Page 18 of Finding Alexei
My mind keeps remembering those tight-ass shorts she had on at the club and those gorgeous tits. Jesus, those tits and everything that’s below them have haunted my dreams. I’ve dreamt about her every night. Touching her. Kissing her. Rolling her nipples under my thumbs.
Unfortunately, she hasn’t shown the least bit of interest. Actually, that’s not entirely true. After dinner during her second night there, she lingered in the kitchen, standing close, her pretty blue eyes locked on mine, and for a second, I got the feeling that she wanted me to kiss her—or that she wanted to kiss me. Fuck, I wouldn’t have complained either way.
But there was no way I was going to make things awkward and freak her out. For all I knew, she’d panic and hightail it out of there. The thought of her and Ella out there somewhere fending for themselves wasn’t a chance I was willing to take, especially not in the middle of winter in Chicago.
So instead, I busied myself with cleaning the kitchen. Ryleigh left to lay Ella down, and when she came back and washed bottles beside me at the kitchen sink, all the tension from earlier was gone. We shared another glass of wine and talked about our favorite movies before parting ways to head off to bed—in separate bedrooms. It didn’t stop me from jacking off that night while thinking of how she looked in the bathtub, but at least I didn’t do something stupid like make a move on her.
She gets hit on all day every day at her job, and I’m not about to be like one of those Neanderthals and expect her to share her body with me just because I’m helping her. If and when she decides to share that delicious body of hers with me, it will be because she’s as desperate as I am to explore what could happen between us, not because she feels like she has to share my bed for a warm place to stay.
“You ready for the big game, Ivan?” my friend Doug asks, clapping one hand on my shoulder as he passes me in the aisle to take the row behind me. The plane is big enough that each player has his own row, which is helpful when you stuff sixty-five football players onto a plane together.
“Born ready, baby,” I quip.
The truth is, the game is the furthest thing from my mind, and I hope I can get through it without letting my team down.
I pull out my phone to text Ryleigh one last time before we need to switch over to airplane mode.
Hey, Ry—you guys okay? We’re about to take off.
A second later, my phone pings, and my mouth twitches in a smile.
We’ll be fine, Alexei. Go win that game. For me and Ella. :)
I chuckle and tap out a reply.
You going to watch me on TV?
I watch as the last of the players and staff board the plane and wait for her to reply.
Oh! I never thought of that. Yeah, totally! What time’s the game? What’s your number again so I know who to look for on the field?
This makes me laugh harder. I’ve never dated a woman who wasn’t obsessed with football, obsessed with what I did for a living or the idea of being a player’s girlfriend or wife. Ryleigh literally has zero interest, and I find that refreshing.
I fill her in on the time and tell her which channel she’ll find the game on, as well as the number on my jersey.
See you Sunday night.
Her reply comes almost instantly.
Looking forward to it.
Two nights. Two nights away from Ryleigh and little Ella, and it feels like a fucking eternity.
• • •
I have no idea what the hell is happening to my life. I only know that all my concentration, all my focus, has been replaced with constant worry and concern for a certain woman and baby who are currently staying in my home.
My team squeaked out a win, but only barely, and I can tell Coach Royce isn’t at all pleased with my performance on the field. But fuck it. We won. It’s over. He’s just going to have to deal with it for now.
On our flight back to Chicago, I lean my head back against the seat with my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep so I don’t have to endure any questions about what the fuck happened out there. During the last forty-eight hours, I became someone I barely recognized. I was like a needy teenage boyfriend, texting Ryleigh constantly, checking on them, and honestly just missing having them near. Even little Ella.
I almost had a panic attack and flew back when Ryleigh couldn’t figure out how to arm the alarm system, even though there was no way anyone was even getting up to the apartment without my passcode. Basically, I was being a ridiculous man-baby about all of this, and I have no freaking idea why.
