I choke out a laugh and clutch him tighter. “Don’t do that, the team needs him.”
“Well, I don’t give a shit what the team needs. I needyouto be happy.”
I look up at my dad’s best friend, the man who practically helped raise me. The man who has helped me build the life I’ve always wanted. “Thanks, Uncle Mike. For everything.”
“You’ve earned it. You deserve every happiness.” He drops his hands and tilts his head toward the door. “Ready to watch the game?”
I give him a watery smile and a nod, and we make our way up to Uncle Mike’s suite where Pam and Peyton are waiting, thanks to a personal invite from Uncle Mike to watch the game from here. I find them sitting in the lower level of the box, where they’ve got the perfect view of home plate.
“Hello, ladies,” I say brightly. Peyton bounces out of her seat and throws herself into my arms.
“Hi, Willow! Look, we’re matching.” She proudly sticks her thumb at her chest, showing off her own Sinclair jersey. She leads me over to her grandmother, who gives me a welcoming smile.
“Can I get either of you anything? We can have snacks brought up from concession if you don’t like what’s here,” I say, suddenly nervous. First the matching jersey with his daughter, now I’m watching the game with his mom and his daughter in my uncle’s box. Maybe it shouldn’t feel like such a serious step, but it does to me.
This is the first game in years I’m not officially working. And clearly, Pam can tell I’m at a loss.
“Just sit down and relax, dear. We’ve got all the snacks we could possibly want.” Pam indicates the seat on the other side of Peyton.
I sit down just in time for the players to hit the field. The cheer that goes up around the stadium is deafening, and Peyton and Pam join in as Ronan jogs over to first base. He looks up, scanning the boxes until he sees us, and even from this distance, I see his face light up.
“Daddy!” Peyton screams, waving wildly. She grabs my hand. “There he is!”
I give him a wave, smaller than Peyton’s, but there’s no shrinking my grin.There he is.
The game is fast-paced, and as I predicted, the Tridents pull off an easy win. Ronan scores two runs, and I’m pretty sure Peyton has no voice left by the end with how much she was cheering and screaming.
To my surprise, when we part ways — me to grab my bag from my office and Pam to take Peyton home — I get a hug goodbye from both of them.
“Thanks for watching the game with us, sweetheart, it was lovely to spend some time with you.”
“I had a great time,” I answer honestly. “It was nice to just watch the game and not be worrying so much about what I need to do for work.”
Pam laughs. “I can only imagine. What are your plans for tonight?”
Out of nowhere, I feel my cheeks heat up with a blush. Because the plans I wish I had involve her son in my bed.
Instead, I reply, “Oh, probably not much. Go home and get ready for tomorrow.”
She just nods and takes Peyton’s hand. “Alright, well, don’t let us hold you up. Have a lovely night.” The enigmatic smile on her face puzzles me slightly, but as soon as they’re gone, I dismiss it.
When an unexpected knock on my apartment door occurs less than half an hour after I get home from the game, I find myself frowning at it. I’m tired and just want to go to bed. And I didn’t miss a call from someone trying to buzz in, so I’m also a bit baffled as to who it is. Belting my satin robe even tighter around my middle, I pad over to the door and look through the peephole.
Then I’m throwing open the deadbolt, wrenching open the door, and hurling myself into the open and ready arms of my boyfriend.
“You’re here?” I gasp in between kisses. He carries us inside, not missing a beat between closing and locking my door. “Is that a bag?” I look down at the medium-sized duffle he just set down.
Ronan just grins, his hands still clutching my ass as I cling to him like a spider monkey. “Yeah, I was hoping you wouldn’t be opposed to a sleepover?”
I stare at him, trying to catch up mentally to what he just said. “Like, all night?”
He nods and starts moving in the direction of my bedroom. “All. Night. I got home, and Mom looked at me and told me to get out.” He chuckles. “It’s a little weird, my mom kicking me out of my own house so I can spend the night with my girlfriend, but I’m not going to complain.”
We reach my bedroom, and I wriggle out of his arms, keeping mine looped around his neck. “You’re telling me Pam Sinclair is playing cupid?”
His hands come to the tie of my robe, and he slowly starts pulling it undone. “Mm-hmm.”
He pushes my robe off my shoulders, letting the satin garment fall to the floor, leaving me in a skimpy set of sleep shorts and a tank top. My nipples are already hard pebbles, and I’m guessing there’s a damp spot on my shorts. The way this man turns me on should be criminal. His lips find my collarbone, brushing feather light kisses across my bare skin.
