“Are you sure about that? What if you see him fresh out of the shower and shirtless?”
I’ll be turned on. I know for a fact because it’s happened a few times. And every time it makes my core ache with need at the sight.
Or what about the time when he saw me in nothing but a tank and boyshorts one morning when I thought he wasn’t home? I didn’t miss the way his eyes hungrily roamed my body, nor the way he adjusted himself in his shorts.
We’re being tested by the universe, and I don’t know how many times we have to retake the test before we both fail.
“No,” I say quickly. “We have a pact and we’re sticking to it.”
“Or you could stick to him, if you know what I mean,” Clara says with a wink, making all of us laugh.
“Practically speaking, though, you do need to be careful,” Kaya speaks up once we’ve all calmed down.
“You’re right. I do need to tread carefully in that sense. But like I said, the motivation to keep things platonic for the baby is stronger than my attraction to him, so I’ll control myself. Plus, between his work schedule and mine, I doubt we’ll even be around each other that much.”
“I think you’ll be fine. You always succeed at whatever you put your mind to, and if it’s not sleeping with your baby daddy again, then I know you won’t,” Clara says, giving me a thumbs-up for encouragement.
I shake my head and laugh. “Thanks, Clara. I appreciate the support.”
“Anytime.”
“I believe in you too. I just always have to play devil’s advocate,” Kaya says.
“And I appreciate that,” I tell her, then ask, “What are you two up to today?”
“I have a game in Nashville today. I’m leaving in a few minutes,” Clara tells me as she zips up her jacket.
“Good luck,” Kaya and I say in unison.
“I’m meeting with my tattoo artist to book my next one to add to my sticker style sleeve, and then I have a pre-season game at home today,” she tells us,homeas in California where Team USA’s volleyball teams are based.
“What are you getting?” Clara asks.
Kaya smiles brightly as she says, “Blueberries, for my newest little bestie.”
My eyes shut as emotion hits me so hard and fast that I need a minute to process what she said. Knowing this baby is so loved by even my friends is so special, and I couldn’t be more grateful for them.
“Kaya, that’s so fucking sweet. You don’t need to do that,” I tell her as I sniffle, not letting the tears fall.
She waves me off as she takes another sip of her coffee. “Iwantto do it. But I do need to get going, ladies. Talk to you all later. Talented trio, crush it today!”
We say goodbye, ending the call as I lie in bed for a few more minutes. It’s quiet with Quentin gone for his afternoon game already.
While I’m used to the quiet, having lived on my own for so many years, I’ll admit it’s nice to come home and hear the sounds of him cooking, or the sports net on TV as he’s on the couch, or hearing him on the phone with his brother.
In the bathroom, I start the shower, letting the water run as I shed my clothes from last night and place them in my hamper.
In just a few days, I was able to make my room,myroom. I ordered a hamper, more clothes, toiletries, a floor lamp for cozy lighting, and I found a cool collage of some of my favorite bands that Quentin hung up above my bed.
While it doesn’t replace the personal items I lost, like my trophies and photos, it at least makes this space feel more like me.
“Wow,” I say to myself as Quentin throws the final pitch of the game.
Clearly, his pitching skills were great, yet what I thought was impressive was the way he commanded the game. Whenever he was on the mound, I found myself captivated by him and wondering what he would do next.
He was in control, calm and precise.
It reminds me of myself a little too much, and the ache that subsided from the joy of coaching starts to spread and sit more heavily than it did before.
