When it does, I take it out and set it on the stove to cool down. While it’s cooling down, I take out some lettuce and tomato. I cut them up before grabbing the sour cream, salsa, and hot sauce.
When everything is ready, the boys dish up and begin to eat, still chatting about anything and everything, but mostly basketball and how Kaden feels about this up and his very first season in the NBA.
After dinner, Beckett and Kaden go outside to shoot some 1v1 while I clean up. After the kitchen looks like it hasn’t been used, I throw on a sweater and also go outside. I sit on one of the lawn chairs and watch the two of them play and talk. I’m too far awayto hear what they are saying, but I can see today’s news and feelings melt off of Kaden’s back as he does what he loves most.
I listen to the almost therapeuticthumpof the basketball against the concrete, closing my eyes and letting myself relax. I feel significantly better than I was earlier. A weight I hadn’t even noticed was there has lifted. A feeling of relief after sharing just a little bit of my story, of having one of the closest people to me realize how horrible Briar can be. I look up at the stars and breathe in, enjoying being outside in the mountains.
I think that everything is going to be ok.
After about an hour, Kaden excuses himself, saying that he’ll be back in a little bit.
“You think he’ll be ok?” I ask as Beckett comes and joins me. He looks around to make sure that Kaden’s gone before picking me up, sitting down, and pulling me into his lap.
“Yeah, he’s tough, but he’s got a lot to think about right now. You mean a lot to him, and he never realized how badly you were hurting. I don’t think that any of us did.” He cups my cheek, and I turn my face into his hand, pressing a kiss into his palm.
I shrug. It makes sense, I suppose. I guess when you’re living in heaven, it’s hard to see someone else’s hell.
“No, don’t do that. Don’t shrug it off; your pain is important. Your hurt is important, and it’s ok to feel those things. You don’t have to explain it to anyone or justify it. It’s your story. It’s ok to not be happy about it,” he says, tilting my chin up so that I have no other option but to look at him. “You are beautiful, Sloane Monroe. Both inside and out. I know you don’t always believe it, but it’s the truth,” he says, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
“Thanks,” I say quietly.
“You’re welcome.”
He holds my face so that I have to look at him. After a few moments, he leans in and kisses me softly and slow. I don’t pull away; I let him kiss me since it’ll probably be the only affectionI receive for the next few days, considering Kaden will be here tonight, and everyone else will be here tomorrow.
“I guess that means that you’ll have to sleep in your own bed tonight, then, huh?” he pouts, and I smile softly.
“Unless you can be sneaky,” I tease, nipping at his ear softly.
“It’s my house, I shouldn’t have to be sneaky,” he whispers, his hand tangling in my hair softly, tipping my head back so that I’m looking up at him. “If I wanna kiss my girl, then I should be able to.”
The butterflies in my stomach swarm with how easily he claims me. He nibbles on my neck softly, smirking against the skin. His stubble gently scratches my neck in the most delicious way.
I pull away just to look at him. God, he is just so good-looking, his eyes dark with desire, his strong jaw, the stubble on his face a few days old.
How did I get so lucky to have him come home to me?
He smirks down at me and kisses the underside of my jaw, then down the column of my throat. He adjusts the way that I’m sitting so that I’m straddling him as he kisses me soft and slow.
“I missed you today,” he whispers against my neck.
“I missed you, too,” I mutter, tipping my head back for him.
His lips find mine, and the kiss stays slow, soft, gentle. Even when his tongue teases the seam of my lips, he takes his time to taste me. His hands grip my waist as he holds me still.
When we pull apart, we’re both slightly breathless and panting. He rests our foreheads together, his fingers slipping under the hoodie to touch the skin of my hips.
“We should stop…” I whisper.
“You’re probably right, but I would like you to know that I don’t want to,” he whispers, kissing my nose as he pulls away. “So what did you guys talk about?” He asks, holding me firmly in his lap.
“I guess Briar told him that I didn’t have enough money to afford to go to California, and that’s why I didn’t go to the draft with everyone.”
“What the fuck?” he says, looking at me like that’s the stupidest thing he's ever heard.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I said. Briar also told him that he calls and checks in with me once a week. Which is bullshit, because I haven’t heard from him since before I moved in.”
“I don’t understand why he’d lie about those things.”
