Page 80 of Strelitzias in Spring

My face turns red, and I duck my head into his chest, cutting off our eye contact. I’ve always been an active sleeper, so I’m not necessarily surprised that I moved in my sleep. However, I am embarrassed that I seemed to have orchestrated climbing on top of him in my subconscious. “Sorry,” I mumble against his bare, tattooed chest, speaking into the endless lines decorating his body.

“You think I mind?” He flexes his hips, pressing them into me to show his obvious arousal. I wince at the thought of him entering me again; while it’s been the best sex I’ve ever had, I can’t deny that I’m sore.

My body language must betray my thoughts because he chuckles and relaxes into the mattress. “Sore?”

“A little,” I offer, looking back up at him and offering a small smile. “Are you relieved to be officially retired?”

“Mmm,” he hums, his hand stilling at my neck. “I’m relieved it’s over. I’m grateful for what MMA has afforded me, but I can’t say I’m sad to close that chapter.” His fingers knead into my skin, lightly massaging my muscles. “How were the last two weeks for you?”

I tense at his question, debating how best to respond. Sensing my dilemma, his fingers stop their movement and skate to my jaw, tilting my head up to meet his eyes. “What happened, princess?”

Swallowing my nerves, I offer, “I ran into Dylan.”

“That dick who put his hands on you?” Wolf’s eyes turn glacial, betraying all of the anger he must harbor at my omission. “What the fuck did he want?”

“To apologize, but I refused to speak to him. I haven’t seen him since.”

His eyes survey my face, pinging between my eyes until he accepts my answer and nods. “Will you let me know if he bothers you again?”

“Yes,” I reply, pressing a kiss against his chest. “I need to get going. I have to go to my mom’s to help her finish packing up my room before she moves today.”

“Where is she moving?”

I swallow down the fury that always accompanies thoughts of my mom’s forced move. Though she swears she’s fine, happy even, that my dad will no longer be a presence in any part of our lives unless I choose for him to be, anger, guilt, and disgust war for the primary emotion. “She’s moving to a condo in Frog Tree.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that.”

“I’m not. My dad is a dick.”

I can feel Wolf’s confusion. “But aren’t they divorced?”

“Yeah, because he’s a cheating asshole who couldn’t keep it in his pants. But he was the main signer on the mortgage because my mom didn’t have great credit when they divorced. After everything that happened with Devin and Marina, my dad decided to torpedo every part of my life where he still had some semblance of involvement. My mom never said, but from the conversations I’ve had with my dad, he all but demanded she move out or buy him out. My mom has never been one for games or theatrics, so she listed the house herself and told him to fuck off.” Shaking my head against his chest, I feel the tears start to come down, not in sorrow but frustration. “You know the worst part? I begged my dad, cried to him to reconsider doing this. That house was our sanctuary after the divorce. It’s where I learned to cook, where my grandmother would help me with my Spanish homework, and where I felt the safest. He took that away from me, from us, just like he’s taken everything else we’ve ever had.”

Wolf’s hand resumes rubbing my back, having stopped as soon as I started my tirade. Gathering me closer, his other arm bands around my body, hugging me to him. It’s meant to give comfort, solidarity; there’s nothing sexual about the move, yet it warms me all the same.

“Your dad sounds like an asshole.”

I bark out a laugh, grateful for the blatant honesty. “He is. But I haven’t been able to make it home in the last few weeks, so my mom has been doing everything by herself, though she swears she doesn’t want me there anyway. Part of me believes her since this is more difficult for her than it is for me, but I still wish I would have been able to help.”

He hums in response, squeezing me one last time before shifting me off him and standing from the bed. Moving to his closet, he grabs a pair of gray sweatpants, a black T-shirt and matching hoodie, a pair of briefs, and white socks. “Give me five minutes, and then I’ll bring you to your apartment, okay?”

Swallowing any disappointment down by his lack of response, I nod my head and push the comforter off of me. Grabbing my ruined jeans from the floor, I slide them on and thank God that Wolf’s ridiculously long shirt covers my vagina and all potentially offending parts of my body. I push my feet into my shoes, pull on my jacket, and then straighten up Wolf’s bed. Wolf’s place is almost uncomfortably neat, and I know from my experience in my apartment that he hates any form of disorganization or things out of place. I fluff the strangely high number of decorative pillows before arranging them in size order.

True to his word, Wolf walks back into his room five minutes later, fully showered and dressed. “You ready to go?”

“Yep.” I nod, picking my bag up off his dresser and following him out the door.

—

Wolf pulls his truck in front of my apartment complex and shifts it into park, idling at the curb. “Go up and change; I’ll wait down here for you.”

Whipping my head to Wolf, I shout, “What?”

He gives me a bored look like I should have known that he was coming with me to my mother’s house. “What kind of dick would I be if I let you pack shit up by yourself after you just told me how upsetting today was going to be for you?”

Furrowing my brow, I replay the words spoken earlier. “I never said today would be upsetting.”

“Princess, you cried on my chest when you spoke about your mom moving. You think packing up your bedroom is going to be a fucking laugh fest? Please.” He rolls his eyes, not hiding his opinion. “You’re wasting time. Go,” he orders, leaning over me to pop open the passenger side door.

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