25_Angels and Assists

by Mignon Mykel

  I stepped right to the automatic sliding doors and into Macy’s. “Do you have an idea of what you want to get him?”

  Mikey was right beside me. “I figured some clothes. New skates. Kid has this thing for bright green tape, so figured that could go in his stocking.”

  “What about for fun?” I slowed my walk, not really sure if we were shopping in the department store, or if he’d just wanted to meet here.

  “He plays hockey for fun.”

  I shook my head. “No, he plays hockey because he idolizes you and his best friends play, too. He plays hockey because it gives him something to do. He watches Marvel movies for fun. He plays video games for fun.”

  “Okay. Then something like that, too.”

  I glanced over at him. Surely, he wasn’t clueless over his own son…

  Mikey’s was looking ahead but he had the smallest of grins on his face.

  Of course, he caught me looking at him. “I know that he likes the Avengers, Moll. It’s the only movie series the kid watches.”

  That tease in his voice…

  I had a feeling this was going to be a long morning.

  * * *

  Surprisingly enough, I had a lot of fun shopping with Mikey.

  I saw a different side to him as we walked around the outdoor mall. He was lighter. Joked more. Put on floppy hats and bug-eye glasses and pretended to be a hipster in some stores. I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever seen Mikey so lighthearted.

  Not even when I’d first met him.

  He was lighter then, yes. He’d always happy, yeah.

  But this was a grown-up version and still…

  Different.

  I shouldn’t like it so much.

  As Mikey grabbed items from Abercrombie, and Apple, and Quiksilver, he asked for my opinion, and I helped pick out items that I knew Anderson would prefer. We even stopped at the adjacent AMC and grabbed a gift card there, for another stocking stuffer.

  Which had been my idea. It was supposed to be my gift to Anderson, because going to the movies was our “thing” but any item I tried to buy, Mikey took from me and paid for himself.

  “I’m getting him something!” I said, finally putting my foot down after we walked out of the freaking Lego store. He wouldn’t even let me buy Anderson the newest kit he’d been looking at!

  “We’ll put your name on some of these things,” Mikey answered, walking us back toward Macy’s.

  “You don’t need to buy presents for me, Mike.”

  He had the audacity to grin.

  Ass.

  Instead of walking into Macy’s though, Mikey moved to settle on one of the available benches, dropping the bags he carried to the ground.

  Guy wouldn’t even let me carry anything other than this small bag from Quiksilver, that held one shirt.

  “Sit down, Moll.”

  Grumbling, I did.

  My reaction made the man laugh.

  Ass.

  Hole.

  “You know, Moll,” he said, slouching back into the bench and stretching his long legs out in front of him. “You only call me Mike when you’re pissed at me. And you’re the only person in the entire world to do it.”

  “So?” I pulled on the front of my shirt after it got wedged between my hip and thigh from crossing one leg over the other.

  “Just an observation.” He crossed his arms over his chest and continued to look ahead of him, a slightly cocky grin on his face. He wasn’t quiet long. “You know when you first started to get super irritated with me?”

  “What is this, Mikey?” I asked, frowning at him.

  I knew exactly when my like of the man turned to irritation.

  Irritation at him.

  Irritation at being attracted to him.

  And because I was irritated, it was no longer fun I was feeling, and the tone of my words let him know that. “First you want to fire me, but before you do, you want to take a walk down memory lane? You want to rehash the last ten years? I mean, today’s been surprisingly good; knew it wasn’t going to last. We don’t do good.”

  “Oh. We do good.” Now Mikey pulled himself up and turned his upper body to face me, pushing his sunglasses up to the top of his head. “We do good really well. Let’s talk about the good.” He wouldn’t…

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about when you’re not avoiding me.”

  Now it was my turn to slouch. “I don’t avoid you.”

  “You have been.”

  “Yeah, because you said you were going to fire me!”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “No, you did. You said—”

  “I said we needed to talk about your job.”

  “Which basically means you’re going to fire me!” I fought to keep my voice low to not be overheard, even though I wanted nothing more than to yell them.

  “Not exactly.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  He didn’t answer right away.

  No, he looked at me—at my face—long and hard. So long, I had to stop from squirming in my seat. Why was he starting at me like that?

  However, I couldn’t just let him stare.

  No.

  I had to stare back.

  Try to make him as uncomfortable as I was feeling.

  But as I stared at him, I noticed things.

  Things like the man had freckles. Not many, not as many as his son, but they were there.

  Light, but there.

  And things like how his green eyes were oddly darker right now.

  I could remember one other time that his eyes took on that hue…

  It was quick.

  One moment he was staring at me across the kitchen counter, and the very next, he was pressed against me, his hands cradling my face as his mouth…

  God, his mouth…

  I’d only imagined how his lips would feel against mine, but the real deal was so much better than imagination.

  His lips pressed against mine, then he sucked, bit, nibbled. Eventually I opened my mouth and God…his tongue was brushing over mine, and mine was in his mouth, and…and…and…

  He pulled back, just enough for his eyes to search mine.

  Those pretty green eyes of his were dark…

  With desire.

  I didn’t need to feel the hard press of his cock to my stomach to recognize the want in his eyes.

  I swallowed hard and realized…

  My goodness, I wanted him too.

  I jerked myself back from the memory before things got embarrassing.

  Before my memory brought me further into what happened next—when he had my hand in his, leading me to his room.

  To his bed.

  His body doing things to mine…

  Mikey brushed his thumb over my lips and I jumped, startled.

  And realized my lips were parted.

  I pinched them together and ground my molars together.

  “You still feel it.”

  It was all he said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I forced out, turning my head, looking away—far away—from him.

  But I could feel him.

  Then I really could feel him, as he took his hand and turned my head, so my face was to his once again.

  “I don’t want to fire you, Molly, but I do want to talk about this thing that’s between us. Has been between us. And it’s not something we can explore while I’m paying you.”

  Of course, I had to go on the defensive. “There’s nothing between us.”

  “Where did your head just go to?”

  “Mike…”

  His lips quirked to the side.

  “…ey,” I finished.

  His grin only widened.

  “I’ll tell you where mine went to. It went to—”

  I lifted my hand and pushed my fingers to his lips. Too late, I realized my mistake.

  Or maybe, subconsciously I wanted to feel their fullness to my f
ingertips.

  Mikey moved his lips, just slightly, but it was enough to send nervous energy racing through my body, settling…

  Settling between my thighs.

  “So, you’re going to let me go so you can sleep with me, and then because things will be awkward once again, I’ll leave…again…but because Anderson is old enough, you won’t have to beg me to come back.”

  I tried to move my hand before he could speak—the feel of his lips moving over my sensitive fingertips was too much—but he gently circled my wrist before I could. “It wouldn’t be awkward.” He lifted my hand enough to press a kiss to my palm. If I thought my fingertips were sensitive to his lips, I wasn’t prepared for those lips to the center of my hand.

  “But you’d still ask me to leave,” I forced out, trying to keep my eyes locked on his.

  “I didn’t say that.” He moved my wrist back and I curled my fingers down, my nails pressing hard into my palm. But then he went and kissed my wrist, and I had to stop myself from wiggling in my spot.

  He had no idea what he was doing to me…

  Or, maybe he did.

  The glint in his eyes said he did.

  “Mikey, it was a mistake.” My words were whispered because…

  God, I hadn’t wanted it to be a mistake.

  After seeing him love Trina with everything he had, after watching him crumble to the ground only to fight to be the strong father he could be for his son, after watching him stand taller than he ever had before losing Trina…

  I’d wanted him.

  I’d ached for him.

  When I’d first met him, no, it wasn’t wanting him but rather, wanting the same thing he gave my friend. The love. The adoration. Surely, he wasn’t a one of a kind guy.

  Then, when I’d been with Curtis, I’d ached for my fiancé to treat me the way I’d seen Mikey treat Trina.

  But Curtis couldn’t give me that.

  That morning, when Mikey had taken my face in his hands and kissed me like his life depended on it…

  I’d simply.

  Wanted.

  Him.

  I wanted the rush of emotions he sent me through.

  I wanted the feel of his body over and around mine—I wanted that private moment I’d spied on, but I wanted it to be more personal.

  And he gave that to me.

  He gave me…

  Sex.

  Raw.

  Real.

  I’d never felt more wanted than I did when I was in his arms…

  Until he said Trina’s name.

  And I knew…

  I never wanted to take my friend’s place.

  And Mikey would never be able to move on from the one woman he loved with his entire being.

  I wasn’t going to be second place.

  I wasn’t going to be his second choice, the one he was with only because he literally could not be with the one he wanted to be with.

  I deserved better than that.

  And the best way to move on from that day was to realize just what I’d told him—

  It was a mistake.

  I shouldn’t have been in his bed with him.

  I was never going to be more to him than a warm body to sink into, and because of that, I’d put myself firmly into employee zone.

  He wouldn’t cross that line.

  The man was too honest for that.

  If there was one thing Mikey was good at, it was keeping morals and ethics in place.

  “It wasn’t a mistake,” Mikey said softly before bringing his face near, his lips nearly brushing my ear. To anyone passing by, it looked like he was sharing a secret with me. “Not a mistake, Moll.”

  “It was,” I answered stubbornly, but still, didn’t pull away. His face was close enough that I could feel his breath over my skin. I had to fight from falling back into memories. “You didn’t want me there.”

  “Lies. I wanted nothing more than you there, in my bed, in that moment.” He confirmed we were thinking about the same day.

  The same morning.

  The same moment.

  “That’s not how I remember it.”

  “Let me tell you how I remember it…”

  Chapter Eight

  Mikey

  I sat at the kitchen counter, nursing a cup of coffee as I waited for Molly to get back from dropping Anderson off at school and her daily Cross Fit session. I may have gotten home late last night after an away game, but I had another game tonight—we had a game damn near every Friday night—so she’d be back.

  She’d come back and do house things while I went to morning skate, then she’d leave the house while I napped; come home after picking up Anderson and right before I had to leave for the arena. She’d give me enough time to hang out with Anderson, but then I’d leave for the game, and she’d feed my eight-year-old before bringing him to the game closer to game warm-ups.

  It was what we did.

  What we’d been doing for years.

  And we were coming up on the anniversary of all of that; we were getting closer to the holidays…

  Fuck, I hated the holidays.

  I didn’t bother looking over my shoulder to see the giant tree Molly put up for Anderson’s benefit.

  It was the same damn artificial tree Trina bought. Molly kept good care of it; couldn’t tell that the thing was damn near eight years old, but I knew it was the tree she and my wife had picked out.

  Every year, she put the tree up even though every year, no one was in the house on Christmas day to enjoy it. Anderson and I would be heading up to Quebec after the game Tuesday, for a short two-day stay. It made more sense to go up than for both the Gagnons and Perris to come down.

  I wondered if Molly would want to head up, too; see the Perris again…

  Curtis.

  Fucking Curtis.

  Still hadn’t married Molly.

  When I last asked her about when she’d need time off for a wedding, she shrugged it off. “Still working out the details. Enjoying being engaged, you know?”

  No, I hadn’t known.

  Trina and I had hardly been engaged. I married her the moment I could.

  Because I’d loved her that hard.

  That deeply.

  Damn, I missed her.

  I focused on the hot liquid I sipped from my mug.

  I missed Trina, yes.

  But I was ready to move on. Ready to try and find again what I’d had with her; see if it was possible to love as deeply as I had once before.

  And if there was one person in the world I knew Trina would approve of…

  It was Molly.

  But fuck me, I couldn’t have her. Not with some other man’s ring on her finger.

  I heard the door open in the mudroom and put my coffee mug down. “Hey, Moll,” I called out. I stood from my stool and moved to the other side of the counter, pulling down a second coffee mug to fill for her.

  She liked it black, where I took mine with cream.

  It made me grin. Molly was no wilting flower.

  Dark, bold coffee, to follow her hour-long sessions at the gym.

  She was a beast.

  When she still hadn’t left the mudroom, I called out again. “You leave?” I joked.

  I heard the dryer door slam shut.

  Ah. Laundry.

  When she came out and passed through the living area, I noted how tired she looked. She needed the few days break that the holidays offered.

  “Coffee?” I asked, putting the mug of black coffee down on the counter top and pushing it toward her as she stopped.

  “Thank you,” she answered softly. Up close, I could see that it wasn’t tired that she looked, but sad.

  “You okay?”

  She shrugged and pasted a smile on her face. “Yeah. I’m golden.”

  “Your sarcasm is coming out,” I tried joking.

  Molly picked up her mug and took a cautious sip from it. It was only when she was lowering the mug that I noticed…

  Molly wasn’t wearin
g her ring.

  Frowning, I tore my eyes from her hand and took in her face.

  Her eyes were red-rimmed and while they weren’t swollen now, there was enough evidence in her eyelids that they had been before.

  “Molly?”

  She must have realized what I’d noticed, because she waved her left hand in the air dismissively. “It’s fine. Honest.”

  But that last word was almost choked off.

  “What happened?”

  She just shook her head, obviously not up to talking about it.

  I could leave well enough alone.

  I should leave well enough alone.

  But damn me and my curiosity.

  “Molly.”

  She sighed heavily and, with her eyes averted to the side, spoke softly. “We got into another fight at the gym. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of me still staying here. He’s been trying to get me to quit for a few months, but I honestly thought it would blow over.”

  It was my turn to frown. “You gave up your engagement because of Anderson?” That wasn’t necessary. He—shit, we—would have missed her, but we’d have figured it out.

  She shook her head, still avoiding eye contact. “No. I gave up my engagement because my fiancé was irrationally jealous,” she said, not sounding sad now, but pissed. “I gave up my engagement because my fiancé wanted me to completely change my life for him. I gave up my engagement because my fiancé wanted me to let go of—” She quickly cut herself off, dropping her chin to her chest.

  “Let go of what?”

  She shook her head, avoiding me. Avoiding the question.

  The timing was terrible but dammit, I’d just been thinking that had she not worn a ring on her finger, I’d talk to her. See if she could ever think of me like I often thought of her.

  So, while it was wrong of me—so fucking wrong of me—I saw an opportunity and decided to take it, damn the consequences.

  I cleared the few feet between us and took Molly’s face in my hands, bringing her face up and away from her chest, forcing her to look at me. I studied her eyes, watched as the amber depths focused, watched as her lips parted on a breath.

  Watched as she realized what was coming next.

  I gave her those moments.

  I let her figure it out.

  I let her eyes search mine, then drop to my lips…only to immediately come back to my eyes.

  And then I claimed her mouth with mine.