“Yes. We have to bake cookies, build a snowman, turn on the lights on the Christmas tree, pick the perfect place to leave treats for the reindeer, and probably have some sexy time.”
“Probably?” he asks, cupping my ass.
“Definitely. One hundred percent.”
We dry out as much as we can be bothered to and then go to Riley’s bed. I try not to overthink it because my mind and heart are pushing all these wonderful thoughts about a lifetime of bliss with my Coach. So before my brain starts planning my own wedding without my consent, I get under the sheets and cuddle up to him.
“Hmm, you’re the perfect big spoon,” I say, yawning again.
“You’re perfect.”
He wraps his arms around my waist, and as I drift off to sleep, I hope we haven’t taken too many steps too fast. Because going from straight to sleeping naked with a man in less than twelve hours has to be a record.
Go, Bubble!
Thank you, Grandma. You really are the best.
19
COACH
I wakeup lying on my back with Bubble wrapped around me as if he’s afraid I’ll run away while he’s sleeping.
Mel was never a cuddler in bed. Always complained I was too hot and made her sweaty. She liked to talk before bed, and we never had an issue with our sex life. But when it came to sleeping, she turned away and fell asleep like I wasn’t even there.
Bubble shivers a little, so I pull the covers up to his shoulders. He lets out a contented sigh.
Feeling someone in my arms in bed is nice. It’s Christmas Eve, it’s cold outside but warm under the covers, and I wonder how long we can stay like this before he wakes up. He seems to have quite an ambitious schedule for today, not including his plans for us.
Christ, what turn has the world taken that I have a man in my arms and everything feels just right? Why am I not freaking out over this? He called it our Christmas bubble. Is that why? Because while we’re here, we’re safe, and no one has to know?
I don’t want to be that person. Too many of my players have been in that situation, and I’ve watched as fake girlfriends turned up for events while their long-term partners were at home.
While it wasn’t my place to make them come out before they were ready, I have control over my life. From the conversation with my parents, I already know they’d accept me being with a man, and I have no doubts about my work.
It’s really all down to me. Am I ready if the only person that makes me feel this way is young enough to be my son?
Bubble makes the cutest sound and stretches like a cat. When he opens his eyes and looks at me, his smile takes my breath away.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Riley.”
“Merry Christmas Eve, Curtis.”
He stretches up to kiss me, and I help him by placing my hands on my current favorite place on his body. His ass. I’m sure I’ll find other favorite places, but I haven’t had a chance to explore yet.
“My name doesn’t sound so awful when you say it,” he says.
“What people call you is an extension of who you are. Most people call me Coach because it’s all I am.”
He rests his chin on my chest. “No. It’s all you let people see. Like Bubble. You’re the only one who’s seeing Curtis. I must be slipping.”
“Maybe, but football has been my whole life. Nothing else has mattered as much, so I guess even I’ve started to see myself as only Coach.”
He frowns, but then his expression changes again. “We should have breakfast. Come on, I’ll make you pancakes.” He jumps off the bed like he’s on springs.
I sit up and watch as he debates on the perfect Christmas Eve outfit. When he’s finally satisfied that his painted-on green jeans and white sweater with the Christmas decorations are it, he turns around.
“What are you doing still in bed?”
