Page 39 of A Million Times, Yes
“Clementine,” he groaned.
“That’s it.”
He shrugged. “I dumped her.”
“Why?” I lined up the ball right in front of his putter and pointed at the hole at the end of the green.
“She was sticky.”
“Sticky?”
“Like glue, Uncle J.” He spread his legs the right distance apart and positioned his arms just the way his father and I had taught him. “Everywhere I went, she was there.”
“It’s some miracle that you’re not my child, I swear.” I laughed again. “So, you’re telling me you’re taking a break from the ladies?”
He putted, lining up the ball two inches from the hole.
“Nice shot,” I told him.
He ran to collect the balls and brought them back, dropping them on the tip of the green. “Dad says I’m too young to fall in love.”
“I agree with him. Love is off-limits until you’re my age, and even then it’s questionable.”
“I guess I’m taking a break, then. No Clementine. No anyone.”
“You mean until next week?” I winked at him. “You take after the Worthington boys, you can’t stay away even if you wanted to.”
He smiled at me and giggled. “I want a sleepover, Uncle J.”
“I’ll talk to your dad, and I’ll make that happen very soon.”
“What aboutMaya?” He made a face at me. “Are you in love? Are you guys gonna kiss and get married and all that lovey-dovey kinda stuff?”
I huffed. “No.”
I also wasn’t having this conversation with my seven-year-old nephew.
“No?” Gavin asked as he appeared in my office. “It didn’t sound that way when we were talking about her earlier.”
“Jesus,” I moaned. I pointed at my brother. “Enough from you.” I then shifted my finger to my nephew. “And definitely enough from you. Both of you—out. I need to get work done.”
Maya:I just got home from work. I’m going to take a quick shower and head to the hotel. Want me to bring anything?
Me:Don’t shower. I want you to do that here.
Maya:But I smell like a nurse, and I promise, it’s not a pretty scent.
Me:Don’t shower, Maya.
Me:And don’t bring anything. I just want you.
“Are you ready to do this?” Maya asked as we walked out the front of the hotel with our workout clothes on to begin our five-mile run.
I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Neither had she.
Although my face had spent a decent amount of time between her legs, things had gone much further than that, starting in the shower, where I’d washed her with bubbles, and moving to the couch, the bar top, the wall in the bedroom, and finally the bed.
My body was stiff. I needed my vitamins and an appointment with my masseuse and an hour in the steam room to loosen up. A run would only strain my muscles more, which wouldn’t do me any good.
