Only One Mistake, page 17
“Same.” I smile at him. “As long as he or she comes out healthy and a normal size, I think it’s all I can ask for.” He laughs. “Who the hell gives birth to an eleven-pound child?”
“My mother.” He chuckles. “I think Zara and Zoe were eight pounds and six pounds.”
“That’s fourteen pounds of babies.” My tone is shock.
He gets up and starts cleaning up the counter, and I ignore the need to tell him to stay longer. I ignore everything, putting up a solid front. “Okay, one last question,” he says once the counter is clean.
“And go.” I look over at him as I’m washing my hands.
“What did the doctor mean by how are the hormones?” he asks, and I grab a dish towel to dry my hands. I scratch my head. My nipples are already ready to be played with.
“Why can’t you ask me another question?” I groan, and he claps his hands.
“I knew it was a good one,” he jokes. “What is it?”
“I don’t know why you even care.” I try not to look at him, but again, something about him just pulls me in.
He puts his hands on his hips and raises his eyebrows. “I’m not leaving here until you tell me.”
Don’t tell him, my head screams. If you don’t tell him, maybe he’ll stay. I close my eyes as I gather up the courage to tell him. “It’s just that when you’re pregnant,” I start, avoiding looking at him. I look out toward the living room. “Your body gets extra hormones.”
“Okay,” he says, not happy with the answer I just gave him.
“And well, these extra hormones can, you know.” I move my head back and forth, hoping he picks up on what I’m trying to say.
“You know.” He mimics my head moving back and forth.
“Oh, good God,” I snap at him. “It’s made me horny,” I finally say and close my eyes, putting my hands on my face. His laughter fills the room, and I swear I want to die. “Stop laughing,” I mumble, moving my hands from my face. “It’s really not funny.”
“You’re horny?” he asks.
“I’m not horny right now, like this minute.” I fold my arms over my chest to hide the way my nipples have become hard. The last thing I want him to know is that I want to climb him like a tree. “But I have been occasionally in the last couple of weeks.”
“So you’ve…” He smirks, looking down at my lady town. “You’ve been playing?”
“Okay, time for you to go,” I deflect, walking to the door and opening it. “Thanks for dinner.”
He walks to the door, the smile on his face even bigger than before. “If you want, I can help you out before I leave.” Yes, my body yells in my head. Just lie in the middle of the bed and let him help you. He put you in this situation, so it’s only fair he helps you out.
“Suddenly, I’m the opposite of horny,” I lie through my teeth. I look down at lady town. “Yup, totally like shriveled up.” I close my eyes. “I’m going to shut up. You can go.” When I open my eyes, he’s still there in front of me, but this time really close to me.
“Well…” His hand comes up to my chin. “I’m the opposite of shriveled up.” My eyes go against me, and I look down to see his cock ready to come out and play. “Lock up after me.” He bends his head, and my eyes close, waiting for his lips to hit mine. Instead, I feel his lips on my forehead. “See you tomorrow,” he says when my eyes flutter open. I watch him walk away from me, and he turns to face me, walking backward. “If you need me in the middle of the night.” He smirks. “Call me.”
Chapter 29
Michael
“Horton!” The coach yells my name, and I jump over the board, sliding on the ice, going on the attack. Manning brings the puck up, slowing down his speed so we can all get into the zone at the same time.
Manning slaps the puck at the goalie, but he sticks his legs. The puck bounces off it and goes into the corner. I hustle around the guy in front of me and head toward the net. Cooper is the first at the puck as he passes it back to Manning at the blue line. He turns his body, faking to pass it to the other defenseman, but instead, he passes it back to Cooper in the corner. Out of the corner of his eye, Cooper sees me slip right in front of the goalie. Cooper doesn’t even keep the puck on his stick for a second before sliding it to me. My stick comes out just a touch to tip it right over the goalie’s shoulder.
I see the puck hit the back of the net and the red light siren goes off at the same time as the fans jump to their feet. I skate to the boards, and Cooper comes over and punches my arm. “That was all Grandpa,” he says of the play he taught us when we used to scrimmage with him.
Manning comes over. “Nice little play, you two,” he says to me, and we all skate to the bench, going down the line to give everyone a high five.
“We’ve got five more minutes,” the coach says when I get back on the bench. I look up at the Jumbotron in the middle, showing we are up by two. With two minutes to go, they pull the goalie, and Manning gets the puck and clears it to their end, scoring an empty-net goal and giving us a three-goal lead.
The horn goes, and we all make our way over to the goalie. After I knock my helmet with the goalie, I skate to the middle of the ice as we wait to thank the fans for coming like we do all home games. My eyes go up to the box where I know she is sitting. She stands there with Julia beside her, and they are both clapping.
A smile fills my face when I see the smile on hers. Julia leans over and says something to her, making her throw her head back and laugh. I skate back to the bench, getting off the ice. After placing my stick with all the other sticks, I make my way back toward my spot. Grabbing one of the Gatorades from the middle of the room.
Coach comes in before the press does. “Cooper, Michael.” He points at us as we sit side by side. “Not sure where that play comes from but good fucking play.”
I smirk and look over at Cooper, who holds his fist up to me. I fist-bump him, laughing. “It’s a family play,” Cooper boasts, smiling as the coach just nods at us and walks out of the room before the press descends on us.
“To be born into hockey royalty,” Wilson says, getting up and taking off his shirt to walk toward the showers.
“He has sex every single night,” I say, getting up. “You would think he would be less frustrated.”
Cooper gets up next to me. “Maybe they don’t let him finish.”
“Or maybe he’s just an asshole,” I reply, shaking my head as my phone beeps.
Jillian: Do you want us to wait for you?
I look over at Cooper. “I’ll be right back,” I say, grabbing my phone and walking out of the room. Dialing her number, she answers right away. “Hi.” I lean against the concrete wall.
“Hey,” she huffs, and I can hear all the people around her as she tries to make it out of the arena.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be, and I know you have school in the morning.” I turn, wishing I could see her if only for a second. “What time do you leave for work in the morning?”
“I have to leave tomorrow at eight,” she says.
“Would it be okay if I brought breakfast to you?” I say softly. “I leave tomorrow at ten.”
“I’m up at six thirty,” she says.
“I’ll see you then,” I confirm, wanting to talk to her longer but knowing I have to get back into the room. “Okay, I have to go meet the press.”
“Out of all the excuses I’ve ever had from a man, that has never been one of them.” She laughs.
“Good to know I stick out.” The pit of my stomach burns.
“Oh, you stick out all right.” She laughs. “See you tomorrow.” I disconnect the call and walk back into the room.
“You okay?” Cooper asks me when I sit back down. “You look like someone kicked your dog and stole your cat.”
I look down at my skates. “Yeah, just…” I shake my head when the press comes into the room, pushing Jillian to the back of my mind.
When I get back home, I pack my bag and slide into bed, turning to look out the window at the black sky. The one lone star in the sky blinks as my mind spins around and around, and I try not to think about what is really bothering me. My eyes drift to sleep, and when the alarm rings at five thirty, I fly out of bed, slipping on black dress pants and a white button-down shirt. It’s a travel day, and we have to travel casually.
I’m out of my apartment by six o’clock, loading the SUV with my travel bag. I make my way over to Jillian’s, stopping by the same place I got her food the last time I showed up at her house. By the time I’m parking the SUV, it’s six thirty-three.
Getting out of the SUV, I take a look around and notice how quiet it is. I try not to make too much noise when I knock on the door. The door opens softly, and I see that the apartment is still dark. “Hi,” she grumbles as she wipes the sleep away from her face. “Sorry, I just got up.”
My heart speeds up. “I can go,” I say, ignoring the burning that starts again at the pit of my stomach. “I can leave the food, and you can go back to bed.”
“No.” She reaches out her hand to grab my arm. “Don’t go.” Her voice is soft as she pulls me into the apartment. “Let me just go to the bathroom.” She walks toward the bathroom. “Make yourself at home.”
I put the bags on the counter, taking out the containers as I listen to water running in the bathroom. Something in my chest feels heavy, and I don’t even know how to explain it if someone asked me. Grabbing two plates and utensils, I put them on the counter and sit on the stool waiting for her, nervously tapping the counter.
My head turns to look at her when I hear the door open. She comes out with her hair piled on top of her head. Her black-and-white shorts are loose on her, and she has a pink T-shirt that says Let Me Sleep. “I should have called,” I say when she gets on the stool beside me.
“I had the alarm set.” She turns to look at me, the sleep still in her eyes. “But it just took me a while to fall asleep last night.”
“Was everything okay?” I ask as worry sets in.
“Yeah, it was fine. It was the high of the win.” She smiles at me. “What an adrenaline rush it must be.”
“It’s always good to win,” I agree, grabbing her plate and putting food on it. “A lot better than losing.”
“How do you turn it off?” she asks. “Like do you get home and are wired?”
“Yeah,” I answer her honestly. “It takes a couple of hours to relax by the time I get home. I usually eat something.” When I hand her the plate, her fingers graze mine, and I ignore the pull to her. “Then I turn on the television and just flip through channels until I’m tired.”
“What time did you go to bed?” she asks, grabbing a piece of bacon and chewing on it.
“Last time I saw the clock, it was after three.” Grabbing a piece of toast, I take a bite.
“Aren’t you tired?” I nod at her.
“But I can sleep on the plane.” I scoop some eggs on my plate. “It’s a five-hour flight to Vancouver.”
“How long are you there for?” She grabs her fork and takes a bite of the eggs.
“We get there today, and the game is tomorrow. Then we leave Vancouver right after the game and head to LA.” I try to remember the schedule. “We play LA the day after, then San Jose the day after that, and then we get back.” She just looks at me with her mouth open. “Then I’m home for ten days.”
“My hat’s off to you guys.” She smiles. “I don’t know how you do it.”
The rest of the breakfast flies by faster than I want it to, and I know I have to get going, or she’s going to be late. I get up and take our plates to the kitchen, rinsing them off and putting them in the dishwasher. “Thanks for having breakfast with me.”
She gets up. “Thank you for wanting to have breakfast with me.” She waits for me near the door.
“I’ll call you tonight,” I say, trying to gather up the courage to kiss her. My hand goes to the handle of the door.
“Text me when you land.” She looks up at me as I stand here in the doorway of her apartment. “Just so I don’t worry.”
I smirk at her. “You worry about me.” My hand comes up, going to her face as my thumb rubs her soft cheek. “I like that.” My voice goes into a whisper as my face also leans down, and I want to kiss her so bad, but I’m not sure she wants me to. My lips go to her cheek. “I’ll text you later.” I look at her, and all she can do is nod. I smile and walk out of her apartment with my shoulders feeling like they’re holding up a thousand pounds. I wait for her to call me back, hoping she calls me back, but nothing.
When I get into the SUV, I start it and drive away from here before I do something stupid. Stopping at the red light, I connect my phone and call Dylan. “How are you up?” he asks, laughing.
“Travel day,” I respond, making my way toward the airport.
“Saw that little play last night.” He laughs, making me laugh.
“You watching my game?” I tease him.
“Did you not read the group text that Granddad sent?” he asks, and I look down, seeing I’ve missed a hundred and one messages. “Who taught him how to do a group message?” I chuckle. “I had to put it on ‘do not disturb’ because it was going off every five seconds.”
“He was just proud,” I say, and then my voice trails off. “I just left Jillian’s.”
“And?” He knows I have a lot more to say.
“And I really fucking like her,” I admit, the lump in my chest getting heavy again. “Like really fucking like her.” I shake my head. “I left, and all I wanted to do was to kiss her, but I didn’t.” I’m upset with myself for not just taking the kiss I wanted. “What do you think I should do?”
“Here is a crazy thought.” He stops, and I wait for it. “Why don’t you tell her?” I roll my eyes, not saying a word. “Dude, she’s having your kid.”
“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t want me like that?” I ask. The fear that she doesn’t is almost too much to bear.
“What if she does?” He turns it around on me. “What if she does want you like that, and she’s waiting for you to make a move, but you’re too busy jacking off? Instead of being like ‘I like you, you like me.’”
“Wow, powerful. Did you read that in this month’s Cosmo?” I chuckle as I get to the airport.
“Laugh, but you’ll be thanking me later,” he huffs out. “Also, who the hell is your sister dating?”
“What?” I ask, shocked. “I didn’t know she was dating anyone.”
“She posted a picture of her with a guy on her Insta,” he fills me in.
“It could be a friend.” I grab my phone and look over to see that people are loading the plane already. “Okay, I got to go.”
“Tell her!” he yells right before I hang up the phone.
“Yeah, tell her,” I mumble to myself, getting out of the SUV and grabbing my stuff. “Just tell her.”
Chapter 30
Jillian
Michael: Just landed. You can stop thinking about me.
I laugh at the text and answer him back.
Me: New phone, who dis?
I laugh, waiting for his reply as the kids come back into class from music. I look up and see that the bell is going to ring in a couple of minutes. I get up and make them grab their bags and start the routine of when they leave. Twenty minutes later, I’m packing up my own bag when the phone pings.
Michael: Want to have dinner with me?
I sit in my chair and answer him back right away.
Me: I would love nothing more.
I press send before I can think about it or harp on it or tell myself it’s a bad idea. When he left this morning, I wanted nothing more than to get on my tippy-toes and kiss him. The flutters in my stomach had nothing to do with the baby moving and everything to do with the man standing in front of me. I wanted to yell at him to come back. But I let him go. I felt his touch on my cheek while I got dressed. The whole day, I could see him in my head, wondering if he fell asleep on the plane or not.
Getting home, I walk in, and I can’t put my finger on it, but just feel like it’s missing something. Walking to the bedroom, I kick off my shoes, move to the bed to grab my pjs, and make my way to the shower.
Slipping off my pants and shirt, I look at myself in the mirror. My breasts have gotten bigger for sure, my nipples darkening. My stomach is much bigger than when he was with me, and I’m assuming so is my butt. Maybe he doesn’t find me attractive, I think to myself, the thought making my stomach burn. Maybe it was just a one-night thing for him, and I should let it go. The maybes drive me crazy, and I finally give in to the tears that come. There is just so much that is unknown, and to me, it drives me crazy. I’m the one with the plans all the time. I’m the one who knows what I’ll be doing in five years. I’m the one who had everything mapped out. Except for the baby. I rub my stomach. “We’ve got this,” I say to him or her as I rub cream on my stomach to prevent stretch marks.
Brushing my hair out, I braid it to the side of my head. I can hear my phone ringing from my bedroom. I run to it and see that Michael is trying to FaceTime me. I press connect without even thinking twice about it. The little circle going around and around telling me it’s connecting.
His face fills the screen, his smile falling when he takes one look at me. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone tight and his eyes fill with worry.
“Nothing,” I say, confused as I look at his blue eyes. His forehead creases as he just stares at me.
“You look like you’ve been crying.” His voice goes soft as his eyes roam my face as if he’ll be able to tell something. “Are you hurt?” He gets up from wherever he was. “Is it the baby?”
“No, no,” I deny, feeling silly. “The baby is fine.” I put my hand on my stomach and show him that it’s still perfect. “See, still okay?” I fake smile, and he just stares at me, waiting for it. “It’s nothing.” I shake my head. “Where are you?”
“In my hotel room.” He sits up, and I can tell he’s shirtless. I wonder how long he’s been in bed. I wonder if he’s naked or with his boxers on. The thought of him being naked sends shock waves through me. “Why were you crying?”
