Chapter 12
Sloan’s entire body draped naked over top of me is a sensation I never imagined I’d enjoy so much. She’s light but long, so it’s an even distribution of weight. Comforting in many ways.
It’s odd because, when I think back to a year ago, there were so many textures that bothered me.
So many things I avoided because of my tactile defensiveness that Sloan aptly diagnosed the first time we ever met.
But the closer I’ve grown to Sloan—the more she’s around me—the less I notice those issues.
Life is funny like that.
The morning sunlight streams in through the windows of our suite. My fingertips trace the length of her spine as I drop a kiss in her hair. God, she always smells so fucking good. The sweet scent that I hated the first time I met her has become something I crave.
She is the only reason I’m not waking up with a sense of dread after everything that happened last night with my family. If it weren’t for Sloan, I probably would have been on a flight back home, back to Manchester, and back to the reclusive life I lived for over a decade.
But she stabilised me last night. She held me together and made me strong, just as I did for her the first time we slept together.
Sloan begins to stir on top of me when a knock sounds off on the door. My father’s muffled voice follows.
“Gareth, it’s me. I need to speak to you.”
Sloan’s head shoots up, her sleepy eyes wide and surprised on mine that are aimed down at her. With a smile, I push her hair back from her face and run my finger along the sleep creases on her cheek. “It’s just my dad. I’ll go deal with him. You sleep.”
She shakes her head and blinks rapidly, trying to wake all of her senses. “No, no. I’ll get up and leave so you guys can talk in private,” she croaks and moves to scramble off of me.
In one quick shot, I wrap my hand around her leg and roll us so she’s beneath me. Her legs naturally wrap around my hips as I use one hand to pin her wrists together above her head. My other hand squeezes her leg, my fingertips venturing near the crease of her arse.
Her golden eyes dart up at me with a dazed look of confusion. “Gareth, what are you doing?”
I drop a kiss on her neck and slide my free hand up to squeeze her arse cheek. “I said stay, Treacle.”
She bucks lightly beneath me as I blow warm air over the part of her neck I just kissed. Her voice is breathy when she replies, “Don’t you need to talk to your dad?”
“Yes and I’m commanding you to stay in this bed while I do.” I tighten my grip around her wrists and press myself deep into her centre. A low moan escapes my lips when I feel the dampness of her along my bare shaft. “Fucking hell, Sloan. You’re wet already?”
I watch her bite her lip and shake her head. “God, this is embarrassing with your dad right outside. At least let me put some clothes on.”
“No,” I growl as my erection grows harder by the second from holding her beneath me like this. It’s a heady feeling to have her completely at my mercy. And knowing she’s wet and wanting makes it really hard to not just thrust into her right here and now.
I take a deep breath and lift my head to look up at her. “You will stay naked and waiting in this bed until I get back or I will spank you for not following instructions, Tre. Understood?”
A small smile spreads over her face, and she quickly bites her lip to try to hide it. “Understood.”
I grin and move in to pull her lower lip out from between her teeth and suck it into my mouth. I release it with a satisfying pop and add, “Good girl. I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
I throw myself off the bed and yell toward the door, “I’ll be out in five.”
After an ice-cold shower and a few minutes of mental preparation, I open the door to find my father propped against the opposite wall. He’s dressed in a pair of tan trousers and a white dress shirt, clearly ready for the wake that’s happening in a couple hours.
His steely eyes look me up and down, taking in my athletic shorts and wet hair. “Did I wake you?”
I nod and run a hand through my hair. “It’s fine.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you would have been out running hours ago.”
“I said it’s fine,” I reply, ignoring his dig about my workout regime that he can’t stop himself from slipping in there. Always the manager first, father second.
“I wanted to talk before the ceremony.”
He steps back as I close the door behind me. “Let’s go outside. Sloan is still in bed.”
I see a flicker of interest in his expression at the mention of Sloan. “You two seem to be getting on well.”
“We are,” I reply with no emotion so he can tell it isn’t a subject I’m wanting to discuss.
We make our way outside to a table and chairs by the pool. It’s early, so there’s only one small family out in the water as we settle in a couple of plastic seats under a white tent. Both of us face the pool with our elbows braced on our knees.
After a long pause, my father finally says, “Gareth, last night was—”
“A fucking mess,” I finish.
“Yes,” he agrees, looking down and rubbing his hands together nervously. “A lot of things were said.”
I nod stiffly, my jaw clenched. If he thinks I’m taking them back, he has another thing coming. “They were all true.”
He grimaces and runs a nervous hand through his hair. “I know they were. But, to be honest, I’ve buried a lot of those memories. They feel like they were from another lifetime. Another person even.”
“Not for me,” I reply, cutting him a severe look.
“I know,” he replies with a sigh. “And now I understand why you wouldn’t talk to me about moving back to London. I never realised how much you truly hate me.”
His words bring me up short. “I don’t hate you.”
He turns his weathered eyes to me, pain and confusion all over his face. “You don’t?”
“No,” I reply with a scoff. “I’m just angry at you.”
His face softens. “But can’t you see I’m trying to make up for the past?”
“Dad, you can host all the Sunday dinners in the world, change all of Rocky’s nappies, and hug complete strangers if you’d like. But acting like the past never happened is a fucking slap in the face after everything Vi and I did.”
“Gareth,” Dad groans, his head bowed in shame. “I don’t mean it to be. I’m just trying to survive.”
“So am I!” I exclaim, my muscles tensing all over my body.
“And I was just trying to survive when we were kids, too. Most nine-year-old boys are out playing footy with their friends, not potty-training their twin brothers. Most male teenagers I knew had loads of girlfriends. I never had one because I was too terrified to bring anyone around you, not to mention I never had time for dating because I was too busy taking care of everyone. You weren’t even remotely normal again until you started working for Bethnal.
Then it was suddenly business as usual! Do you have any idea how that felt to a young boy who had been trying to make you happy for years? ”
Dad winces at my last comment and shakes his head as if he can’t bring himself to reply, so I reply for him.
“It felt like nothing I did was ever good enough. No matter how hard Vi and I tried, nothing pulled you out of that darkness. Only football. Then you went on and on last night about the importance of family. Where was that man when we were kids? The man we grew up with didn’t give a toss about family. He only cared about football!”
“I’ve changed, Gareth,” he pleads, turning to face me with an urgent expression on his face, all the veins in his neck protruding as he attempts to hold himself together. “Please tell me you can see that I’ve changed.”
“Of course I can see. Bloody hell, you’re wearing sandals for Christ’s sake,” I reply flippantly and sit back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.
He watches me carefully for a minute, unamused by my remark, but I don’t care. He doesn’t deserve much better.
Running a hand through his hair, he composes himself before replying, “Gareth, when you were attacked…” He pauses, his voice catching in his throat as he looks away. “When Vi called me crying so hard that she couldn’t speak, I thought I lost you.”
The pain in his expression unnerves me as I watch him shift in his chair, directing his focus at the family swimming instead of me.
“And I thought to myself, It’s happened again.
I’ve hurt and lost the one person I owe my life to…
Just like when I lost your mother.” His voice breaks and his face contorts as he fights back the feelings boiling up inside of him.
“I swore a long time ago I’d never return to Manchester because it holds too many tender memories for me, but I didn’t want to abandon you the way I did your mother.
I was certain if I could get up there and just get you home, everything would be okay.
It wasn’t until Sloan shouted at me that I even truly realised what I was trying to do. ”
Emotion swells in my chest at his mention of how she stood up to him for me that day. “She’s not an easy one to fight off,” I reply.
“I can see that, and now I can say I’m grateful for it because Lord only knows what could have happened to you if I had gotten you down to London.
I wasn’t seeing things clearly, but I could see that she was there beside you the way I should have been beside your mother.
And seeing you two together like that was a wake-up call, Gareth.
That’s why I’m trying so hard right now.
I want to be the man your mother fell in love with.
The man I was when you were little and she used to bring you to the football pitch to watch me practice…
Do you remember any of the good times, Gareth? Or have I spoiled all your memories?”
I stiffen as images flood my mind that I’ve been trying to keep away for years. “I remember some.”