Page 36 of Wrapped Around My Heart
“It’s fine. I’m getting used to it. Now what I don’t think I’ll get used to are these damn boobs.”
My eyes immediately drop to her chest, and sure enough, it’s obvious what she’s referring to. Her breasts have always been perfect in my eyes, slightly more than a handful and absolutely mesmerizing when she’s bouncing on my dick. And right now? They somehow look even fuller. It’s an effort not to drool.
“I mean, you won’t hear me complaining about them.”
She rolls her eyes but still smiles while mumbling something under her breath. She turns to grab a box of pasta from the cupboard behind her and my eyes trail down her backside to admire her round ass.
Fuck, she is perfect.
“Dean?”
Shaking my head, I find Ari staring at me with a knowing smirk. It’s clear she asked me something, but I was too busy admiring her to hear.
“Sorry, what?”
“How many pieces of garlic bread do you want?” She holds up the box of bread.
“Uh, two.”
While she pops a few pieces into the oven, I try to stay focused on the main reason that I stayed for dinner.
The next question that pops in my head makes my stomach swirl with unease.
“When do you want to tell your family?” I leave off the fact that I’m mostly curious about telling Landon. For the life of me, I can’t even begin to imagine how he’ll react.
The fact that he’s the captain of my team aside, he’s also my best friend. He’s the one person I’ve always told almost everything to. Until I started sneaking around with his sister.
Ari squares her shoulders and picks up the spoon to stir the pasta as she answers.
“I was thinking we should wait until I’m at least out of the first trimester. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous to tell my brother more than anyone, so maybe I’m procrastinating telling him more than anything. Plus, it is still early…”
She trails off and I cross the kitchen, stepping up behind her, and carefully take the spoon from her hand. Setting it down on the colorful ceramic dish she has, I gather her in my arms.
Ari melts into me immediately, wrapping her arms around me and holding me just as tightly.
“It’s gonna be okay,” I tell her, crossing my fingers that I didn’t just lie to her, and kiss the top of her head. “We can wait as long as you want.”
Her head drops back so she can look up at me.
“What about your family? Are you okay to wait?”
My chest tightens, the familiar ache turning to ice as it spreads through my veins. The only other time I’ve opened up about my family was years ago. It was my first Christmas on the team and Landon asked me what my holiday plans were. Even then I kept it simple. I told him I don’t have anyone and would probably end up at the rink. He took one look at me, didn’t ask for more information or demand details, and told me I was coming with him to his parents.
But Arianna is different. She deserves to know the family history of the man she’s having a baby with.
Clearing my throat, I back away. The loss of Arianna’s warmth does nothing to help the pain I’ve never gotten used to. She lets me move away without comment, and I focus on finding us dishes for dinner as I answer.
“There’s no one for me to tell. Outside of your family and the team, that is.”
I find the cabinet where she keeps the glasses and start filling two with water for us. The tension in the air is thick and it’s Ari that speaks up first.
“I won’t ask if you don’t want me to,” she whispers and my lips twitch at her kindness.
“I want to. I’ve just never talked about it with anyone before.”
The timer on the oven beeps, signaling that the garlic bread is done. Ari moves with ease, plucking the bread onto a plate before grabbing the pot to drain the water from the pasta. We go through the motions of filling bowls and moving to her kitchen table, the weight of the conversation hanging between us. Only once we’re both seated with our food in front of us do I start to unload everything.
“I never knew who my dad was. Anytime I asked about him, Mom would roll her eyes and joke that it was probably the cashier at the local grocery store.” I take a sip of water, giving myself a second before continuing. “My mom was an addict. Alcohol. Pills. Anything that gave her a high, she would take without a second thought. The only time I ever saw her sober was the nine months she was pregnant with my brother. His dad didn’t stick around once he found out he was gonna be a dad, but those nine months were…probably the only happy memories I have from my childhood. Which is saying something since I was ten when he was born.”
