Page 13
Story: Man Advantage
CAM
If I hadn’t already had little hearts in my eyes starting the day I’d arrived in Pittsburgh, I’d have absolutely had them now. Yeah, yeah, yeah, Trev was hot, and he was cute, and I was a sucker for his smile, and—I mean, what about him didn’t make me stupid?
But I was not prepared for what it felt like to watch this man with his kids.
Most dads obviously loved their kids and would move heaven and earth for them. There were some dads, though, who were also utterly in love with being dads, and their entire world was a thousand times brighter whenever their kids were around.
Trev fell very firmly into that second category, and it was the cutest thing ever. Watching him watch them—the way he smiled, the way their antics made him laugh—this was a man who absolutely adored his children, and it made me all fluttery inside.
He didn’t let them walk all over him, either.
When the boys fought over a pool toy, Trev told them both to sit in the poolside chairs for two minutes and cool down.
Afterward, he had them apologize to each other, and warned that if they fought over the toy again, that would be the end of pool time for today.
He wasn’t mean or loud about it, just very matter-of-fact and firm. They apparently took his warning to heart, too, and there wasn’t any more arguing.
The boys seemed pretty well-behaved anyway, and they got along better than I had with my siblings.
Maybe because they were twins? I didn’t know.
They had all the energy I would expect from a couple of six-year-olds, especially six-year-olds who were playing in a pool, but they seemed pretty easygoing too.
And they were still young enough to be absolutely delighted when Trev got into the water and joined them for a few games. They’d been enthusiastic when I’d played with them, but their dad? That was the highlight of their day, I thought.
At one point, we even put them on our shoulders and let them whap at each other with pool noodles, both of us laughing hysterically as they gleefully battled it out.
After that, we left them to play on their own, and we reclaimed our spots on the edge of the pool. As Trev hoisted himself up beside me, and I was so mesmerized by water running down his flawless body that I almost didn’t hear him speak.
“I should get lunch going.” He stood and reached for a towel, oblivious to me ogling his massive thighs or the way his shorts clung to his narrow hips. “Burgers still sound good to everyone?”
“Yeah!” the boys cried.
Trev smiled, looking so utterly adorable, then turned his attention to me. “What about you?”
Me? What about…
Lunch, Cam. He’s asking about lunch.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Yeah, burgers sound great. Can I help with anything?”
“Nah, I got it.” He gestured at the boys, who were now busily whacking each other with the pool noodles again. “Just keep an eye on them.”
I gave him a playful salute, and he gave me a little wink that made me grateful for the water keeping me cool right then.
Pull yourself together, Cam. The fuck.
Though both boys loved swimming, Zach got out when Trev fired up the grill. He stayed glued to his dad’s side, and Trev patiently explained to him everything he was doing. He even let his son turn some of the burger patties while he watched him like a hawk.
I got back in the pool to keep Zane entertained, and also to cool myself off and, like, not sit there and ogle Trev. Someone needed to keep an eye on Zane, and I wasn’t doing that if I was perving on his dad.
So, I kept him busy and myself distracted, and I managed to not make an ass of myself while Trev and Zach finished making lunch.
We ate outside on the deck, and after lunch, we moved inside. While the boys went upstairs to play, Trev and I—still in our swim trunks—cleaned the handful of dishes.
As I put a couple of plates in the dishwasher, I said, “Zach seemed fascinated by you grilling.”
A fond smile crossed Trev’s lips. “Yeah. He really wants to learn to cook. He’s been watching cooking videos with me and Bryan since he was little, and he’s always interested in whatever we’re doing in the kitchen.
” He paused, then added, “I can’t wait until he’s older so he can take on more.
I know he’s itching to try some things, but he’s just not quite old enough yet, you know? ”
“Like actually doing the grilling himself, and using a knife?” I asked. “And probably anything involving measuring?”
“Actually, they’re both pretty good with measuring. They haven’t learned much math in school, but they know how to match a fraction on a recipe to one on a measuring cup.”
“Oh. Damn. Fractions will be a breeze for them then, won’t they?”
“One can hope.” Trev made a face. “Because they were almost the death of me.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you do.”
I chuckled. “So they’re both learning it—does that mean Zane likes cooking too?”
“He prefers baking. I think he enjoys the precision of it. Zach is fine with the precise stuff, but he really likes the chaos of cooking, where you can just throw stuff together and experiment. Zane is a bit more methodical.” Trev paused.
“He’s surprisingly good at things like cake decorating, too.
He’s been asking us for months to sign him up for this one class in Sewickley, but it’s for eight and over. ”
“Aww, bummer.”
“Yeah, but I talked to the instructor, and she said she could let him in when he’s seven as long as there’s an adult with him. So he’s signed up for one in December after their birthday.”
I straightened. “Is one of my nanny duties taking your kid to a cake-decorating class? Because I will a hundred percent do that for free.”
Trev laughed. “Really?”
“Are you kidding? I’m a personal trainer who was surrounded by rigid health fanatics for the past few years. Hell yeah, show me to the sugar class.”
He snorted. “You know you’re there to supervise, right? Not actually, like, eat the frosting and stuff?”
I shrugged. “And? Doesn’t mean we can’t lick the beaters when no one’s looking.”
“Oh my God.” Trev rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “You’re a dork, you know that?”
“Are you only now just figuring this out?”
“No, no, I’ve known since third grade— third grade, Cam, not fourth or fifth—that you’re a dork.”
“Oh, Jesus. You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
“That you forgot that entire year? No. No, I will not let that go.”
“We barely even knew each other!” I crossed my arms. “And now that I’m remembering a bit more, I seem to recall you stole my crayons and never gave them back.”
“I don’t remember that.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Got a little selective amnesia going on, do we?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, Mrs. Vincent might’ve bought that, but I didn’t then and I don’t now.”
He eyed me. “Do you have any evidence to back up your accusations?”
“Besides a lack of crayons?”
Inclining his head, he asked, “Are you saying you’d still have them now if I hadn’t taken them back then?”
“So you admit to taking them?”
He huffed sharply. “Fuck you.”
“That’s not a no!”
He just rolled his eyes. “Anyway. It’s still nice out.” He nodded toward the sliding glass door. “Want to sit outside with a couple of beers?”
“Sounds perfect.”
While I took our beers out to the deck, Trev went upstairs to check on the boys and let them know where we’d be.
He returned a couple of minutes later, and we sat at the wrought iron table where we’d had lunch earlier.
It was amazing how much quieter the yard was when it was just the two of us. There were birds chirping as a gentle breeze rustled some leaves and made water slosh lazily against the sides of the pool, and the afternoon felt still and calm.
We didn’t talk much. We mostly just relaxed and drank our beer, and I basked in his company as much as I did the late summer warmth. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed him, and I vowed—same as I had at least a thousand times since I’d arrived in Pittsburgh—to never lose touch with him again.
I hadn’t been prepared for how profoundly right it was to have him back in my world. For just how wrong it had been that we’d gone so many years without breathing the same air. Never again. No way in hell.
I also hadn’t been at all ready for this version of Trev. Even seeing him on TV hadn’t prepared me for the grown-up professional athlete, chiseled to perfection by his job.
I definitely hadn’t been ready for the dad whose kids absolutely melted his heart. For as much as I knew what hockey could do to a man’s body, why had no one warned me about how spectacularly attractive fatherhood could make someone?
I’d crushed on him a lifetime ago, both when we’d dated and—secretly—after we’d broken up.
That crush had nothing on what he was doing to me now.
Table of Contents
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