“Brayden?” Deanna’s voice along with the fact that her hand wraps around my cock snaps me out of my thoughts.
I reach over to grab the condom, letting her hand and the thought of sex force the rest of my thoughts out of my mind. Thinking about it during a time like this just cements the fact that while we’re definitely still together, we have a lot to work through.
***
He came over this morning, we talked, and we had sex. Things are slowly returning to normal for us. It gives me peace of mind and allows me to go into work with a clear head, which I very much need. I’m interviewing a few people for my newly vacated position. I glance down at myself. I really should’ve taken the time to do myself up better. Putting sex with Brayden ahead of looking decent as an employer might not have been my best idea.
Oh, well.
Just before the first person is set to arrive, there’s a knock on my office door. “Come in,” I call out. The last person I expect to walk into my office is Rose. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, hello to you too.”
“Hello. Now, what are you doing here? I don’t have time. I have interviews.” I glare at her since she’s the reason I have interviews in the first place. One of the worst parts of this job is interviews. I hate conducting them. I’d rather fire someone. Seriously.
“Oh, I didn’t know. I was hoping we could do lunch.”
“Maybe tomorrow unless you want to go around three?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
She leaves and my first interviewee is escorted in. I have an uneasy feeling about meeting with her, but I’m not sure why. I’ll find out soon enough. My first two people are duds, but the third? She might be a winner.
I finish with her just in time to leave and meet Rose at a restaurant across the street by three. She’s already at a table and waiting, looking anxious. Not a good sign.
“What’s up?” I ask as I take my seat. “How are things going?”
“Good. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”
“Okay.”
“I feel like I owe you a true explanation of what happened.”
Oh, god. I’m not sure I’m prepared to hear this. The waitress interrupts us to take our orders, and we order our usual; we would come here often when we didn’t want to travel far. The moment she walks away, Rose takes a deep breath.
“I don’t know if I’m going to say this in the right way, so forgive me if I don’t. I felt like I had a bit of a mid-life crisis early. With your mom dying and you being so wishy washy with those guys like usual, but then seemingly moving on. It, in a weird way, made me realize I have nothing going for me. Not like you do, with or without a man. You own a business, Deanna. I worked in a dead-end job.”
I wince.
“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with working with you. I did enjoy it, and I still think it’s better for our friendship that we don’t work together, but there’s no way I could improve there. I couldn’t ever move up the ladder and I would never make as much money, or more than you do. That’s my point. I had to leave. I do wish I didn’t leave you in a bind like I did, and I’m sorry for doing so. I have no excuse for that. So, I found another job and I’m figuring out what I want to do, so I can go back to school next fall.”
“That’s great.” I can’t seem to think of anything else to say other than that.
Rose has no problem keeping the conversation going for me. I eventually gather my wits about me and tell her that I’m happy for her and I hope everything works out. Then, I get back to work. I keep looking at my employees, wondering if they think they’re working in dead-end jobs as well. In a way, I guess they are. But there will eventually come a time when someone will be manager level, someone other than me. I haven’t felt comfortable doing that yet, so I’ve always done it.
At some point, I’ll need someone I can trust to take care of things in case I want to take a vacation. I’ll need someone to teach the classes in case I’m not here again or if I can’t for some reason. Maybe I should start looking into doing that now? Maybe this is a case where sooner is better than later. I don’t know.
I leave two girls in the front and disappear into my office to get some paperwork done before my class tonight. Paperwork is so easy to get lost in. I can work for hours and hours without realizing I’ve been working for so long.
As is the case today.
“Knock, knock.”
My head snaps up at the sound of Brayden’s voice as he pushes my office door open. I stand and move around my desk to kiss him. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“You have a class tonight, right?”
“Yeah.” Where is he going with this?
“I would like to observe if that’s okay.”
My eyebrows pull together in confusion. “Observe? Why?” A flush of anxiety also hits me.
“You’ve seen me work; I want to see you work.”
“You’ll be bored,” I blurt out, the anxiety getting the best of me.
“How can I get bored watching you?”
I roll my eyes, even though I totally just swooned. “If you want to stay, you can stay.” This feels like it’s going to end very badly. Brayden flashes me a grin. I check the time. “Come help me set up.” He follows me to the room in the very back of the shop where I hold my classes. Today’s is a general sewing class. Like a loyal little student who wants to suck up to the teacher, Brayden helps me set out the materials. They bring their own sewing machines; I provide fabric and a few other small things to do a mini project.
We finish up when the first person walks in. She stops short when she sees Brayden. Her eyes widen, her mouth parts a little, and I wonder if I looked like that when I first saw him. Brayden clears his throat. “Where do you want me to be?”
“Just grab a seat and sit somewhere.” I leave him to meet with my first student and help get her set up. As more students come filing in, more of them react the same way, especially when one of them is a Carolina Rebels fan and actually knows who he is. I have to suffer watching her fan girl, get an autograph, and a photo before we can start class. It’s not that bad. I mostly feel bad because Brayden seemed uncomfortable.
Once I make my introduction, I forget he’s in the room, I’m so focused on my job. Apparently, a few new “fans” appear within my students by the time the class is over. Of the twenty students, five more of them decide to get a picture with Brayden once class ends. I clean up the room while he manages to smile for the photos.
“Are you still glad you came?” I ask once the last person finally leaves.
“Mostly,” he says as he stands.
“Not a fan of fans, are you?” I ask as he walks over to take my hand.
Brayden frowns and begins to lead me out of the room. “It’s not that. Fans are great. The attention is what I don’t particularly care for, especially when they tell me I’m awesome or that they love me. I always feel the urge to tell them I’m a jackass off the ice.”
“You are not.” I grab my purse from the office, release the employee who was in the front, and it’s just us as I go about the nightly routine of shutting the store down. “Overall, I mean,” I add, flashing him a teasing smile.
“Anything I can help you with?”
I wave him off. “I can get it done faster alone.”
Brayden wanders around the store until it’s time to go. He walks me to my car, but instead of opening the door for me, he presses me against the door. His hands are cold when they slide underneath my shirt, causing me to shiver. Brayden rests his forehead against mine.
“Stay with me tonight?”
“You stay with me. Your bed is too fucking small, darlin’.”
My body warms at hearing him call me that. It’s one of the ways I know we’re fine. “Can we talk when we get to your place?”
Brayden tenses. Those green eyes stare at me hard. “Yeah.” His voice is gruffer than usual and his unease is clearly conveyed.
I g
uess it’s never good when someone says they want to talk. I slide my hands up to grab his neck. “I just want to clear the air some more.”
“Okay. Let’s go; I’m starving.” His hand reaches out to open the door, but his eyes remain locked on mine.
Lifting up, I kiss him softly. “Thank you,” I whisper as I pull away.
“For what?”
“Everything.”
Brayden seems at a loss for words, so he opens my door and closes me in once I slide inside. I run by the house to get Otis and pack a bag. The only way to trust Brayden is to do what I did on our run earlier today: tell him more about my past. He knows the brief recaps, but if I tell him more, I have to trust him more and he’ll also understand why I’m an idiot sometimes. Right?
Maybe he’ll open up more, too. My end game is us working. That’s it. All I want is to be with him. The trick will be doing what it takes to make it work. Hopefully, I’m on the right track. At this point, I can’t imagine being with anyone but Brayden. Those few days at my grandma’s house were torture while I tried to figure out what the hell was going on in my head and how I would move forward.
Since I walked Otis at my house, I head straight inside once I get to Brayden’s. He’s lying on the couch, the TV on, but muted. Otis is next to him in seconds. I take my bag up to his room before coming back downstairs to find Otis lying on Brayden. I roll my eyes.
“He’s in my spot.”
Brayden grins. “He loves me; can you blame him?”
“No, but he’s still in my spot. Otis, down.”
Otis huffs as he moves to the foot of the couch instead and I take his place. He huffs again, making Brayden laugh, but I ignore them both. Brayden slides his hands up and down my back once before resting them on my the lowest part of my back so his fingers are on my ass.
“You know,” Brayden says, “I never met my father.” I’m so shocked by him speaking first and by what he says, that my brain freezes. “Mom says he left town a few days after she told him she was pregnant. She never saw or heard from him again.”
“Do you know his name?”
“Yeah. I’ve never been inclined to find him, though. Between my mom and my coaches growing up, I know he’s not the kind of man I ever want to meet. Besides, he knows how to find my mom if he wanted to meet me and he’s never done it.”
“Does it bother you?” I ask.
“No. I never thought I was missing something from my life. Mom did too good of a job raising me.”
We fall into silence and I soon realize that’s all he has to share for the moment. Everything I planned to tell him left my mind like they crept out the back door while he was talking so I wouldn’t notice. “I want to be with you.”
“I know.”
“Obviously, I have some issues. I want to get over them.” I lift my head to look at him. “Can we?”
“It’s a tough pill to swallow that you walked because you thought you were pregnant.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
His eyes harden. “I don’t care about the specifics or any elaborations, Deanna. It boils down to that, doesn’t it?”
I refuse to answer his question. The specifics and elaborations matter to me. It adds to the big picture instead of narrowing it down. “It’s not like I was closing you out for good, no matter how the situation would’ve turned out. I just needed a few days to clear my head.”
“Without telling me that,” he points out.
I sigh and plant my face into his chest. His hands move up to my hair, and they dive in, massaging in soothing motions. “I’m all in,” I mumble into his chest, causing his hands to freeze. “As stupid as it sounds, I ran for a few days because I’m in this with you completely. That’s scary as fuck, especially when I don’t always know if I can trust my decisions or when your mom tells me more about something than you did. I was scared out of my mind and you weren’t here. It was the second best place I could run to until you got back, even though I had my doubts.”
Brayden’s heart beats steadily, but loudly under my forehead. “So, if I was here...” He lets the question trail off.
“I would have come here to you, though I would’ve been more terrified than I would like to admit.”
His hands leave my hair and his arms wrap around my body. “Have I ever let you down before?” He continues on before I can say no. “If I ever do—”
“It’ll be okay,” I interrupt. “I won’t worry about it. Besides, I’ve already let you down, so if you do, then we’ll be even.”
Brayden chuckles. “Fair enough.” He mostly looks as if he wants to be done talking. He leans forward to kiss me. “Happy with your conversation?” he asks as his lips move over mine.
“Yes. I feel better.”
“Good.” His lips move over mine again, but a loud beeping noise goes off. “Dinner,” he groans. “Just as I was about to eat.”
I laugh and move off his body. My stomach growls as if suddenly realizing how hungry I am. “I’ll get it; you stay.”
The rest of our night is spent eating, lounging on the couch, and then heading up to bed.
We’re there, lying together, utterly spent but satisfied, when I realize sleep is not coming so easily for me tonight. Brayden’s breathing is slow and even; I close my eyes and try to let it lull me to sleep. My eyes, however, have another plan. They keep opening.
“Darlin’.” Brayden’s hand comes up and covers my eyes. “Stop blinking. Sleep. I got you off enough times that you shouldn’t be able to keep your eyes open; I can’t.”
True. Yet, here I am. “I can’t sleep.”
“Deanna,” he starts.
“If you bring up your damn patience, I’ll hurt you.”
He laughs. “I wasn’t. I was going to ask what’s the problem.”
I shrug a shoulder. “I don’t know.”
He sighs and tugs me closer. “Sleep, Deanna.” He demands it as if my body has no choice but to listen to him. His fingers trail up and down my back and my arm. Between that and listening to his breathing and heartbeat, I eventually fall asleep.
“Pick any one you want.”
Jackson’s eyes widen. “I can have one of these?” His fingers rub the material of the kid’s jersey. “Momma said I can?”
“It’s a gift from me. I’m sure she’ll be okay with it. Do you want a blank jersey or one with someone’s name on it?”
“Mr. EJ’s,” he quickly says.
“Okay then.” I release his hand to flip through the jerseys and he grabs my shirt. The store is busy and it makes me relax to know that he’s holding on anyway. When Raelynn texted me and said Jackson wanted to see the game up close and EJ wrangled glass seat tickets, but Bree was being extra fussy so she didn’t want to go, I didn’t think twice about taking him. In fact, I felt really fucking proud. Raelynn trusted me with her kid. That’s huge in my book, especially so early on in our friendship.
With his jersey in hand, I double check that he can wear it and then go find my own Hayes jersey. We check out, step outside the store and off to the side, and then I help Jackson put his jersey on before slipping mine over my head as well. He thanks me at least five times. Ready to go, we walk hand-in-hand to our seats. The guys are just coming onto the ice for warmups.
I pick Jackson up, so he can see better.
He bangs his hand on the glass. “Mr. EJ!” he shouts as EJ skates behind the net. EJ’s eyes widen as he sees the jersey. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me, so I’m assuming Raelynn talked to him early enough to let him know she wasn’t coming and I was.
“Hey, J-man,” he says.
I turn us a little, so EJ can see that Jackson is wearing his jersey. “He picked it out.”
“Thanks, Jackson. I think it’ll give me good luck.” He bumps his fist against the glass and skates off.
Jackson’s eyes follow him as he goes. “Do you think I’ll give him good luck?”
“We’ll have to wait and see.”
EJ taps B
rayden on the leg with his stick and motions over to us. The expression on Brayden’s mostly blank face barely changes. I flash my arm, so he can see his number, and smile, though he doesn’t smile back. He shakes his head as he lowers to the ice to stretch and I swear, he’s hiding a smile.
A little while later, Brayden skates over while the guys prepare to shoot some pucks. He doesn’t say anything, but he tosses a puck over the glass. I catch it and hand it to Jackson, whose eyes are wide as saucers.
“I can keep it?”
“I guess so.”
“Wow,” he whispers. He clutches the puck and holds it close to his chest. “Everything looks so much bigger,” Jackson mumbles, his face pressed against the glass. He suddenly frowns and looks at me. “Will the goal noise be louder down here?”
“That sounds the same everywhere.” At least, it should.
The guys shoot pucks and one of them hits the glass a few feet away, causing Jackson to jump and cover his ears from the loud thwack!
“I don’t like the loud noises,” he whispers to me.
Glass seats may not have been the best idea then. “Does it scare you?” I ask him.
He shakes his head, dropping his hands. “I just don’t like it.”
“There may be some loud noises here, but it’ll be okay. They won’t last long. Will that be okay?”
Jackson frowns, but eyes the guys on the ice as they begin to leave. “Yes.”
Whew. Good. Hopefully, that’s true. I don’t know kids or Jackson well enough to know how to react if he started freaking out or something, other than to leave. We sit and wait as the minutes count down for the game to start.
Jackson sits on the very edge of his seat, the excitement spilling from his every pore. He can’t stop smiling either. The anthem is sung and then the puck drops. The first chant of the night starts and I look down at Jackson.
“Let’s Go Rebels!” I shout and then clap my hands in time to the rest of the crowd. Jackson’s laughter causes me to smile widely. The kid is too cute. He shouts with me and the rest of the people in the arena on the next two chants.
He startles when two players crash into the boards in front of us, but after shrinking away, he moves forward, more captivated than ever. Thank goodness. He asks me what’s happening a few times, but I let the poor kid down because I have no idea what’s happening. There isn’t a broadcaster here telling me, giving me terms to use that I don’t quite understand.
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