swipe water from my lip, I slide out the front door and look at Benny as though he’s a changed man. Or maybe it’s me that’s changed. Maybe my mom has.
Fuck knows, but something changed in there, and I can’t figure out what the fuck I think about it.
“Let’s go.” I grab Ben’s arm and drag him along the hall. “We got fifty-five minutes now, and there’ll be no bacon left by the time we get back.”
“Wait up.” Benny skips down the stairs in time with me, but his brow is lifted. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” My voice breaks. It fucking breaks! “Nothing’s wrong. But I was thinking; do you think your mom will be cool with me sleeping over tonight?”
“Sure. She won’t care.” He opens the door at the bottom of the stairs and waits for me to pass through. “Why? I thought you were eager to get home to your mommy.”
I roll my eyes. “You say mommy like I should be ashamed for wanting to hang out with her. As if you don’t have attachment issues to yours. Get the fuck outta here, Conner.”
He sniffs because I’m right. I’m pretty sure Benny would still sleep in his mom’s bed if she wasn’t a newlywed and Oz Franks wasn’t taking up that side these days.
My mom finally has someone taking up the other side of her bed, and better yet, I like that motherfucker, so I’ll make myself scarce tonight and let my mom enjoy what she’s got a little longer. I don’t have to know the details, so long as she’s smiling when I call her later today to tell her I’m crashing at Ben’s.
19
Eric
Sunlight creeps through Katrina’s window and pulses light over my eyelids. It’s not a steady light, but wavering, as though wind is moving the curtains… except the window is closed.
Pushing up onto my elbow, I cast a glance toward the closed window, the closed door, then back to Katrina’s bare back as she lies on her stomach beside me. Her breasts are squished beneath her weight, and her hair is messed sixty ways from Sunday. But her cheeks are flushed in the most beautiful way. Her lashes kiss her cheeks, fluttering as though she might be dreaming.
Her pouty lips move into a smile, but when she doesn’t follow it with stop watching me sleep, ya creep, I figure she’s still asleep.
Maybe she’s thinking of me.
I bring a gentle hand closer and brush a little hair off her face. Wouldn’t that be something if she was dreaming of me? It would be sweet, and small restitution for all of the times I’ve slept and thought of her.
Whatever it is she’s thinking of, it makes her smile. And that makes me smile as I lean closer and press my lips to her temple.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty.” I cast another glance across the room and hate that I didn’t ask what time she’s on shift today. It’s barely seven, which is early for a weekend, but she’s normally at the diner by now, and I’d feel like shit if I’m the reason she’s late. “Hey.” I push more hair off her face and nuzzle her neck. “You gotta wake up, beautiful.”
“Stop watching me sleep,” she grumbles sleepily. “Ya creep.”
I chuckle. “What time do you start work today? The sun’s up.”
Groaning, she pushes up to her elbows and turns to study the clock; then with a second grunt, she drops down again and hugs the pillow. “Start at nine. Still have two hours to sleep. Don’t ever wake me up again.”
“Well…” I grin. “I mean…” I fix the sheets so I can crawl impossibly closer. Her exhaustion wars against my conscience and the need to make her rest, but her smile makes my cock hard, and when, if ever, will I be able to sleep and wake in the same bed as her again?
Possibly never.
So I slide my hand over her rounded ass, groan when memories of last night race back through my mind, then I press my lips to the back of her shoulder.
Over and over again, I rub circles on her skin and press peppered kisses to her shoulder blades. “You could sleep,” I whisper. Another kiss. Then another. “Or you could come.”
“I choose sleep,” she grumbles.
I laugh. Climbing over her so my legs rest on either side of her hips, I grind my cock against her ass and grin when her sleepiness turns to squirming. “Are you sure about that, beautiful? You could have a fitful nap for two hours, or you could be energized in other, much more pleasurable ways.”
Groaning, she pushes me back a step, then up to her knees. “Do both. You fuck, me sleep. Make me come while I’m still dreamin’.”
“Suits me.” I slide a finger in without waiting to see if she’s really on this ride with me. For as long as we stay in this room, she’s mine, and asleep or not, she trusts me to pleasure her.
She hisses when I slide a second finger in and pushes back onto my hand, but her eyes remain closed, her lips still pouty and soft. My hips move in time with my hand, and my cock seeps with want, dripping onto her calf muscle and drawing another hiss from between her lips.
“I want you more than I want my next breath.” I pump my hand and curl my fingers until she’s coming on a gentle sigh. Her eyes remain closed, and I swear, she might legitimately be asleep. “I want you more than I want food.” My hand continues to move, but I reach across to her bedside table and yank out a brand new strip of condoms. Ripping one open and withdrawing my fingers, I make fast work of sliding the rubber down before she kicks me in the nuts for stopping. Moving between her legs and taking hold of her succulent hips, I line up and slam in on one fast movement.
Her hisses turn to quiet screams, but her walls clamp around me and almost drag me over the edge in one single thrust. “Fuck!” My breath races as though I’ve run a marathon. “Jesus, Katrina.” I pull back to the very tip of my cock, then slam in again and grit my teeth. “You undo me.” My thighs burn because I was in this position a lot in the last twelve hours. I hold her hip with one hand and her shoulder with the other, so I can control her whole body. Her eyes are still closed, but her body knows me; it welcomes me. It fucking snares me and drags me into her web.
This was never supposed to happen. This thing I feel for her, the way my heart throbs with both pleasure and pain, terrified and exhilarated at the same time.
“I wasn’t supposed to love you,” I grunt and slam in. Now’s a good time for her to stay asleep, because I need to purge my heart and admit my deepest, darkest fears. “I was supposed to fuck you and sate a hunger.” I slam inside her so each time we meet, she shoots forward and half-smothers herself with her pillow. “You were supposed to be easy. Then forgettable.” I slam in again and bite
my bottom lip before I say the very thing that could ruin everything.
I love you. I love you. I fell in fucking love with you.
“Fuck, Katrina.” The fact that this woman didn’t react when I first mentioned love proves she’s still asleep, so I bring a hand back and smack her ass until the slap echoes in her room.
Her head snaps up, her eyes fiery with rage as she looks over her shoulder and into my eyes. “What the fuck?”
She’s awake now. I take both her hips in my hands and ride her the way I’m supposed to, like a mongrel dog looking for a fast fuck, not a man in love who’ll probably be the reason she gets hurt. “You’re so fuckin’ tight, Katrina. So hot and sweet.”
Forgetting her anger, she turns back to her pillow and buries her face. Her neck strains, and her shoulders bulge as she holds her weight up under my onslaught. She meets my thrusts with a solid brace on the bed, so instead of slamming her forward, she holds her own and swallows me up until the tip of my cock touches her womb. “Fuck, Eric.” Her body is strong, but her words are a cry. “Jesus, don’t slow down.”
“I won’t.” If anything, I speed up. My thighs burn, but the burn only adds to my pleasure. It’s a punishment of sorts, because I should have left her the fuck alone. But here we are; I’m in her bed, and now my heart bleeds for a whole new family. “Fuck.”
* * *
We’re on the clock, with only fifty-eight minutes until she’s due to clock in at work, I make my way to her kitchen while Katrina’s shower shuts off and her hair dryer flicks on. I’m fully dressed and prepared to toss myself out of her window if her front door opens and Mac comes in.
To avoid that awkwardness and save Katrina’s dignity, I’d be willing to jump to my death. But until then, I flip the coffee machine on and search the drawers for a pan to cook breakfast in. I toss a cast iron skillet on the stove, flick the gas on, then I make my way to the fridge and yank it open.
I shouldn’t make myself so comfortable, but for as long as that front door remains closed and Katrina’s hair dryer on, I can do whatever the fuck I want and pretend it’s totally cool.
I frown at the inside of the fridge. No bacon, but there are eggs, ham, and a pepper, so I yank those out and begin making an omelet. It’s better for her than greasy bacon anyway.
I glance across the counter when vibration catches my attention. I shouldn’t look, but my eyes invariably make their way to Katrina’s lit up screen and flashing name. The phone buzzes, buzzes, buzzes. “Katrina?” I call out and wipe my hand on a towel. “Babe?”
The dryer cuts out and drops the apartment into silence. “Did you call me?”
“Yep. Your phone is ringing, and Mac’s name is flashing.” I pick it up off the counter and walk down the hall. I stop at the bathroom door and grin when I find her stark fucking naked. “Didn’t think you’d wanna miss it.”
“Thanks.” The call has already rung out, so she takes a second to drop toothpaste onto her brush, then press her finger to her lips to shush me. Message received. I don’t exist as far as her kid is concerned.
I nod because I feel like she needs the confirmation I’ll behave, then I turn away and make my way back to the kitchen as she dials.
“Hey, babe.” Katrina’s voice carries through the tiny apartment. In fact, even Mac’s tinny voice makes its way toward me. “How was the lock in?”
I don’t hear his individual words as I finish whisking the omelet and pour the liquid into the already hot pan. It sizzles instantly, creating an aroma in the air my stomach almost jumps out of my body to get to.
“They what?” Katrina laughs. “Bobby and Jack? Really? Who won?” Silence as she listens to her kid tell his story. “No way? I swear, those guys are so stupid. Why are boys so stupid, baby?”
When he answers with something quick and witty, she laughs and makes her way into the kitchen in jeans and her work top. She was dressing and talking on the phone, and neither me or Mac could hear the difference in her voice.
“Don’t grow up to be a big dummy, baby. Be smart. Don’t smack your head against a brick wall just because someone told you it was manly.”
Katrina pauses when she catches sight of me in her kitchen, then her eyes drop to the pan in astonishment. My gut twists when I wonder why she’s so dumbfounded, only to reach the conclusion that nobody ever cooks for her. She already told me that before: she does her own laundry; she cooks her own food. She doesn’t want to get herself off if she doesn’t have to. “Uh-huh,” she murmurs. “Yeah.” She shakes her head as though to clear the fog. Moving toward the fridge, she pulls out an almost-empty bottle of juice and pours it into a single glass. The liquid stops just a quarter of an inch from the lip of the glass, then she tosses the empty bottle into the recycling bin and places the juice in front of me.
I frown, then shake my head. There’s only enough for one; there’s no chance in hell I’m taking it.
Katrina continues to listen to Mac tell his story, but her eye roll is for me. She picks up the glass, takes a sip, lifts a brow, then sets it back in front of me.
We’re going to share.
“I’m glad you had fun, baby. And I didn’t get a visit from the police, so that’s a good sign,” she snickers. I can’t make out Mac’s individual words, but I swear, I hear his eye roll. “You… huh?” She stops halfway across the room and lifts her shoulders. “Really? Tonight?”
I swear I try to mind my own business. I try not to listen into this one-sided conversation, but she’s right there, and I’m pretty sure I went and fell in love like a total fuckin’ douchebag. So despite the fact I tell myself to stop listening, my ears won’t do as ordered.
Katrina’s shoulders remain high, tempting me to hold her close and try to take some of that stress away, and when she turns back to me, her brows almost touch with how severe her frown is. “Are you sure? Oz and Lindsi said it’s okay?” She pauses again while she listens. “I mean… sure.” Her voice breaks. She puts on this brave front for her son, but her voice fucking breaks right in front of me.
“It’s okay with me as long as it’s okay with them… Uh-huh… What am I doing right now?” Her eyes come back to mine. “Making breakfast, then I’m going to work…” She pauses to listen. Nods. “I will. Call me later if you want or come into the diner so I can feed you. I’m gonna miss your face today.” Her smile is wobbly and breaks my heart. “Okay. I’ll see you when you come in. Don’t forget me, okay?” She brings a hand up to nervously fuss with her hair. “Okay. I love you, baby. See you later.”
As soon as she hangs up, I ask. I shouldn’t, because she already laid out the rules which clearly included minding my own damn business when it comes to her son. But I can’t not care. “Is everything okay?” I flip the heat off the stove and move cooked omelet to the side. “You look sad.”
She stares at her dark phone for a whole minute before gathering herself and meeting my eyes. “Everything’s okay. He had fun, and he even made ten bucks on a fight overnight.”
My lips twitch. “Who fought?”
“Bobby Kincaid and Jack Reilly.” She shrugs. “He made a bet with Lucy Kincaid. She lost; he won. Now he’s bragging all over the place like he’s rolling in the Benjamins.” She forces a laugh, but the eyes that meet mine border on heartbreak. “He wants to sleep at Benny’s tonight.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I step around the counter and pull her into my arms. She rests her face on my chest and wraps her arms around my hips. “Are you worried they’ll get into trouble?”
“No.” She clears her throat. “He’d be staying at a cop’s house. I mean, it’s kinda best case scenario for me. But still…”
I lean back an inch and bring her eyes up to mine. “But what?”
“That’ll be two nights in a row,” she pouts. “It scares me that he’s growing up so fast. I wished away so many years, and now it’s like a locomotive, too heavy to stop, too fast to appreciate. I miss him like I’d miss my own head.”
I press a kiss to th
e crown of her head. Then another. Then a third as she squeezes me tight and breathes out a sigh. “I’m sorry you’re gonna miss him. But I’m glad he’ll be staying somewhere you know he’ll be good.”
“I know. Me too. I’m just a whiny baby,” she snickers. “He’s my baby, but now everyone wants me to share him. Nobody was offering to share when he wouldn’t sleep for his first year.”
I chuckle at her bitter tone. “This is what happens when we grow up. We make friends and create social circles outside of our moms.” I pull back and press a kiss to her forehead. I’ve broken so many rules already, so what’s one more? “Are you doing a double shift today? What time do you finish?”
“I’m on till close.”
I frown, because I hate that she has to work a fifteen-hour shift on only five hours sleep.
“I really need to move my ass before I end up late again,” she sighs. “I have no clue why Franky tolerates me. I swear, I cause more drama than it’s worth.”
I roll my eyes. “He loves you, that’s why. Now eat your breakfast.” I pull back and drag her toward the stools that line the counter. “You need protein; otherwise you’ll drop.”
“Did you cook this for me?” She tosses the phone onto the counter and watches me plate up the omelet. “Like, for real for me?”
I snort. “For real for you.” I sprinkle a little salt on top, then pick a little parsley from the pot hung above her sink. Placing it carefully in an effort to make her feel fancy, I set the plate down by her clasped hands and lean across the counter to drop a kiss on her lips. “Eat up. You’ve already showered; you smell as fresh as flowers, and you look beautiful. So now you just have to eat, then we can go.”
“We?” She accepts the knife and fork I offer, and cuts into the aromatic dish with feverish hunger. “Why we?”
“Because I need a burger before work. It’s tradition.”
