My parents had been here once to visit. Not to go to a game, but for dinner, because they were in town for something else. They looked around our place and made faces and commented about how they thought that we’d live somewhere nicer or at least hire someone to decorate.
It wasn’t like we were hosting dinner parties. Though we had some of the team over sometimes. Still, we wanted comfort, not something showy.
And after that, I knew there wasn’t even any point, so I just stopped talking to them. I’m not sure they even noticed. Even when they had talked to me, all they really did was go on and on about my siblings, how amazing and successful they were, and what a disappointment I was.
Part of me was sad that they didn’t even acknowledge the amazing post-season my team was having.
But they wouldn’t. If I did get a text, it would probably scold me for not playing well enough. And like when I was young, I would get a list of everything I did wrong and nothing about anything I did right.
So, I just stayed with Ashton during the off-season, who had the most supportive family ever. I didn’t mind helping out with their business.
We’d also fish, camp, hike, go out on the water, and have a good time. It was nice and relaxing. I never felt like I was disappointing or that I had to impress anyone.
I wrapped my arms around him, inhaling his woodsy scent. “Thank you for coming with me. I appreciate it, especially since this was really my bet, not yours.”
“It’sourbet. It’s you and me. Always.” Leaning in, he kissed me, beard brushing across my face.
I looked up into his brown eyes. “You did have fun, right? This was fun?”
“I think I forgot that going out could be fun.” His voice went soft as he trailed a hand down my cheek.
“Maybe over the off-season we should start doing more activities with people. Though the moment we say something like that, your mother will probably be setting us up, but she also knows us pretty well,” I said.
Ashton stiffened.
“Sorry if you’re not ready, it’s fine. I’m just talking,” I reassured, holding him close.
“I know. I’m not ready yet, but if you are, we could try a little,” he said haltingly.
My heart melted. Oh, Ash. My sweet, giant, Ashton.
“I’d like that a lot. I’ve been thinking a little bit about it. But I don’t want to push you,” I added. We didn’t have to move quickly. I just wanted to move a little.
“If all dates were like tonight, I wouldn’t mind so much. Dating’s just so fussy and stressful, but this was pleasant,” he confessed.
It also wasn’t a date–and probably part of Marilyn’s psychology. She knew us far too well.
“Shall we take that shower and go to bed?” I took his hand.
He nodded and led me into our room.
It was big and spacious, done in green and browns, with a dark green, plaid comforter, and matching furniture that looked like logs. The furniture had all been made by some of Ashton’s aunts who had a business.
Another thing my parents made fun of.
Ashton started undoing the buttons on my shirt, one by one, his eyes meeting mine.
My lips crashed into his as I fumbled for his own buttons, getting his shirt off as quickly as I could, and tossing it onto the bed. Then I unbuckled his belt as he did the same with mine.
Unbuttoning his pants, I let them fall to the ground. He stepped out of it and picked up the discarded clothes, placing them in the hamper, and putting the belts back in the closet.
“I’m standing here naked and you’re hanging up the belts,” I teased, even though that’s the way he was.
He eyed me in my boxers. “You’re not naked yet.”
I stripped them off and tossed them into the laundry basket and then shot him a smirk. “Better?”
“Yes.” Putting a hand in the center of my chest, he pushed me backwards into our large bathroom.
