“Well, on that note, I’m off to kip!” He flipped off all overhead lights.
My laughter instantly subsided when darkness blanketed the room before he came back over to the bed.
Oh, no. I realized I’d totally killed the mood, and now he was going to sleep. That meant I should probably?—
“We’ll have another go at the universe rockin’ in the mornin’.”
Before I could even finish my thought about leaving, he climbed back into bed and hauled me against him, settling us into a new position—him on his back, me tucked against his right side with my head lying on his chest.
We lay there like that in the silent room—the sound of Mick’s heartbeat, calm and steady, beneath my ear. A peaceful feeling stole over me, replacing all the laughter and tears.
But then he asked, “How long were you with him, then?”
“Four years,” I answered after a moment of hesitation. “We were together for four years.”
Several more heartbeats passed before he answered. “That’s a long time.”
“Yeah, I know.” A fresh wave of regret washed over me. “It’s a long time to go out with someone without getting married.”
“Long time for any kind of relationship. Don’t even have mates I held onto that many years.”
“Maybe because you keep headbutting them?” I suggested with a teasing tone.
He chuckled, his chest rumbling underneath my ear. “Yeah, maybe. Coupla years ago, the boys in the big office had me do one of ’em anger management courses on account of me gettin’ in too many rows with the other members of my—I mean, the other blokes at work. They said if I continued on in the direction I was goin’, I’d have no decent relationships left in my professional life.”
“Did the course help?” I thought of the many Suns football players who’d been forced to take a few classes after game fights or charges had been filed. Nearly all of them had gone on to rack up even more game fights, criminal charges, or both.
“Actually, it did.” Mick’s voice took on a thoughtful note. “Maybe it was because I wanted it to work, though. After a while, all the fightin’s not so much fun anymore. Now I got mantras and such to keep me from blowin’ the lid off me pot. But I still don’t have many mates—at work or outside of it. Guess I got used to goin’ about in the world on my own.”
“I’m the exact opposite,” I admitted. “I’ve known a few of my friends since before kindergarten, and I love the people I work with. My boss bestie, Suzie, actually went to high school with me. She was the senior president of the math club, and I was the freshman treasurer.”
I softly smiled at the memory.
“Anyway, I’m a serious California girl. I was born and raised in Inglewood, and that’s where the Suns’ front office is, so now, I work there, too. Before I got my passport to come here, I’d never left the state—not to mention the country.”
“That’s nice.” His voice seemed a little wistful now. “You’ve got roots, don’t ya? Good family. Great life in L.A.”
“Nice, and not nice. I’m pretty unworldly, despite living in one of the most glamorous cities on Earth.”
I stroked the tangle of curls on his chest. “The Suns are a big deal in Los Angeles, and Dwayne thought he deserved the best. I’m pretty sure he cheated on me because I wasn’t sexy enough and didn’t dress like all the other football players’ girlfriends. A lot of them are TV stars and models, you know. And I tried, but at the end of the day, I was just… well, me.”
“Okay, enough of that.” Mick sighed and shifted me off his chest.
I jolted out of my confessional reverie, immediately realizing my mistake.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I said for, like, the umpteenth time that night. “I shouldn’t keep going on and on about my ex like that. This is supposed to be a one-night stand. Not a therapy session.”
"Listen, Kayla..."
Mick turned on his side to face me. But instead of pushing me away, his hands found my shoulders, and he dipped his head to look me in the eye.
“I’ve run into people like Dwayne before. I know the deal with ’em. The crowds build ’em up, right? Convince ’em they’re better than everyone else. Just ’cos they can handle a ball, they start to think they’re the soddin’ king of England. But I tell you what, Kayla, at the end of the day, it’s people like ’em who’re the idiots and people like you who are…”
He stopped.
But I wanted to know. “People like me who are what?”
“Never mind.” He flipped back over, returning to his pillow. “Let’s kip off.”
