Page 46 of Teasing

Istand in front of the coffee maker, willing it to finish percolating faster, so I can get in a cup before I shower. I slept like shit all weekend, and Monday came way too fucking fast for my taste. I can’t remember the last time I overslept, but I managed to do it today. When the coffee maker blessedly beeps, I pour a cup of piping-hot black coffee into my mug and lift it up, just as Jamie walks into the kitchen and takes it from me. “What the hell, asshole?”

“Sorry. Don’t want to be late.” The fucker smirks and guzzles the coffee, like it’s not burning his throat.

“Late for what?” He’s in shorts and a sleeveless gym shirt, barefoot. “Where the hell are you going? We’ve got camp this morning.”

Jamie hands me the empty mug and wiggles his eyebrows like a Muppet.

Dumbass.

“Sunrise yoga, man. The hot nanny is gonna help me get into downward dog.”

With my next breath, I have him slammed up against the glass doors by the throat.

Maybe if he hadn’t drunk my coffee, I’d be more forgiving.

“The hot nanny has a name.” I hold his throat just enough for his face to turn red, but this asshole’s smile only gets bigger.

“Oh yeah... and what’s that?” he asks, wheezing.

“Mine.” I drop my hand and glare at my best friend. Guess that was one way to tell him. Pretty effective though.

“Took you long enough, Beneventi.” Jamie grabs the doorknob, and my glare morphs to shock. “What? I’m still gonna try yoga. I’m just not gonna do dirty things to your girl in my mind while I’m doing it. Ryker says it’s done great things for his flexibility.”

“You’re not gonna think dirty fucking thoughts about Emmie ever. Got it?” I take a step toward him, and Jamie just shakes his head with his stupid grin taking up his whole face.

“No promises.” He moves outside and watches me. “I mean, have you seen what she’s wearing today?”

If I didn’t know he was trying to piss me off, I’d kill him right where he stands. But for Jamie, this is fun. Some guys play video games. Jamie stirs shit. “If you want to be able to ever see again, keep your damn eyes to yourself, or I’ll pop them out of their sockets with my fucking thumbs, Murphy.”

“Good talk.” He closes the door as bare feet slap against the slate floor, followed by four furry paws. I turn just in time to catch Rosie as she catapults herself into my arms.

“Mornin’, Daddy.”

To have an eighth of the energy my daughter has the minute she opens her eyes in the morning... I’m not sure I’ve ever had that kind of energy.

“Good morning, baby girl. How’d you sleep?” I slide her to my hip and pour another cup of coffee. If this morning is any indication, it’s going to be a long day.

“I slept great.” She smacks a wet kiss on my cheek and throws her little arms around my neck. “I’ve been thinking... I’m a big girl now, right?”

I sit her down on the counter and stand in front of her, wondering exactly where this is going because it sounds like a trap. “Big enough. But don’t be in a rush, okay? I like the age you are. The rest will come soon enough.”

She taps her finger to her lip, like she’s considering my words. The purple glitter nail polish she and Emmie painted last week is already chipping. “Okay. But I am a big girl. I’m about to start kindergarten and ballet class. I think it’s time I go to a game.”

“What game?” What I really want to ask is what five-year-old saysit’s about time?

“Your game, silly daddy. I talked to Mimi last night, and she said you had a game this week and asked if I wanted to spend the night at their house.”

Thank you, Mom. “That sounds like fun.”

No fucking way am I ready to let her go to a game.

My family has a personal box that we only allow family or friends in. There’s no press. No one outside our inner circle is allowed in there. But it’s photographed. The press still get their shots from outside. We’ve been called the modern-day Kennedys. Not that any of us like that comparison. But the interest is there, and it’s impossible to ignore.

On top of that, game days are rife with things Rosie can’t have. Peanuts are sold in the stadium. Everything has wheat in it or cheese on it. My father has often reminded me that we can control what comes into the suite, but I haven’t wanted to risk it. Mom thinks I’m being ridiculous, and even Scarlet has promised nothing would come into the suite. They’ll do anything for us to be able to share it with Rosie. Football is sacred in our family. But even knowing that, I haven’t wanted to risk it.

Maybe I’m being overprotective.

Maybe it’s time.

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