Chapter 9 Laney
Chapter nine
Laney
Daddy Around Town Vibes
“Laney?” Dee calls as she storms inside. I texted her the equivalent of a novel when Miguel all but shoved me into my bedroom to get undressed.
The man’s touch is so confusing. It’s comforting like a six foot four, dark haired, dark eyed, thigh tatted weighted blanket.
But it’s also brief and fleeting, like when you pick up a mozzarella stick and it’s too hot so you drop it on your plate and then immediately try to pick it up again because you want it.
You know it’s going to burn if you take a bite. You know you’re in for pain.
But you can’t stop yourself.
Miguel is a mozzarella stick.
“In here.” I mumble through my S’mores Pop-Tart.
“Are you okay?” She asks as she barrels through the door sending a wave of air across my body. “Where’s Miguel?”
“He went to get the bikes. He’s going to bring mine back here I think.”
“Okay, do you need me to do anything?” Dee asks.
“Nope, just be here. Be a buffer between Miguel and I.”
Dee’s eyes blow wide and her smile follows.
“It’s not like that.” I tell her. Yet. I add in my head.
“Sure it’s not. Tell me, just how much help in this little bath did you need from your coach?”
“Shut up.”
“Ohmygods he bathed you?!” Dee slumps down onto the toilet. She realizes too late the lid isn’t down and she quickly stands, drops it, and then sits again.
“No, not quite, but he did help with my hair.”
“Holy fuck you had a man brush your hair?”
“Yeah.” I sigh wistfully. I wanted to tie my hair in actual knots to keep him at his task. The light tug of the roots was incredibly soothing. Each brush of his fingertips along my back as he repositioned my hair was like being petted by lightning. Exhilarating and comforting all at once.
“I’m so glad I came back from work for this.” Dee says as she watches me. “This is like stuff from a teen drama where the parents get after it too.”
“Hardly.” I scoff.
“Oh, it totally is. He’s way older than you so it’s like a friend’s dad tension.”
“It’s thirteen years, he’s not old enough to be my dad.”
“Fine, maybe not friend’s dad, but like, older daddy around town vibes for sure.”
I roll my eyes.
“Then you practically drown and he saves you?!” Dee gasps incredulously.
“Not exactly what happened.”
“But in my TV show that’s how it would go.” Dee straightens. “Laney, was he a perfect gentleman while you were naked and wet in front of him?”
I pull my lips between my teeth to contain my guilty smile.
“Yeah, see, he’d leave the apartment, there would be a commercial break, and when the show came back on after selling me tampons, a new car, insurance for a home I don’t own, and trying to get me to buy tickets to a stock car race, he’d be in his car visibly wound up.”
Unfortunately, I can picture the scene exactly. And instead of some too pretty actor, I see Miguel with all the lines and character of his face.
“Okay, it’s exactly like one of those shows.” Dee claps rapidly and kicks her feet at my admission. “But he was very clear, we won’t let attraction get in the way. This is professional. He’s helping me get better.”
“In bed.” She interrupts and I sputter a laugh.
“No, not in bed.”
Yet.
With my body temperature finally back to normal I can acknowledge how fucking glorious it felt to be held by Miguel.
He smelled like mucky lake water but the hint of cinnamon gum lingered on his breath and it warmed me as he kept me close.
“Sure, we’ll just have to see about that." Dee says and I’m snapped back from my wistful daydreams of Miguel.
“Shut up.” I mumble as I reach forward to unplug the drain. “You working all day today?”
“No, I told my boss I’m taking the morning off but I have to be back by noon for a client workshop all afternoon.”
“Okay.” My muscles are stiff as I climb out of the tub. A combination of the cold from this morning and the expected soreness forty-eight hours after a race. Dee hands me a towel and I wrap myself up. A shiver runs down my body and Dee drapes my robe over my shoulders.
“Let’s get you dried off and dressed. Then bundled under a blanket on the sofa.”
“Okay.” I agree and I let her lead me to my room.
“What else do you have today?” She asks as she pulls fleece lined sweats from my drawer.
“Dog walking. I start at eleven and have clients until three.”
“Hmm, okay. Well I can help with the one at eleven but not after that.”
Before I get a chance to tell her Miguel offered to help, our buzzer sounds.
Dee turns to me with mirth in her eyes.
“Be nice. Be chill. Please Dee.”
“I got you girlie!” She calls out as she dashes to the front. “Coming!”
“He can’t hear you until you press the intercom.” I remind her as I slide into a Northwestern sweatshirt.
“Oh hel-low.” Dee says and I roll my eyes. “Welcome to our home.”
I walk down the hallway into the front room and see Dee sweeping her arm out wide.
“I’ve already been here.” He says, giving Dee a sideways glance. “How’s Laney?”
“I’m good.” I say instead of giving Dee free reign to answer his question.
“Good.” He nods as his eyes trail from my head to my bare toes. “You need socks too.”
“Yes sir.” Dee whispers as she walks past me.
“Cut it out.” I hiss and then I look back to Miguel. “Thanks for coming back.”
“Your bike is in the hallway.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He glances around. “What else do you need?”
“Noth–” I start.
“She needs someone to walk dogs for her today. So she can rest.” Dee says as she steps back into the room and shoves a pair of socks into my stomach.
“Nah, it’s okay, I’ll cancel.”
“You can’t afford to cancel.” Dee says.
“What do you mean?” Miguel asks.
My former best friend replies for me. “She needs the cash from dog walking this week to pay me back for her new shoes.”
“She needs a new wetsuit too.” Miguel says and I feel heat return to my cheeks.
“Sure, that too.” Dee shrugs.
“I already said I’d do them with you today.” Miguels says.
“What?” I question, only sort of remembering this conversation.
“Perfect.” Dee confirms.
“Yeah, just tell me what has to happen.” Miguel says as he pops a piece of gum into his mouth.
“Okay, sure. Well, the first one is at eleven but Dee–”
“Is happy to let you and Miguel handle it.” Dee says as she slings her bag over her shoulder. “You all set here?” She asks me.
I shrug. How the hell should I know?
“She’s fine.” Miguel tells Dee.
“I know.” Dee winks at him. Winks. “I can see why you have a lion tattoo.”
Dee’s eyes drop down to Miguel’s thigh, which is covered by a pair of joggers completely covering my lion friend from her gaze, and I want to die of mortification.
His deep brown eyes slowly move to me and then they narrow. “Told your roommate about my tattoo?”
I cross my arms. “I appreciate well drawn ink, that’s all.”
He nods and snaps the gum with his tongue.
“Alrighty, toodles Laney-Loo!” Dee calls out as she opens the door. “Text me updates!”
I grind my teeth as my closed lip smile stretches my cheeks.
I’m going to kill her.
She has the matchmaking subtly of one of her shows.
But I can’t spend my limited mental capacity on revenge plots for my roommate’s meddling.
Because Miguel is here again.
“Did you shower?” I ask because his hair is combed back and he’s in different clothes.
“I went home, showered, and got my truck to get the bikes.”
Our feet stay planted to the spot. It’s like we both feel the allure of the other but refuse to act on it.
I don’t know exactly what he’s thinking but I’m thinking I want to curl up with him and fucking purr while he pulls his fingers through my hair again.
“Did you eat?” He asks, pulling me from my feline daydream.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Just that one pastry?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He says and then he moves through to the kitchen. I turn and watch him open the fridge and shuffle a few things around. He closes it and turns to me. “You feeling strong enough for a trip to the grocery store?”
“I guess so, why?”
“Because I’m going to use the next few hours to cook meals for you to have throughout the week and then we’re going to walk dogs together and then I’ll go home and draw up your training and nutrition plan.”
Yes sir. I think to myself and struggle to contain my smile. I think I understand the appeal of competence porn now because things unlocked inside me with Miguel’s offer to plan and lead me through it. “Sounds like a plan, Coach.”