Page 75 of Catching Feelings

I clock out and say good night to the other nurses and head out to my car. I have just over an hour to change, pick up some food, and head over to Kendall’s place to watch the game. Thursday night games are tough on the guys, not having much time to rest and prepare after their Sunday game. Hence why I haven’t seen Miles this week other than last night when he surprised me at my car after work with two pounds of Dunkin coffee beans and a bag containing similar sweatpants he bought for his sister when we were in Kittery, and a jersey with his name and number on it.

He had to head back to the stadium for a team meeting, but took the time to see me, even if only for a few minutes. He kissed me breathless and left me begging for more. Before he got on the team plane this morning, he texted me a selfie of him in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

MILES:Eat your heart out, Doc. Only two nipples, but feel free to leave your mark the next time I see you.

I’m afraid to admit how many times I opened my phone today to stare at the picture. Other than our pictures from our hike, it’s the only one I have of him. I like that this is my very own private picture.

Granted, maybe this is Miles. Maybe he’s sent out hundreds of similar pictures to women, and they stare at the half-naked Miles, drooling over the ridges of his abs, remembering how they felt while he made love to them.

It’s these moments of doubt that have me holding back from telling him how I feel, even when he’s so open about his feelings for me.

When I get home, I change out of my nursing scrubs and into the sweats and jersey Miles gave me. Thirty minutes later, I pull up in front of Kendall and Nash’s place.

The pregame show is already on the television and Paisley greets me at the door.

“Auntie Rowan.” She holds out her arms for me and I scoop her into a hug.

“Hey, Pickles.”

Paisley giggles. “Uncle Bucky calls me that too.”

My heart races at the mention of his name. Gah. I’m in deep. “Excited to watch Daddy play on the TV tonight?”

“He doesn’t play by himself. Uncle Bucky and Uncle Walker and Uncle Darius and Uncle Trenton and Uncle Brock—”

“We get it, Pais.” Kendall comes into the room and blows raspberries on her cheek. “You can name every player on Daddy’s team and you’ll be watching them all.”

“But I’m wearing Daddy’s number like Mommy. Whose number are you wearing, Auntie Rowan?”

“I feel bad for the other guys who don’t have a Pickles to cheer them on, so I’m mixing it up. Figured I’d give Bucky a shout out tonight.” I set her down and walk with Paisley to the kitchen where Riley sits on a stool, nursing Emmitt. “As soon as you’re done, I’m taking the baby.”

“Maybe if you got here earlier. I already called dibs,” Kendall says as she takes a tray of chicken fingers out of the oven.

“I suppose that’s fair since you’re hosting.”

“Kendall held him when I got here an hour ago. You can have the next turn, Row.”

Kendall sticks her tongue out at me and sets a tray of fries on the counter. “Dinner’s ready.”

When we watch the game at their house, we let Paisley pick the meal plan. So far it’s been chicken chunkies, as she calls them, and smiley fries. Kendall appeases her by telling her she gets to stay up for the entire game, but ten times out of ten, she’s out cold before the end of the first quarter. Eight o’clock games are hard on those of us who have to get up early for work or school the next day.

At least tomorrow’s Friday, so we’ll only have to drag ourselves through one workday. We settle on the couch and cheer on our guys for the first half—Paisley conking out eight minutes into the game.

When Kendall comes downstairs after putting her to bed, she plops next to me on the couch and picks up a chicken chunk, pointing it at me.

“You had sex.”

“What?” I cover the blush on my cheeks by picking up my water bottle and finishing the remaining three sips. “Why would you think that?”

“Is it Charles? Taylor didn’t say anything about him being in town. Did he sneak in a visit to see you without telling the rest of us?”

“No. I haven’t seen Charles. My glow is from hanging with my favorite people and all the baby love.” I kiss Emmitt’s pudgy cheeks. “We don’t get to see each other as much as we used to. Life. Work. Families. I get it. No guilt. Just miss you.”

Charles is Taylor’s brother. We went out a few times over a year ago, and while he’s fun to hang around with, he didn’t stir any emotions inside. There was an instant attraction, sure, but it wore off after our first dinner together.

“You said that last time we were together,” Kendall says, her eyes narrow as if she can see through my lies. Lies by omission, but still.

“You sure you’re not getting laid? Because you have that look.”

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