Page 13

13

AMELIA

I watch from my window as Richard pulls the Corvette out of the parking lot, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Collapsing on my couch, I run my hands over my face and let out a frustrated sigh.

I woke up today thinking things would be great. After all, I’d only applied to the secretary position earlier in the week and they set up an interview already…that had to count for something, right? They must’ve seen something they liked in me…

I went to that campus, excited, hoping for the best, and then…

Then I ran into Tripp, and then my car died, and then Richard…

My phone rings, jolting me from my thoughts, and I nearly jump off the couch.

I answer it immediately, since I’d recognize the ringtone just about anywhere.

“Hey, Sam, everything okay?” I ask, panic striking me that something’s happened with my daughter.

“Everything’s fine,” she says warily.

“You don’t sound like everything is fine…”

“It’s nothing, just uh…Lyla had a little accident as I was putting her in the car seat, and well…I didn’t think you’d want her back without a bath first, so…”

I close my eyes, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, okay…” I say.

“So we’ll just be a little late, that’s all. Probably about a half hour or so?”

I nod even though she can’t see me. “Okay, yeah, that’s fine.”

“Do me a favor?” Sam asks.

“What?”

“Relax. Pour yourself a damn glass of wine or something. You’ve had a crazy day.”

I nod again, even though she can’t see me.

“Yeah, okay,” I tell her, fully committing to the idea. Maybe after Lyla is home and has been fed, maybe when she lies down for the night…

I still haven’t had a chance to give myself the self-care I’ve been craving, and I vow that tonight will be the night for sure. Once my daughter is down, I will be in that bubble bath with a glass of cheap wine and my waterproof vibrator. Sam’s right, I need some stress relief. Maybe a little unwinding will help me think things through clearly.

“Alright, I’m going to get this baby cleaned up then I’ll be over, k?”

“Okay, sounds good.”

When the phone goes quiet, I notice how silent it is in my apartment. That is, until I get an email notification on my phone. I check my email, seeing that my landlord has already sent the invoice for next month. Nine hundred a month for this apartment isn’t terrible, but I need to check my account to make sure I’ve got enough in there to cover it…

I lean back on the couch, scrolling through my tabs until I find my bank app. Logging in to my savings, my eyes widen when I see how much I have left. I thought I had more to stretch, but I know if I move the money for next month’s rent, I won’t be able to replace it. Not without a job, or a car to get to a job…

I think about Richard’s offer. Moving in with the Rose brothers sounds like a terrible idea, all things considered.

First there’s the fact that they’re my ex’s brothers, they’re all hockey players, they’re all single as fuck, and…

And I’ve kissed one out of three of them, so far.

The fact that I almost kissed Dane and got startlingly close to Richard today tells me moving in with them would probably be a recipe for disaster.

But it would also be a lot less expensive than nine hundred a month when I’m broke and without a car.

Richard didn’t say what I would owe if I moved in, if anything. I am not one to assume that I would be living there for free, but being as Tripp and Dane know my situation and Richard seems to as well…I can’t imagine they would be charging me a lot, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I want to pay something . I want to contribute somehow…

Oh God, am I considering this? Am I really so desperate that I would consider moving in with the family of the man who wronged me?

Yes. Yes, I am.

I lean my head back against the couch and groan in defeat.

That’s when I hear the knock at the door. I get up, sighing as I open it. Sam stands there with Lyla in her carrier, her diaper bag slung over her shoulder.

“Hey, girl,” she says with a smile as I wave her in. She sets Lyla’s carrier on the ground as I shut the door, but before I can unload Lyla, Sam throws her arms around me and pulls me in close.

Her tight hug makes all the muscles in my body loosen and I let out the heaviest sigh.

“There, there,” she says as the tears hit me out of nowhere. I bring my hands up, wrapping them around her. “It’s okay, let it out.”

“It’s not,” I tell her as I push off of her, wiping my eyes.

I kneel down to unhook Lyla, picking her up and cuddling her close. Sam sets her keys down on my dining room table as she unpacks Lyla’s bag.

“What did Rich say about your car?” she asks.

“He had it towed to his place, says he can fix it.”

“That’s…nice of him,” Sam says carefully.

“Yeah, that’s not the only thing he offered…” I huff under my breath.

“What was that?” she asks as she heads for the kitchen with empty bottles.

“Nothing,” I say as I bounce Lyla who looks at me with tired eyes. “Did you have a good time with Auntie Sammy today? Did you?”

Lyla yawns, curling closer to my shoulder as she stares up at me.

“What else did he offer you?” Sam says, leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

“What?”

Sam shoots me a knowing look. “You said that wasn’t all he offered. So what was it?”

I debate whether I should tell her the truth or not, given the circumstances, especially since I haven’t told her about Tripp or Dane, or…

But then again, she is my best friend, and if there was ever anyone who I could talk to about my burgeoning midlife crisis, it’s her.

“He kinda…suggested I should move in with him. With them , I mean. Dane, and Tripp, and him.”

Sam raises an eyebrow and immediately I feel my cheeks flush.

“Where’s the problem there? I’d kill to move in with not one, not two, but three hot athletes who happen to want to help me…” She smirks at me.

“It’s not that simple, Sam, I?—”

“You what? I know they’re related to he who shall not be named and all, but from what you’ve told me, they seem like they genuinely want to help. Where’s the problem?”

I wring my hands as I look at her, debating coming clean. She blinks, realizing there’s more I haven’t said. The smile that graces her face should make me feel on the spot, but it doesn’t. It only makes me feel safer.

“Tripp and I kind of…kissed. Twice,” I say, letting out a breath.

“Tripp Adams, huh? Can’t say I had that on my bingo card.” She whistles.

“…And I almost kissed Dane the other day, and?—”

“I swear, Mia, if you tell me you almost kissed Richard, I will expire.”

I don’t say anything, just offer her a raised eyebrow. Lyla coos, drawing my attention as I continue to bounce her. She squirms in my arms as Sam laughs.

“Oh. My. God, Amelia Marie Corbett!!!”

I brace for her squeal of excitement, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“I’m a mess, Sam, clearly, I—” I let out a sigh. “I can’t get involved with three hockey players who happen to be related to my ex. That’s like…the stuff of midlife crises and romance novels.”

Sam scoffs at me. “What are you talking about, this is the perfect time to get involved with three very hot, very available, very fuckable hockey players.”

I roll my eyes. “There will be none of that.”

Sam laughs. “What, did you take a vow of abstinence after having this little dumpling over here?” she asks as she approaches us, her gaze dropping to Lyla who keeps squirming in my arms, kicking her little feet against my ribs, which hurts.

“No, but?—”

“All I’m saying is, live-in boyfriends and free childcare are one hell of a perk.”

“That’s the thing…I don’t even know if Dane and Tripp are on board…”

She runs her hands up and down Lyla’s back, her gaze holding mine seriously.

“I mean, they are her family, right? And they obviously care. Just because Dex fucked you over, doesn’t mean they will.”

I hate to admit she’s right. Damn it.

“Besides, you can always, you know…ask them. You’ve been texting Tripp anyway, right? And you know Dane would be here in a flash if you called…” She looks down at Lyla, twisting her lips, and I think there’s more she wants to say, but she thinks better of it. “Just…it’s okay to need help sometimes, Mia.”

Her voice is soft, caring. I hate how serious it sounds, because her words hit me harder than they should.

“It’s okay to ask for help too,” she says, pulling me and Lyla both in for a hug.

I nod. “I’ll think about it.”

She lets me go, heading for the door. “Sounds good. Keep me posted,” she says as she leaves.

Lyla finally settles as I carry her to her room, mulling over everything that’s happened today. Richard’s help, his offer, Sam’s advice…

I lay her down and tuck her in, taking my time as I walk through my messy apartment. The papers on the table I haven’t had time to sort stand out amongst the array of toys spread out in the small living room slash dining room. The sink is piled up with dishes. I’ve barely been here for two weeks and haven’t had much time to clean or decorate or even organize my things. Every hour has been spent either taking care of Lyla in some way or looking for a job. Trying to arrange a sitter. The only time I’ve had any relief is when Dane shows up. Or when Tripp took us to the zoo…

I fall onto my couch, relishing in the quiet for a moment. With my rent due, my bank account dwindling, and my car completely out of commission, I hate to admit that Richard’s option is honestly the best option.

I don’t want it to be, though. I wish I had other options and didn’t have to move in with my ex’s brothers.

I hold my finger over his number, my heart in my throat. It’s just a phone call, I tell myself. But I know it’s not just a phone call. It’s admitting defeat.

It’s admitting that I can’t do this on my own right now, and I hate that.

Before I met Dex, I didn’t need anyone. And then I met Dane, and Dex, and everything changed. In the course of a few months, I fell hard for Dexter Rose and his charms, and then I got pregnant, and I needed him.

I needed him in ways I never wanted to need anyone.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Lyla with all my heart, but I don’t think I was ready for her.

But I was too swept up in how good Dexter Rose made me feel. His lies, his sweet nothings, his illusions. And when he told me he wanted me to come with him, I thought…

I thought I’d finally found my happily ever after.

But it wasn’t real.

I don’t regret getting pregnant, but I do regret letting Dex lure me into false security.

Sometimes, the lies are easier to believe than the truth. The truth I didn’t want to see. And now it feels like I’ve fallen so far from the top of the mountain, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make my way back to the top.

But I have to try, right? Not just for myself, but for my daughter.

So I hit the button, and I let the phone ring. I hold my breath and I wait for Richard to pick up.

“Hey, baby girl,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly. I don’t even want to acknowledge the shiver that runs down my spine at his words, or the way my pussy legitimately twitches at the tone of his voice.

Fuck, this is such a bad idea…

But what choice do I have?

“Hey,” I say softly. “I was thinking about your offer…”

“Ahhh, you’re done fuming, I take it?” he says. His tone is cocky and arrogant, which only pisses me off and makes me want to hang the damn phone up.

My gaze settles on the blank screen in front of me, my reflection in the shadowed pane of the television.

“I have every right to be irritated with you, Richard. With the situation.”

“Of course you do.”

His acknowledgment should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. It feels condescending, in a way, and I want to argue with him. Banter. Bitch. Richard Rose draws out a side of me that I’ve never known, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll do it under one condition.”

The silence that falls on the other line is palpable. My heartbeat quickens as I try to maintain my courage.

“What’s that?” he finally asks, the rasp in his voice making my loins quiver again.

Seriously, is the sexy audiobook voice a genetic trait with these men? Lord have mercy on my fucking pussy.

“I’ll do it if the others are on board. I’m not trying to upset the pecking order. And there will be rules.”

Richard laughs and the sound is like pure, melted butter.

“You ain’t upsetting shit, baby girl, I promise you that,” he says through a dark chuckle. “As for rules, well, I have no problem following any rules you set when it comes to Lyla, but?—”

“But what?” I ask, breathless. I press my thighs together, trying to quell the burgeoning ache forming. Something about the digital static, the rasp of his voice, the way he says baby girl …it’s making me all hot and bothered and I know it shouldn’t be that way.

My pussy spasms, wetness blooming between my thighs, and I know there’s only one way to quiet this damn desire. But I will be damned if I do that while on the phone with the man responsible for it.

“But I can’t promise you I’ll follow the rules when it comes to you.” His voice is dark, serious.

If I had wondered whether or not there was something between us, his adamant confession is telling enough. In person, I could easily dismiss that moment—the one where I was sure he wanted to kiss me—as a heat of the moment reaction due to all the stress of my insane day.

But now, on the phone, listening to him breathe those deep, masculine breaths, calling me baby girl , and all but confessing that he would not shy away from me, from whatever this is that’s between us…I can’t help the faintest whimper that escapes my throat.

Dex was a whirlwind, sweeping me up with charms and sweet talk and illusions of grandeur, but I have the feeling Richard is the real hurricane. Swift yet terrifying the closer you get, and once you’ve become one with its path, there’s no way out.

Destruction is inevitable.

“Okay,” I say, swallowing my fear and my pride.

Richard chuckles before a silence befalls us once more.

“What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?” he asks.

“N-nothing, why?”

“You want proof the others are on board? Come over here tomorrow, and they’ll tell you themselves.”

My heart twists and at the same time it aches, because what he’s proposing…being in the same room…with all three of them…is definitely something I should do. We should all sit down and discuss the details of a situation like this. But there is also a part of me that feels terrified of being in the same room as all three of them, knowing how I feel about them. How they obviously feel about me.

I’m not trying to start a soap opera here. We’re all adults, but…

There’s also a part of me that wants to see what they’ll do too.

“What time do you want Lyla and I to come over?” I ask quietly.

“How about I pick you up at one o’clock?” Richard asks, his voice melting my nerves.

“Sounds good,” I say, swallowing harshly.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow then, Amelia.” The way he says my name makes me close my eyes in relief.

“See you tomorrow then,” I tell him, hitting the end button far too quickly.

I let the phone fall from my hand into my lap and breathe a heavy sigh, knowing I’m more than doomed. My breath catches and I shift my position on the couch, because I’m wet and uncomfortable.

I slide my hand between my legs, feeling the dampness against my panties, cursing the truth. The friction feels too good to ignore, and I curse to myself, knowing I need this. I need to come and just get some fucking relief.

I get up from the couch, making my way to the bathroom, and set about drawing myself a bath. A hot bath always helps relax me, especially before bed, and I know I need rest. I haven’t really stopped since I set foot back in this town, but if I’m being honest, I haven’t really stopped since I had Lyla almost five months ago.

I remove my dress, letting it crumple to a pile on the floor, and carefully remove my bra and panties which are damn near soaked at this point. I get into the tub carefully, relishing in the feel of the warm water, the scent of the bubble bath, and I slide down easy, my eyes falling shut as my legs open.

It’s been nearly six months since I’ve had any sort of pleasure. The closer we got to Lyla’s birth, the less Dex wanted to have sex, even though the doctor said it was fine. At the time, I just figured it was because he didn’t want to hurt our baby, but now I know the real reason…

I shove the thoughts of my cheating ex out of my mind, because I don’t want to think about him. Not in general, and certainly not now, not when I’m trying to relax so I can have a moment to myself.

A moment of self-care. Masturbating is self-care, I don’t care what anyone says. That relief that comes after you let go…that post-orgasmic high…it boosts serotonin and makes you feel like you can do anything.

And maybe that’s exactly what I need right now, so I keep my eyes shut and I let my hand wander between my thighs. My clit’s already swollen and hard, and just the slide of my fingers between my folds sends a shiver up my spine. I slowly stroke them, my fingers teasing my clit as I try to focus on the feeling, the sensation of my fingers massaging my needy little nub.

I slide one finger inside myself, my jaw tensing when I do.

It feels good, but it’s not enough, so I slide a second one in. Slowly, I pump them in and out as my thumb flicks my clit and my body starts to relax, my mind wandering to thoughts I should not think.

Richard’s smooth voice calling me baby girl.

Dane’s fiery gaze as he pinned me against the doorframe.

Tripp’s tongue in my mouth.

“Oh my God,” I say, my insides clenching my fingers at the thought. I know I should not be thinking about any of these men, let alone all three of them, for so many reasons. But in the privacy of my bathroom, where no one can see me or hear me, where no one knows my sin but me…

I let myself think about them if only because the thoughts are hard to fight.

Imagining Dane pressing his body against me, feeling his hardness against me, imagining Tripp’s mouth on my neck, grazing my stiff nipples.

And I imagine Richard, bending me over the hood of my piece of shit car and…

“Oh, fuck!” My orgasm comes hard and fast and I’m not ready for it. My legs stiffen as they hit the side of the tub and my pussy clenches around my fingers, spasming as euphoria spreads throughout my body like lightning. Lazily I thrust against my fingers, my eyes screwed shut as the pleasure hits its peak, until I catch my breath.

When I open my eyes, I stare at the ceiling, at the cracks I hadn’t noticed before.

And I tell myself as I unravel in the hot water, my pussy still spasming with the aftershocks of pleasure, that they are just fantasies. They don’t mean anything.

And as I peel my limp body out of the tub, the exhaustion hitting as my relief crescendos, I tell myself I won’t think of them like that again.

And as I fall asleep, sated by the return of my pleasure, I feel good enough that I actually believe my own lie.