“Yeah. I’m having to buy a lot of clothes and taking time to get them tailored when I don’t have a good one here isn’t high on my priority list. I want to dress in more than athleisure just in case we go out.” I glanced pointedly down at the t-shirt and shorts I had on.
He smiled but it immediately fell as if he’d just thought of something that upset him. “Did going out to the steakhouse make you feel some kinda way?”
“Um, not really but it had me realizing that I do better when my clothing fits the way I like it. You have me working out and stuff is shifting. It’s easier for me to take my clothes in than to take the time out of my day and spend unnecessary money when I have the skills to do it myself.”
“Is this a thing that you’ve always had to do?” He looked thoroughly confused and I couldn’t understand why because I was sure that Aldrich had a closet filled with custom and tailored clothing. He was dressed more casually now but I knew when the season started that Aldrich’s style would switch up because he would technically be back at work.
“Aldrich, let’s be real. And this has nothing to do with me thinking I’m fat or anything crazy like that. I might have a complex but I still know I’m beautiful. The world seems to have an issue with my body type, not me.”
The perusal he gave my form was anything but friendly before his eyes met mine. “Ain’t anything wrong with your body type, Sterling.”
The way his voice got huskier had me wanting to back up out of the room before I did something foolish. “Well, it’s not a hanger. And I like to buy quality clothing that won’t rip up after two washes. So I like to have them fit properly.”
“And you do it yourself? With a sewing machine?”
I giggled at the obvious surprise in his voice but I could tell he was impressed. “Yeah. I like to personalize the things that I buy if I’m not just making my own clothes from scratch.”
His brows shot up and he looked impressed by what I said. “You make your own clothes?”
“I have, yeah.”
He ran a hand over his curly as he shook his head. “Sterling, I need you to suck at something, ma, because you’re making me feel real unaccomplished as a human right now.”
“Millionaire, professional athlete whose name and face are a brand. And let’s not forget the newest addition, amazing father.” I ticked off his resume on my fingers like he needed to be reminded of who he was.
“But that shit is fleeting, everything but the father part. The shelf life on this money is ten good years at best no matter how much I work my body to ensure it stays in peak condition. But you’re making clothes, got two damn degrees and probably a host of other things I don’t know about.”
My heart seized because he was hitting too close to home and I needed us to get back on track. “You’re taking this out of context.”
“Nah, but don’t look at me crazy if I want you to make me something for a game.”
I couldn’t hide my surprise as I watched his face to see if he was teasing. “You can’t be serious. You don’t even know what kind of style I have.”
“You don’t strike me as a person who would dress their people in something out there they wouldn’t like. Besides, I have a person who pulls pieces for me and I really think he be putting me in the most out there shit he can find just because.” He motioned to his closet and by his frown I had to wonder if his shopper was someone who was just looking for a check.
“You had a stylist for some of those outfits from last year?” When I’d done that quick search of him before Ami got home I’d seen a lot of the photos the Desperados’ social media manager had done of him and his game day outfits. The segment of their page devoted to Suiting Up catalogued each of the players’ looks since they’d been on the team. It was a crazy idea but it lent itself not only to highlighting the family atmosphere of the organization but also to providing a standard for anyone who wanted to join the franchise. They even featured the members of the staff who wanted to take part.
He chuckled at my words and I had to wince because they came off far harsher than I wanted them to. “Damn, that seems like judgment. I can see I didn’t impress you much.”
I shrugged since placating him was clearly what they did. I wasn’t going to lie on those outfits because some were trash. “Some of them were good. But I’m a firm believer of only repping a brand’s labels if they’re paying you to do it. If not, you’re just giving people free advertising, and I’ve never understood that.”
“So let me guess you didn’t grow up wanting a closet full of designer handbags like other girls.”
I cringed because the truth was I hadn’t. I already possessed a closet full of designer bags so it wasn’t a big deal to me.My great-aunt had a phenomenal handbag collection from the eighties and nineties. My cousins always felt like vintage things were too far beneath them so when she cleaned her closets I took what she didn’t want. There was very little I needed regarding the classics and the life I tried to live now didn’t call for buying bags just for the status. Of course, they wouldn’t be out-of-place now would they?
“No, I didn’t have those dreams.”
He grinned like someone would at a kid doing a good job. “You’re always going against the grain. Since you’re dancing around it, what had you going to alter your shit?”
I folded my arms as the discomfort of my reason washed over me. We’d shared a lot and even though I knew there was something that he was still holding back, I wasn’t too ashamed of being honest and sharing. “My mother.”
“Her again?” The look on his face was the one he’d worn when that reporter approached us. His protector instincts were heightened even against something that had already happened.
“My mother is a woman who wanted a big, tall, handsome man as a husband and she got him.”
He nodded and I’m sure that sentiment was one that was more than familiar to him from the opposite sex. “I’m not seeing a problem.”
I smirked because few people thought of genetics when picking a partner. “A lot of women don’t understand that their daughters can get the same genes that they wish for their sons.”
