Page 25 of Sticking Around

Fuck. “Right.” I take a step back and she angles her head.

“Are you okay?”

“Sure, fine.” I laugh and blow the whole thing off, even though my insides are still wound tight. “Just thought I could use a shower.”

Silence hangs heavy for a second and then she holds her hand out to me. “Get in here, Coddy.”

A crazy sense of relief washes through me. I kick my pants off and climb into the shower, letting the hot spray soothe me. I avoid her gaze. She’s a smart woman, and I don’t want her seeing through me. She doesn’t speak, or ask me about my call, or why I’m suddenly so fucking needy. Instead, she picks up the soap, lathers her hands and twirls one finger.

I turn beneath the spray, lifting my face to the rain shower nozzle and she lathers my back. “That’s nice.”

“No one has ever washed your back before?”

I decide to be honest since honesty is important to her. “No. You?”

Her soft chuckle curls around me, and as it soothes my soul, I can’t help but wonder why she finds that question so amusing. “No.”

“How about we change that.” I turn, and squirt the liquid soap into my hands. It’s so odd, I was just inside her, but being here in the shower, touching her softly. I don’t know…it somehow feels more intimate. What the fuck is happening to me? If I want to make it in this world, I need to remain hard and detached. If I let emotions in, it could fuck up my head and my game, and then how could I take care of those counting on me?

“Brady…”

I slowly slide my slick hands over her tiny frame, and lift her arms so I can run my fingers up her sides. She quivers as I touch her. “Yeah.”

“Who were you talking to? If you don’t mind me asking. If you do, you don’t have to answer. I’m only asking because you seemed upset.”

I slide my hands around her body and pull her against my chest. I put my mouth on the side of her neck and my breathing is rough, uneven against her flesh as I give her a soft kiss. “It was my mother.”

“Okay.”

We don’t move, we just stay still with our bodies fused, and she doesn’t press. Honestly, I’m grateful she’s not digging into my past. My childhood and life back home isn’t something I talk about. So why the hell am I opening my mouth, unraveling like the frayed pair of pajama shorts she wore last night? “Water heater is broken, and my cousin’s kids both need new skates. They need me to send money.”

Her body stiffens and I curse myself. What the hell is wrong with me? “It’s nice of you to get them skates.” I don’t answer and she continues. “I can see why you were upset. A broken water heater is no fun.”

“Nope, having no hot water is no fun at all. It’ll definitely need to be fixed before it gets cold.” I work to inject playfulness in my voice, though it’s really fucking hard right now. “You can’t be in Newfoundland in the winter with no hot water.”

She mocks a shiver. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere without hot water.”

I chuckle. “True.”

“When I get my own place, I’m going to have the longest showers. I can’t do that in my shared apartment because we run out of hot water was too fast.”

I run my hands around her body, and soap her stomach. Her head falls back against my shoulder, and our bodies meld together. I put my mouth near her ear as I think about long showers. “Sounds luxurious.”

“Do you want to own your own place someday?”

It’s a simple, innocent question, so my stomach shouldn’t be coiling like a snake about to attack. But owning my own place means one more thing I’m responsible for. That, and I’m afraid to spend the money. What if a family member needs help and I’m unable to be there for them?

“Big house on Beacon Hill,” she teases. “Up there with all the other hockey players.”

“Why would I want that when I can run on the beach here every morning?” She angles her head like she’s not quite buying that. “Besides, I’m only one person. I’d get lost in a big place on Beacon Hill.” I understand what she’s hinting at, though. Noah and Brighton’s family is expanding, and they’re not always going to want me in the suite across the hall. I’m sure they’ll be breaking down walls and renovating to make it one big place.

“You help out a lot.” My brain, still processing Beacon Hill, works to catch up as she adds, “With your family back in Newfoundland. You’ve been the man around the house for a long time, even though it’s been a long time since you’ve actually lived in your childhood house.”

Again, another simple, innocent statement, but it hits my gut like a runaway slap shot, and I nearly bend forward. “Yeah.”

“What would they do without you?”

My head drops, weighed down with worry, as my heart pounds against her back. She turns in my arms, her eyes piercing mine, searching my face with concern. This woman is far too astute for me, so I try to drag a laugh up from the pit of my stomach, but it doesn’t make it to my lips.

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