Page 85 of Play Book

“I’m so ready for that.”

He dumps me on the bed, and we scramble to get undressed.

Then he’s inside me and I’m screaming his name, nails digging into his back as he takes me over the edge much more quickly than usual.

“Damn, baby.” He’s breathing hard as we finish. “That was fast. Miss me?”

“So much.”

We lay there in the aftermath, bodies intertwined, a light sheen of sweat covering us.

“I skipped practice,” he says, shifting so he’s on his back and I’m nestled against him. “It was optional, and I really needed some quality time with my girl.”

I love hearing that.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I say.

“I was thinking Friday night could be date night,” he says. “Ally has been invited to a sleepover.”

“Really?” My eyes widen. “That’s awesome. Both for us and for her. It means she’s making friends.”

“Yeah, I hope so. She seems pretty lonely because most of the kids have known each other for years.”

“She’s friendly with one of the girls in the art class,” I say. “At least, they talk a lot during class.” Ally had reluctantly started my class at the gallery.

“Yeah, she complains about having to go but comes home in a good mood.”

“I’m sure she’s struggling,” I say. “And missing her mom.”

“The overdose came up in therapy and she refuses to talk about it.”

“I wish there was a way to make this easier for her, but she just has to fight her way through the grieving process. There are no shortcuts in my experience.”

“What about your family?” he asks. “You don’t talk about anyone.”

“My mom and I aren’t close, and my dad died when I was a kid.”

“Where does your mom live?”

“Florida. I bought her a house in a retirement community. She works part-time at a clothing boutique and has a live-in boyfriend who pays the bills. We talk maybe three times a year. She does her thing, I do mine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“She was never very maternal, and when I started modeling, she was jealous. Once I was old enough to do my own thing, I put some distance between us. It’s fine. I see her once a year, usually at Christmas, and four days is about all I can stomach.”

“Yeah, I see my dad once a year on the dads’ trip, and then maybe once in the summer, but it hasn’t been the same since my mom died. She would hate what’s happened to our family.”

“Life is complicated,” I acknowledge. “I hope I’m a better mom than my mother was, you know?”

“And if I ever become a dad, I definitely want to be better than mine. My mom was pretty awesome, but my dad kind of checked out. Even before Mom passed.”

“It seems to me you already are.”

“Already am what?”

“A better dad than your father was. I mean, you’ve stepped up to the plate for Ally even though you had no idea what you were doing. You’ve made a home for her, and your own little family, even if she doesn’t appreciate it yet.”

“Thank you for saying that. It’s been hard as hell.”

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