Page 63 of I Got You

ME: Is there a former teenage boy whose ass I need to kick?

MAGGIE: No. I was dancing, remember.

ME: Go to bed. Hank is a good kid.

MAGGIE: Keep your phone on. If he’s hauled down to the clink, he’ll call you.

∞∞∞

I got home last night to find Maggie sitting in bed with a package of double stuff Oreos, watching SportsCenter. It only took about five minutes after I laid down in bed for her to try to covertly inch herself closer to me, burrow into my side, and fall asleep.

Now, I stand here watching her laugh with her friends amidst pink and purple streamers and balloons, not listening to the dude next to me drone on about insurance. I’m having a really hard time trying not to think about how I settled her. I was aware of every millimeter she scooted closer, but I kept my mouth shut because what she’ll never know is that the moment she fell asleep, I put my arm around her and pulled her closer.

I’ve gotten used to having her next to me, and now, when I’m in a hotel room alone, it feels weird. I miss her talking to me and cracking jokes, her softness, and the smell of vanilla and lavender.

We won the game, and my guys played great, but it was harder to be away from all of this than I would’ve ever imagined. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy being on the field coaching or being part of the game. I did. In fact, I’m finding it more rewarding than I could’ve expected.

I just haven’t ever had anyone other than myself to think about. For so long, I believed human interaction was overrated. I didn’t need it or care to let anyone close enough for it to matter. I’ve never had anyone to come home to, but when Maggie asked me what time I’d be home, it struck me. Home. My home was now with Maggie and these kids.

I knew I was giving up my quiet, simple life when I married Maggie. I hadn’t realized it was too quiet and too simple. Before, it didn’t matter if I was home or not. Now, people are waiting for me. Maggie was waiting and wanted me here.

“Do you have comprehensive coverage on your truck?” the guy next to me asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“Sorry, I need to go check on something.” I step away, not even trying to hide my annoyance, and make a beeline for the laundry room. Maggie must see me because two seconds later, she comes in and shuts the door.

“What are you doing?” Her beautiful face is scrunched into a frown.

“That guy is a prick, and if I stood there listening to him talk about insurance for one more second, I think I might rip my eardrums out in case I ever see him again.”

Maggie’s face relaxes, and she bursts out laughing, putting a hand over her mouth to cover the noise. “You…are being dramatic.” She wheezes and leans over, laughing. “He is kind of pricky.”

Her bright smile and laughter make everything lighter, like sunshine after a storm. She has no idea how beautiful she is.

“Maggie, I cannot talk to him. Not ever. I’ll punch him in the face to put us all out of our misery.”

She puts her hands on my biceps, laughing again and stifling her giggles with my chest. I think about putting my arms around her and pulling her closer, but I stop myself. More physical contact won’t help anything.

“Carmen and I can’t stand him either. I’m pretty sure John steers clear of him for the same reason. We have no idea why Simone is still with him.”

“Don’t make me go back out there.” Her face tips up, still bright and joyful. Those blue eyes that I missed in the stands yesterday twinkling. “Where’s Teddy? I’ll pay him to shoot a Nerf round at him.”

Maggie starts laughing again, and I want her to keep doing it. “Are birthday parties not your thing, big guy? Let’s go sing Happy Birthday and let Liv blow out her candles. Then we’ll shove cake at people and kick them out so we can watch Mark drop dimes, but stay with me. I got you. I won’t let that dipstick anywhere near you, Grizz.”

She grabs my hand and tugs me back out into the kitchen. I don’t need her to protect me, but I’ll pretend and go along with her dramatics to hold her hand a little longer. Her small hand inside mine is all I’ll allow, but when she intertwines her fingers with mine, a jolt of alarm zips up my spine and down my limbs. My pores explode, and my skin is instantly on fire but cool at the same time.

Maggie's other hand wraps around my forearm, her body close to mine, and I freeze. I know holding her hand is innocent, and she doesn’t mean anything by it, but somehow it feels too…intimate. I don’t want to give her the wrong idea or let her think I’m offering something I’m incapable of.

I drop her hand and step away, needing space and air to calm the hell down. Thankfully, Maggie doesn’t seem to notice. The last thing I want to do is confuse her or hurt her.

“Who’s ready for some cake?” she asks.

“Me,” Liv shouts from her perch on Cole’s lap, where she is fixing a tiara on his head. Hank sits next to him with a matching one cocked to the side. It’s a nice distraction, but I can’t laugh after she had one on my head a couple nights ago, along with three necklaces. I drew the line when it came to makeup.

Carmen lifts the cake from the counter while Maggie grabs plates, forks, and the lighter.

Over her shoulder, Maggie glances at me. “Stick with your man,” she winks. I want to stick with her as long as she’ll let me, but that’s just it. Eventually, whatever this is will fade…she’ll fade away.

I find a cold water bottle in the refrigerator, taking a second to pull myself together. I won’t mix things up with Maggie. She’s my wife. That’s it. I want to slam the door on my head. Maybe leave it in there, and see if I can find my commonsense lying around somewhere because I’m afraid it’s freaking gone.

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