“Mm-mmm!” I squeak my disapproval, smacking his hand away with a giggle before tearing my lips from his. “No! We need to get out of here before someone films me riding you in a public parking lot.”
“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, adjusting his very noticeable erection. “You can’t say shit like that. Now we need to wait for this to go down.” I snicker when he points to the offending appendage, kind of proud of myself for getting him hard with just a kiss.
Mama’s still got it…sweatpants and all.
Ten minutes later, we’re walking through the mall’s main entrance, a hundred eyes glued to our every move. I expected it, considering I’m in a very busy place with one of the city’s most recognizable athletes, but still. It’s making me hot…and itchy.
“You doing alright, Mama?” Theo asks quietly as we head in the direction of the maternity boutique. His hand twitches at his side, balling into a fist, and I know it’s because he’s fighting the urge to touch me. I appreciate that he’s respecting my wishes, but also, I could really use the comfort. He may be used to people staring and whispering when he passes by, but I’m not. It’s a lot to process.
“Yeah,” I reply, not wanting him to worry as we make our way through the crowd. I try to ignore the mumbling voices of two girls behind us, but it’s hard with how close they are.
“Holy shit, that’s Theo Calloway.”
“Is that his girlfriend or something?”
“Maybe she’s his sister. If he were dating someone, we’d know.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Should I ask for his number? He’s hot as fuck.”
“Oh my God, I dare you.”
Unable to stop myself, I whip around, dragging my glare from one to the other. Their eyes go wide like they’re shocked that I heard them, but I know better. They wanted to get his attention, but they got mine instead. And for some reason, I’m ready to roundhouse kick them both in their perfectly made-up faces. I probably look like a rabid animal with the daggers I’mshooting in their direction, but it’s like I’m outside of my body, ready to tear them apart for talking about him like we aren’t two feet in front of them.
“Nope,” Theo says with a low chuckle, placing a hand on each shoulder and turning me back around just in time to see the store in front of us. He ushers me through the entrance and straight to the counter as I continue to fume with anger.
“Hi,” he greets the cashier, his signature charming smile on full display. “I’m Theo Calloway. I called earlier about purchasing some maternity clothes. The woman I spoke to said that she’d set up a private fitting area for us.”
I stand there dumbfounded and gaping like a fish because I had no idea he put so much effort into bringing me out today. Not even twenty-four hours ago, I was in front of the mirror wondering how all my stuff became unwearable practically overnight, and now I’m standing in a store, apparently about to be taken to a private dressing room.
“Yes!” the woman says, her eyes landing on me. “You must be Finley. We put some options in the back for you, but please don’t hesitate to ask if they don’t work. It’s the last room on the right, and if you need assistance, just push the button beside the door.”
She raises a hand, pointing toward a short hallway. Theo thanks her before placing a gentle hand on my lower back and ushering me away, not removing his touch until I pass through the entrance to the larger-than-normal fitting room. My attention bounces from the plush loveseat in the corner to the table that’sdecorated with pink flowers, a lavish fruit tray, and a bottle of sparkling grape juice with two crystal champagne flutes. A rack of clothing stands across the far wall, which has a gold-framed full-length mirror propped against it. Being a simple girl who was raised on leftovers and hand-me-downs, I’veneverseen anything quite like this.
“I can’t believe you did all this for me,” I say as a quietsnickfollowed by the sound of the door’s lock engaging fills the space. “It’s beautiful.” When he doesn’t reply right away, I turn toward him, only to be met with a devilish smirk as he stalks toward me.
“Fuck the room,” he replies, my feet shuffling backward as he approaches, only stopping when I bump into the wall behind me. He cages me in with a hand on either side of my head, causing my heart to pound wildly behind my rib cage. Suddenly, the space we’re in is too small, and there isn’t nearly enough oxygen in it.
Bringing a pointer finger to my chest, he slowly trails downward, leaving a fiery path between my breasts. My nipples peak against the inside of my bra, begging to be set free and played with. “Why don’t we rewind a bit?” he rasps, staring at his own hand as it descends. “Wanna tell me why you were about to go scorched earth on those girls out there? Was it because they thought you were my sister?” He leans in, his lips just inches from mine. The soft scent of his laundry detergent makes my head spin, and I have to fight to stop my eyes from fluttering closed. “Or because you were jealous that they wanted my number?”
Shit on toast.
Nailed it.
As much as I’d love to act unaffected, it’s impossible with the way his fingertips are plucking at the string of my sweatpants—his sweatpants—while I try to come up with an answer to his question. I’ve been telling myself for weeks that I’m just enjoying our fun, flirty relationship. That I couldn’t let my feelings get in the way of what we have. But I’d be a dirty liar if I said that jealousy wasn’t the cause of my reaction. I like Theo…a lot. And now that our connection has gone to the next level, I hate the thought of him with anyone else.
Knowing that it’s pointless to feed him a line of bullshit, I decide to avoid the question, turning it back on him. “Do youwantme to be jealous?”
He chuckles, his warm, minty breath dancing across my parted lips. “Baby, you can be jealous all you want. It feeds the fuck out of my ego. But to be clear, it’s not necessary. Now that I’ve tasted how sweet you are, I’m goddamn addicted.”
He drops his mouth to mine, both hands coming up to hold my face as he kisses me senseless. My fists ball over the material of his sweatshirt, pulling him as close as possible, but even that doesn’t seem like enough. Every ounce of frustration inside me fizzles away, our tongues tangling while hushed moans and whimpers echo around us. Nothing that happened before we came in here matters, because he’s with me, whispering all the reassuring words I didn’t even know I needed.
He retreats, resting his forehead against mine as we catch our breath. His thumbs ghost along my cheeks ina soft and comforting gesture—one that has my chest swelling with so much happiness.
“You’re so fucking special to me, Finley,” he whispers. “I feel like I’ve waited a lifetime for you. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
I nod, a thick ball of emotion clogging my throat. I wasn’t raised to express my feelings, and I’ve never been one to wear my heart on my sleeve, but I hope he knows what he means to me. He offers unwavering friendship and a safe space where I can just be me without fear of judgment. I know that no matter how dark things may seem, I’m not alone—because he’s shown me time and time again that he’s ready to hold my hand through it all.
“Alright then, scrappy,” he says, the dimple I love so much sinking into his cheek. “Let’s find you some clothes that make you feel as beautiful as I know you are.”
