Was it smug? I don’t know.
We sit with Grams at the reception. She barely sees us.
Sugar leans down to kiss her forehead. “How are you, Grams?” she asks.
“Tired,” Grams answers.
Sugar meets my eyes and then looks at Steak. We know she doesn’t just mean physically. She’s spiritually tired. She’s ready to go. But Mom being Mom, doesn’t want her to. I think we all know Grams is holding on because her daughter isn’t ready to say goodbye.
We keep Grams entertained, ignoring the rest of what’s happening around us. I think it’s huge when we manage to get Grams laughing.
At some point, Saffron approaches and gives Grams a hug. Then she looks at us with the same smile. “I’m really glad you could make it.”
“We’re not here for you,” Sugar declares, and we all watch as Saffron jerks like she’s been slapped. “We’re here to see Grams and to support Steak.”
Saffron’s lips tremble as she looks at me and Steak. She doesn’t speak as she turns and, predictably, dramatically, races off as she covers her face.
I half expect Mom or someone else to come over and try to scold us. No one does. I think everyone knows that we’re more than prepared to cause a scene should they decide we shouldn’t have made Saffron cry on her wedding day.
Right or wrong, we’re here for one reason. Grams doesn’t even appear upset during the short confrontation. In fact, when I turn back to her, she’s looking at us with amusement.
We don’t talk about it. We remain with Grams until she truly is tired and needs to go back to the assisted living home she’s in. If I had one regret about moving to California, it’s that I don’t get to see Grams as much as I’d like to, and I know my time is running out.
I went to California as soon as I got the job offer at RDU, and Sugar followed. Steak headed north to Seattle, leaving the rest of our family behind. I’m sure there are whispers that the three Frost kids left without looking back because of Saffron and our mother and stepfather basically acting like they had a single child instead of four.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m slightly exaggerating. It’s not like we had a bad childhood. We weren’t neglected or forgotten about. We weren’t treated poorly. But we also weren’t treated equally, either.
By the time we’re at the hotel and stepping into the elevator, I think we’re all wiped. There’s no staying up tonight and bickering. I’m heading for bed.
When I step off the elevator and pick my head up, I come to a complete stop as I stare ahead. I’m not really seeing him though, right? I crave his touch so badly that I’m manifesting him here.
But as I stand there, I watch as Hansley picks up his head and takes a breath before stepping into a room. I hear the loudclackof the door as it closes. Without looking away so I don’t lose the spot where he vanished, and without blinking to make sure I don’t, I abandon my mission to go to bed and find myself standing in front of the door.
CHAPTER 24
HANSLEY
Third win. My team is on fire. I sit back and watch as they crowd around the bar area at the hotel and celebrate. They’re excited and loud, but not rowdy. I appreciate that they have some decorum. They truly are good guys. All of them.
Seth and Hakeem sit at the end, their heads huddled together as they steal kisses from time to time. I half wonder if Seth’s broken it off with the other three he was seeing. Or were there more than three at that point?
They shift when Leo drops into the chair Hakeem had been in before he got up to stand between Seth’s legs. I can’t hear them, but I can see by the way Leo is gesturing that he’s recapping something in the game. Seth and Hakeem don’t appear put out because he’s there. Interrupting their moment.
By the timeI get up to my room, I’m tired. I rub my eyes as I step out from the elevator. It’s a large hotel, so there are three and another closes next to me, swallowing voices as they get carried away.
The floor I’m on is quiet, thankfully. I’m not sure if there aren’t any of my players on this floor or maybe it’s late enough where everyone’s ready to sleep. Even with the excitement of winning three of three games.
I push my door open and take a deep breath as I step into my room. As it turns out, I’m not a fan of silence. At least by the time I turn into the guest room at Alka’s, I’m already half asleep.
As I should be now, but everything just feels so heavy.
The door is loud when it closes behind me. I wince and wonder why the doors have to be built so heavy that they sound like someone’s breaking through them every time they close. Sure, fire barrier and all that shit, but let’s be honest. If a fire is outside my door, I’m going to die before I get out because Americans can’t be trusted with windows that open, so it’s not like we can escape that way, either.
I toss my suit jacket onto the chair and pause when there’s a knock at my door. Frowning, I turn around to stare at it. Maybe one of my players needs something? I’d think they’d just text me, but a quick glance at my phone says that’s not the case, though.
Pulling the door open, I’m shocked to find Lemon standing there looking like dessert in a tight getup that’s practically painted on and showing a very pretty and promising outline of his cock. I raise a brow when my gaze lands on the brightly painted chicken purse in his hand.
“Lemon?” I ask.
