24. Sarina
twenty-four
sarina
Sweeten the ‘Benefits’ Package
“S omething’s been up with you the past three days.” Nisha twirls around to face me, eyeing me from her perch on my styling chair like I’m a prime suspect in a federal investigation. “All you said was Troy came to check up on Rome that night after the bee sting incident, but I get the feeling that wasn’t the whole story.”
“I agree,” Piper chimes in, walking into my suite with her arms crossed over her chest. She closes the door behind her before turning back to face me, and I notice her face looks a little flushed . . . glowing, maybe? “You’ve been acting strange. Smiling to yourself, checking your phone nonstop . . . distracted. What are you not telling us?”
I continue to unbox the styling products I just received, placing them on my shelf. I wonder if I should keep them guessing a little longer just to be annoying or come out and tell them. I’ve never been any good at hiding much from either of them for long—not that I ever have a reason to—but watching them get riled up secretly brings me so much joy.
I place one last item on the shelf before turning to get my purse from the drawer I keep it in. Unzipping it, I sift through the various packets of mustard before I find the two wrappers I am looking for. I hand one to each of my best friends.
Nisha pinches the corner of the wrapper between her index finger and thumb like she’s holding a dirty tampon. “What is this?”
“A glow-in-the-dark condom?” Piper asks, her nose wrinkling in confusion.
I purse my lips, holding back my smile. “Not just any glow-in-the-dark condom, but one that looks like an alien with antennas.”
Nisha’s brows bunch together. “What does this have to do with?—”
“Oh my God!” Piper gasps. “You finally caved! You had sex with Troy!”
“Holy shit!” Nisha exclaims, a smile spreading on her face. “So when you said he came that night, you meant it in more than one way.”
My face flames, but I can’t help the smile that spreads across it. “Yeah, something like that.”
“And you used one of these condoms?” Piper looks down at the wrapper, perplexed.
I shrug. “He didn’t have one, and I’d gotten a few of them from the bridal event I did recently.” I cover my face with my hands, both embarrassed and excited. “It was incredible, but also hilarious. His dick literally glowed green, like . . .”
“Like E.T. was trying to phone home from between your legs,” Piper finishes for me, making Nisha and me snort out a laugh.
“Okay, spare me the extraterrestrial details, but start from the beginning.” Nisha waves her hand to urge me on. “What happened?”
“Well . . .” I lean back against a wall. “I think it was the fact that he came over to check on Rome, right after I’d gotten off the phone with Jamie, where he told me to tell our son to toughen up. Troy looked as worried as I felt, and I don’t know. Something just . . . clicked.”
“Wait . . .” Piper reels back. “He looked worried, so you threw him a condom and asked him to probe you with his Martian dick?”
I roll my eyes. “No, it didn’t happen that quickly. He . . .” I clear my throat. “He saw me without my makeup. I’d washed my face and hadn’t covered my vitiligo.”
“Oh, wow,” Nisha breathes, knowing how self-conscious I am about it.
“He was really . . .” I can’t help the smile that touches my lips when I think about how sincere he was; how many times he told me how beautiful I was. “Really sweet.”
“I never doubted he would be. He’s a great guy, Sarina.”
“So, are you guys dating now?” Piper asks, flipping her long, honey-brown hair over her shoulder. I can see the excitement in her expression; how much she wants this for me.
“Not quite,” I answer, watching Piper’s smile drop. “I suppose we’re what you’d suggested when we were at dinner at my dad’s house—friends with benefits.”
The words taste bitter on my tongue, like a medicine I need to swallow but want to spit out at the same time.
For three nights, Troy has come over after both our kids are in bed, sneaking out before sunrise like we’re teenagers with curfews. And despite what we agreed to—despite what I keep insisting it is—nothing about us feels casual.
Not when his hands grip me as I ride him, like I’m his only anchor to the world. Not when his molten amber eyes hold mine, saying the words his lips hold back. And definitely not when he whispers words like, “you drive me crazy” and “I’ll never get my fill of you” against my lips.
Not to mention all the other dirty things he murmurs when we’re in bed.
My thighs clench as the memories heat my skin.
“But why?” Nisha asks, gazing into my eyes like she’s searching for the truth in them. “Why, when it’s obvious it’s so much more than just sex between you two?”
“Because in a few months—as early as six more months, in fact, given how well his physical therapy is going—he will be going back to the MLB. Back to that life.” I gather the smaller empty boxes and place them inside the biggest one, reminding myself to throw them out after our chat. “This way, we both get what we want without making things complicated.”
“Right,” Piper drawls. “Because having casual sex with someone you clearly have feelings for never gets complicated.”
“And I don’t even think it’s just feelings at this point.” Nisha places one knee over the other and leans back in my chair like she’s planning on staying there all day. “I think it’s more than that. You’re falling for him.”
“I’m not falling for him,” I insist, feeling my pulse pick up.
Both my annoying sister and best friend stare at me wordlessly, as if that’s the only response they’ll deign me.
“I’m not,” I repeat, convincing no one in the room, possibly not even myself.
“Uh huh,” Piper says before bouncing on her toes. Her hand flies to her mouth. “Ooh, speaking of being in love and love being dicked, I also have some news!”
Nisha and I exchange a look before she asks, “What is it?”
“Well . . .” Piper’s whole face lights up as she drags out the word. “It’s really early so I don’t want to get too excited, but . . .” Her smile stretches across her face, and both Nisha and I instinctively go to her. “Dev and I are going to have a baby!”
“What?!” Tears immediately prick the corners of my eyes as Nisha and I wrap our friend in a hug. “Are you serious?”
Nisha wipes a tear that rolls down her cheek, grinning widely. “How far along are you? How are you feeling?” She sniffs. “God, I’m so happy for you! Do you know how many baby clothes I’m going to knit for this kid?”
“And we’ll treasure everything you make.” Piper beams, holding us both in a hug. Her green eyes shimmer, and I know she’s holding back tears, too. “I don’t know exactly how far along I am—maybe a month? But Dev and I are going to the doctor tomorrow to confirm. We’re both so happy. You guys know how Dev is; he’s already researching things like organic baby food and the safest car seats on the market.” She rolls her eyes, but her smile betrays her annoyance. “He’s also having our bedroom shifted downstairs because he doesn’t want me climbing the stairs.”
“Don’t you guys have an elevator in that crazy-ass mansion of yours?” Nisha asks.
“Yes.” Piper shakes her head with a huff. “But he’s worried I’ll get stuck inside it without my phone or something. Who knows what sort of intrusive thoughts go on behind that beautiful head of his? I decided I’m not going to argue with a crazy person.”
“Well, he’s crazy about you, that’s for sure,” I say, my heart bursting with joy for my friend.
“Just wait until the baby’s born.” Nisha grins. “He’s going to bubble wrap your entire house. Probably put additional security around the premises and hire a team of pediatricians on standby.”
Piper groans, but she’s still smiling. “God, I know. The man is adorably insane when it comes to me”—she runs her hand down her flat stomach—“and he’ll be the same about this little bean.”
We’re still giggling and talking when I hear Joshua speaking to someone in the reception area. Peering out into the hallway, my breath catches at the sight of Troy. He’s standing with his hands tucked inside his pockets, watching Pearl giggle as she dangles her red braids in front of a suddenly sociable Snatch to bat at.
Just the sight of him in his dark jeans and gray hoodie has my stomach doing flips. He’s opted for a black beanie instead of his usual white baseball cap, and somehow, the dark blond hair curled at the nape of his neck has him looking even sexier.
How does a man make casual wear look better than a tailored suit? The way his hoodie stretches across his broad shoulders brings back flashes of last night—my lips trailing over his skin, the groan that rumbled through his chest when I sucked and bit that spot where his neck meets his shoulder. His fingers had dug into my hips, his pace desperate beneath me as I rode him, like he was a man possessed.
“So much for keeping things casual,” Piper whispers behind me. “Is he here for another haircut or to sneak in a quickie?”
“Shut up!” I hiss, waving her and my sister out of my suite. “Pearl asked me to give her a haircut when we went camping, so I asked Troy to bring her in today since I only had a couple of clients. Apparently, she won’t let anyone cut her hair.”
As if she knows I’m talking about her, Pearl spots me before a broad smile stretches over her face. She’s wearing a light green sweater with an open seashell revealing a perfect pearl stitched in the middle. Her braids fly behind her as she runs to me with her arms outstretched.
I bend to wrap her up in a hug, noting that her nose and cheeks are red—matching the color of her hair—from the chilly November day we’re having. As she pulls back, her hazel eyes sparkle. She is so darn cute, I have to fight the urge to pull her back into an embrace again. I gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a tenderness and affection that seems natural whenever I’m with her.
“Do you like my sweater?” she signs, pointing to the graphic on it. “Daddy got it for me. It’s a pearl, like my name!”
“It’s beautiful,” I sign back. “Just like you.”
She gleams, fingers moving. “Thank you. You’re beautiful, too.”
“Thank you.” I tug one of her braids gently. “Did you think about how much you want to cut?”
“Not too much,” she signs seriously. “Daddy said he loves my princess hair.”
I smile. “Your daddy is right. You do have very pretty princess hair. We’ll just give it a trim, then.”
Troy’s footsteps approaching us have me looking up at him. His eyes hold mine with an intensity that makes goosebumps erupt over my skin. “Hi.”
“Mr. Winters,” I manage with a smile, trying to ignore how his proximity makes me feel warm all over—a sublime heat that collects in my belly and makes my fingertips tingle. “How are you doing this evening?”
His golden-hued eyes darken beneath his beanie. “Much better now.”
For all my talk about wanting this to stay casual, my galloping heart and my tingling skin clearly missed the memo around this guy.
Dragging my eyes back to Pearl, I ask her if she’s ready for her haircut. She nods before turning to wrap her little arms around her dad’s legs, looking up at him with a wide smile that makes my heart squeeze.
Troy runs a tender and reverent hand over her head before signing, “Ready, Princess?”
She nods enthusiastically before unclasping herself from her dad and reaching out for my hand in a way that feels natural, as if she’s done it hundreds of times. A small flutter catches in my chest as her tiny fingers entangle with mine—this sweet little girl who trusts easily, despite having had her fair share of disappointment—and I lead her down the hallway to my suite.
I’m just settling her into my styling chair when I hear a loud crash outside. I tell her to stay put so I can go check it out, only to see the bonsai tree Dad recently gave me knocked over from the table in the hallway, the small pot cracked and soil spilled everywhere.
My startled eyes turn to look at an equally startled Troy, who has his hands up. “I know you’re not going to believe me, but I swear, that was your satanic cat again. She did that thing where she looked me dead in the eyes and deliberately pushed your tree over. Then she ran from the scene to let me take the blame.”
“Right.” I cross my arms over my chest, masking my smile with leveled lips. “Because my reserved cat, who rarely misbehaves, has a vendetta against you.”
“She does!” Troy barks, pointing to where Snatch disappeared. “That wrinkly nudist has it out for me.”
I gasp in mock horror. “Firstly, she’s wearing a unicorn jumper. It’s couture, thank you very much. And secondly, if you keep insulting her, I might have to reconsider our . . . extracurricular activities .”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me, Winters.” I arch my brow. “Apologize to my cat and confess to your crime. If I find it satisfactory, I’ll keep our arrangement.” I scoot closer so my chest touches his. “Hell, maybe I’ll even sweeten the ‘benefits’ package and let you explore my ‘uncharted’ territory you were so interested in last night.”
Troy’s nostrils flare before he looks over my shoulder for anyone watching. He pulls my hips toward his, ensuring I feel the steel pipe behind his jeans. I swear, my panties pool with the desire coursing through me.
“You want me to apologize to your miscreant cat, even though she constantly tries to frame me for shit?”
I get up on my tiptoes, my breath fanning his lips. “I don’t make the rules, Mr. Winters; I just make sure they’re followed.”
His hands curl around my ass and just as I’m about to close the distance between our lips, the door to the salon chimes open, and I quickly take a step back, getting out of his hold.
But not before I lock eyes with my ex-husband.
Jamie’s jaw tightens, his astute gaze taking in my proximity to Troy. It’s clear he saw Troy’s hands drop from my hips. Rome appears from behind Jamie, his mouth turned downward, though he seems oblivious to the tension-filled moment.
Rome’s face lights up as he looks from Troy to me, rushing toward us. And just like I did with Pearl earlier, I pull him into a hug, feeling him relax in my arms.
“How was your time at the driving range with your dad?”
“It was . . .” He looks over his shoulder at his dad, and I already know he’s going to do what he always does—fib for the sake of keeping the peace. “Good.”
“It would have been great if he’d focused more on his swing,” Jamie says, strolling up behind Rome, his eyes bouncing between Troy and me with keen interest. He got back from Florida yesterday, and this was the first time he’s seen Rome since the bee sting incident—not that it mattered to him to say a few encouraging words to our son about how brave he was through the whole ordeal.
The temperature in the hallway seems to lower as I watch Troy straighten. He’s only a couple of inches taller than Jamie, but the way he stands makes him look like he’s towering over him. And the scathing look he gives my ex-husband doesn’t mask his impression of him.
“That’s surprising. Rome’s baseball swing is one of the best on our team. Perfect hip rotation and great follow-through with power and precision. He’s a natural.”
Jamie’s eyes harden, sweeping over Troy. “And you are?”
Ha! Like he doesn’t know one of the most recognizable faces in sports.
“Troy Winters. I’m temporarily coaching your son’s baseball team.” Troy’s stance seems casual, but his tone is anything but. “Your son has serious talent. In fact, he’s going to be pitching in the next game.”
Rome’s eyes widen. “Really?”
Troy places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I think you’re ready, buddy.”
Rome bounces on his toes, tugging my hand. “Did you hear that, Mom? I’m ready!” He looks over at Troy. “I figured out why we lost the last game.”
“Oh yeah? Why?”
“Because I’d forgotten to put your baseball card in my back pocket.”
Troy’s brows pinch together. “What?”
“You know how you always kiss Pearl’s picture before a game? Well, I usually put your baseball card in my pocket. I’d forgotten that day.”
Troy’s gaze softens, his throat bobbing before he smiles down at my son. “I’m honored that you do that, little man.”
Jamie’s jaw ticks. “Rome, what did I tell you about silly rituals and superstitions? That’s not what makes a good athlete. And unfortunately, baseball is riddled with overgrown boys who think wearing the same underwear on game day will help them win a game.”
Rome looks down at his shoes. “Yes, Dad.”
I start to speak, ready to rail into my asshole ex, when Troy cuts in.
His tone is even and controlled, betraying the ire I can feel radiating off him. I get the feeling that if Rome wasn’t standing here, Troy would have verbally eviscerated Jamie. Instead, he keeps his expression neutral, though I don’t miss the way his eyes harden.
“Actually,” he says, his hand giving an encouraging squeeze to my son’s shoulder, “what makes good athletes is their passion and dedication to the sport—something your son has plenty of.” He smiles down at Rome. “And as for rituals and superstitions? Sometimes they help calm nerves, making us feel like we’re in control of the outcome. Plus, there’s nothing wrong with asking for luck to be on our side.”
Rome smiles up at Troy, and Jamie’s eyes snap to me as if I’m personally to blame for our son’s adoration of another man. “Sarina, can I speak to you privately?”
Troy makes no effort to move, glaring at my ex-husband with barely held disdain, and something about the way he holds my son—affectionately, protectively—stirs something inside me.
This man who’s not only reliable but loyal, accepting, and kind. A man who showed up for my son, even when his own father refused. A man who treats him—and me—not as a project to perfect but as a person worthy of understanding, encouragement, and . . . love.
“Troy, Rome, do you mind going into my suite? Pearl’s been waiting for me for quite a while. I’m sure she’s getting restless. Can you tell her I’ll be in momentarily?”
I wait until Troy and Rome disappear into my suite before I turn to Jamie. Despite the years that have passed since our divorce and how much stronger I’ve become as a person, Jamie has always had a way of making me feel insignificant.
“What do you need, Jamie?”
“So this is why you were insistent on baseball for Rome?” He snorts derisively. “So you could sleep with his coach? Oh, and let’s not forget”—he leans in as if revealing a secret—“he’s also a professional athlete. Despite your repeated declaration that you didn’t want to be with me because I was an athlete?—”
“And a cheater,” I cut in.
His hands fist at his sides. “You had no proof of that then, and you have none now. In any case, I hope you know what you’re doing, given you’re clearly going down the same path again.” He eyes me like he would a stain on his perfectly pressed pants. “Not that you look any more the part than you did then. The past four years haven’t done you any favors.”
I square my shoulders, not letting him see the way his words stir my insecurities. “Thank you for the show of concern, but my personal life no longer requires your input. But Rome? He still cares about what you think; he still wants to make you proud. It’s the entire reason he goes golfing with you—not because he enjoys it, but because he’ll do anything for your approval.”
I take a step closer, my voice lowering but still strong. “Open your eyes before it’s too late, Jamie. Your son doesn’t need you to mold him into a miniature version of you; he needs your unwavering love and support. But instead, you’re holding your stupid ego over him. So what if he loves a different sport than his pro golfer dad, or that he wants to become an astronaut one day? So what if his dreams don’t match the ones you had for him? He’s seven years old and already smarter and braver than anyone you’ll ever know, because he has the guts to be his own person.
“Start showing up when it really matters—at his games, when he’s sick, and in his life. And if you don’t, then that’s your loss, not mine. Because our son will always have one parent who has his back no matter what— me .”
Not giving him an opening to respond, I turn away from him and head to my suite where Troy, Rome, and Pearl are signing to each other animatedly about something. My chest tightens and warms as I hang back, getting a glimpse of something . . .
My future.
Even if I’m not ready to admit it yet.