Page 40 of Obeying the Owner

She stares at me with apparent confusion.

“I was trying to change the subject, and hockey was the first thing that came to mind.”

“Oooh,” she says, looking oddly relieved. “I’m not much of a sports person,” she explains.

“No worries.” At least I got her mind off my fuckup. My phone goes off in my pocket. Tugging it free, I see Gwen’s name on the screen. “Mae, excuse me, please. I need to answer this.” Pushing back my chair, I rise and walk a handful of steps away so as not to be rude. The space I placed between us will make it less likely for Mae’s presence to distract me from my conversation with Gwen.

CHAPTER 11

MAEVE

“Hello,” James answers, stepping away to take his call. “Hi, Gwennie. How was your day?”

How sweet. It’s his daughter.

Tuning out his conversation, I allow my thoughts to wander back to a few minutes ago when he mentioned the Coyotes. For a moment, I was confused and started to panic, wondering if he had somehow found out who my brother is, or…

Relax. Breathe.

This is a new experience, and my anxiety may be getting the better of me. I don’t need to worry about James and the rest of my life intersecting.

I can’t believe I’m even thinking about it right now. This was all supposed to be just a hookup, but at this point, it feels like more to me.

“I love you too, Gwennie. Goodnight.” He ends the call, placing his phone on the counter.

“Sorry about that. Gwen calls me most nights when she’s not here.”

“That’s sweet,” I say. He’s the ultimate DILF. But I guess in my case, it’s DIF—dad I’m fucking.

He gestures at the Chinese food containers. “Would you like some more?”

“No, thank you. I had plenty.”

He closes the boxes, and I help. We carry them to the fridge, and he stacks them all inside.

“Want to watch a movie?” he asks.

“Sure.”

He loosely takes hold of my hand and leads me through the living room, to the hallway, and up the stairs to a room I’ve never seen before.

He flips a switch on the wall, turning on a few recessed lights. Shelves with sports memorabilia and books line the wall behind the couch, and a massive television is mounted to the opposite wall.

His hand drops from mine. “Gwen calls this my dad cave.”

“Is this where you hide away?” I ask.

“Only when she has friends over, and they’re occupying the living room. Otherwise, this space doesn’t get much use.”

I drop down onto the couch, running my fingers over the dark-gray microfiber material. “It’s nice and comfy.”

He sits next to me. “One of the reasons I don’t use this room much is I tend to fall asleep when I do. There have been plenty of mornings where I’ve woken up here instead of my bed.”

“Do I need to worry about you falling asleep on me?” I tease, poking his side.

He laughs. “I have a feeling every inch of me will be wide awake if you’re here.” He plucks the remote from the large ottoman, turning on the TV. “Any requests?”

“Something funny. You can never laugh too much.”

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