“Love tap, my ass.” I grab him and pull him on top of me. “Come here.” Seth rests his chin on my chest, and I finger back his sweaty bangs. “Hey, gorgeous.”
He smiles back. “Hey.”
“You were hot as fuck. Next time, we need to use a mirror or something so you can see how hot you are.”
“I like that.”
“Like what? Mirrors?”
He nods as his face blooms red. “I masturbate in front of my mirror.”
“Pfft, and you keep saying you’re vanilla. I’m calling BS on that from now on.”
Seth reaches for my lips with his, and I lift my head to kiss him. “Happy birthday, Joker.”
“I got you a gift, too, by the way,” I tell him.
“But it’s not my birthday.”
I shrug. “It’s really for us. And I didn’t wrap it or anything. It’s at my house.”
“What is it?”
“It’s for when the kids are home, and we want to fool around.” Seth perks up and grins. “I got us tripods for our phones that come with a light. Instead of having phone sex, we can watch each other on our screens in real time.”
“Thatishot.”
“I can’t wait to see your face turn red as you come for me on camera.”
He chuckles and kisses the tip of my nose. “I have a feeling life’s never going to be dull with you around.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Brae!” I call upfrom the bottom of the stairs.
“Yeah?”
“Want to help me make homemade spaghetti?”
“Yeah.”
“You have an amazing way with words, kiddo,” I say and head off into the kitchen to pull out all the ingredients and utensils we’ll need.
While I start chopping up some bell peppers, music suddenly fills the house. I stop, set down the knife, and close my eyes that are filling with tears.
The piano arrived a couple of weeks ago, but Braeden had yet to play it.
Fuck, my heart. It aches in the best possible way.
I pour myself a glass of white wine and step out of the kitchen, quietly making my way into the living room. I sit down on the couch and sip my drink as I watch Braeden play. His profile is serious, and his fingers move quickly over the keys like a fucking expert.
The song is familiar, but I’m not sure what it’s called. It’s clearly classical.
He looks over at me, gives me a brief smile, playing without stopping.
After a few minutes, he stops and rests his hands on the piano. “It feels good to play again.”
“I’m so glad you did. You’re incredibly talented, Brae.”
