Nora shot him a look but held her tongue. Bianca snored gently in the rocker, lost to the world. Sophia had bailed before halftime to walk Loco, muttering about burning off dinner.
I tried not to look at the beer in Josh’s hand. I hadn’t told him not to bring it—it didn’t feel fair—but temptation clawed at my throat. My blood sugar had spiked earlier and was now dipping. I’d had to take a shot. My stomach ached. The insulin always made me feel like I was underwater, everything slower, heavier. And one drink would make it worse.
I didn’t want to ruin tonight.
“Touchdown!” Abigail leapt up at the same time as Josh, their cheer bouncing off the walls.
I smiled at her. “Look at you, Mrs. Football Player Hater gone full fan girl.”
“Oh, shut up,” she said, chomping down on her cookie.
“I never thought I’d live to see this day.”
She glanced sideways, her eyes twinkling. “Right back at you. I could say the same.”
My gaze slid to Nick. He heard it, too. Felt the dig. The frown pulled at the corners of his mouth.
Anyone who knew me knew I would’ve never chosen this—tiny house, modest life, a man who couldn’t offer me diamonds or guarantees. But everything I’d once been offered was just…stuff.
Nick gave me things that money couldn’t touch. And I was just starting to understand what real wealth looked like.
“I’m going to grab some water. Does anyone want one?” “I’ll take one,” Abigail says, and Nick lifts his right arm without looking at me, his bicep flexing subtly under the light. My throat goes dry. I grab a bottle from the fridge, the cool blast hitting myflushed skin like a shock. On impulse, a teasing thought blooms, reckless and bold. I pull out my phone.
Should I sit on your lap, commando?
Nick: Horny?
I hesitate, fingers hovering before replying.
Maybe, but I also feel like we are acting like roommates. How would you act with your real wife in front of your family?
I’m not a huge PDA. But if you want me to be, I can be ;)
The playful wink shouldn’t affect me, but it does. Heat ignites deep in my core, throbbing low between my thighs.
Now bring that fine ass of yours over here and come sit on my lap. So you can feel me getting hard.
A sharp breath escapes me. God. He doesn’t hold back. My body responds before my mind can second-guess. Crossing the room, I feel the weight of his gaze drag over every inch of me like a touch. I hand him his water, fingers brushing his, and then lower myself onto his lap.
His thighs are solid beneath me, and I can feel the press of him exactly where he said I would. My body coils with awareness. A dangerous thrill. I try to focus on the game instead of the way my pulse is hammering.
Colt’s bouncing on his toes, hyped and ready. I turn to Abigail. “What the hell is he doing?”
“Making sure his blood flow is strong.”
“Who would have known Abs knows more about sports than you, Mel.” Josh teases, winking at me.
I stick out my tongue, laughing lightly, the ease between usfeeling like a fleeting echo of our college days. Back when things were simpler. Back when I didn’t question what was real.
Colt commands the team, then the play begins. The snap, the toss, a perfect pass. Abigail and Nora cheer beside me, our little group erupting with excitement.
The next play unfolds just as smoothly. Another first down. Abigail is on her feet, electric with energy.
“Yes! Two snaps, two first downs!” she shouts.
Josh lifts his beer. Everyone’s attention stays glued to the screen, cheers lingering in the air like static.
Then—chaos.
