39. Ryan
THIRTY-NINE
Ryan
The guys are still a bit pissed. Or should I say Gunner. He gave me the silent treatment for the rest of practice despite the multiple apologies. Heath couldn’t give two fucks, although he did keep mentioning my brother, and every time he looked at me, it was like he had stars in his eyes.
He probably has a boner for the guy, and I guess I get it. He’s a good player and blah, blah, blah. I don’t know. I’m not really impressed.
And to make it worse? More awkward? Poor timing? All of the above?
We play his team on Sunday, and I bet you anything they’re worried it’s going to turn into some kind of sibling rivalry. In truth, it doesn’t bother me at all. I’ve been playing against him for years, and he’s never given me a single hint he knows we’re related.
I don’t talk to him. He has no reason to talk to me. We’re all good.
And my piece-of-shit sperm donor can’t say shit to me. I’d like to keep it that way too .
Unless dear old Dad told Anders about Dean and me, I don’t see how he’d know about us anyway. Not that it would really make a fuck of a difference to him. I’d bet any amount of money the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
I sure as fuck don’t need him or any of his family members poking around in my life. No, thanks.
My life is finally good. I have everything and everyone I want right here.
A thought that has me grinning like the village idiot—or Isaac Hughes—as I push open the door to my apartment and head inside. There’s country music playing in the kitchen. It’s low so I can’t make out exactly what it is, but it sounds like old-school country, which has to mean Oliver is in control of the music selection.
I’m sure June is happy about that.
But as I round the corner to the kitchen the smile on my face wobbles, and I think my eye twitches just a bit.
There are ripped-up hunks of lettuce strewn haphazardly across my counter and littering the floor around Oliver. He has a bunch of it and is currently shredding it with his bare hands and tossing it toward a bowl on the counter. I say toward because hardly any of it is actually getting in there.
I’m surprised he’s not wearing it.
Never mind. I spoke too soon. There’s a piece on his shoulder and another on top of his head.
It’s not that I’m a neat freak per se, but also I kinda am. But it’s okay. Deep breath. It’s just some lettuce. Some lettuce that looks like it kicked Oliver’s ass and won. And is now all over my kitchen.
Before I can swoop in and pick it up, Oliver turns around, a wide grin on his face. “Hey, Daddy! Mom said I could help with dinner. I’m making salad but it smells gross.” He scrunches his nose, looking toward June. “I don’t hab to eat fis, do I?”
June turns around, looking from me, to Oliver, to the lettuce ... everywhere. She doesn’t seem at all surprised, and it makes me wonder how many times this happened in her kitchen, how many dinners they’ve made together I missed. “I’m not sure there’s much left to eat, Oli. You spread it across the kitchen really nicely. You’re even wearing a piece as a hat.”
“It’s not a hat, silly.” He jumps down from the step stool, tossing the leaf from the top of his head into the mostly empty bowl. “Daddy can help you. Can I play in the living room now? I brought down all my dinosaurs.”
June raises a brow, taking me in, her eyes sliding up and down my body, a mischievous smile across her face. “I don’t know. Your dad looks awfully tired. I’m not sure if he’ll want to help me with dinner.”
“Please, Dad.” He grabs my hand, tugging me to his place at the counter. “The salad is so boring.”
I know I should be keeping a straight face, but I can’t help but laugh. And pluck the greenery from his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I think I can handle it. But you owe me.”
He jumps up, giving me a midair high five. “I owe you big times.”
And just like that he’s gone. Not a goodbye, thank you, nothing. I guess the dinosaurs are more important than us. I get it, but it stings.
I can’t complain too much, though, because now I have June to myself, and while I told her I’d try to contain some of the PDA around Oliver, my patience is wearing thin. I’ve been itching to get my hands on her all day. Even more than I want to pick up all the salad Oliver helpfully threw all over the place.
Spending the weekend practically locked away with her wasn’t nearly enough.
Hell, a lifetime won’t be enough with this woman.
So I don’t waste another second, sliding up behind her and gripping the soft curve of her hips. I want to force her to face me and devour her mouth like the animal I am, but she has a knife in her hand, and I refuse to risk it accidentally cutting either one of us.
But I can still bury my nose in her hair, letting the smell of strawberries wash over me like the simp I am. Honestly, there’s no denying it at this point. I trail my lips along the length of her neck, the shell of her ear. “How did your day go?”
She lets out a soft moan, her chopping paused as she tilts her head to give me better access. “Oh, you know, pretty uneventful.” This time she sighs. “Except for when I quit the law firm.”
June sets the knife in the cutting board and turns, looping her arms around my neck. She has a huge smile on her face, and I know this was a big milestone for her. She loves her mom and felt indebted to her in a way, but that wasn’t the place for her. That wasn’t what she loved.
If she wanted to stay at the firm, I’d have supported her—of course I would have—but it would have eventually burned her out.
This decision was huge for her. She’s learning to trust herself and take risks, and I couldn’t be more proud. Her yoga studio is going to be great, and she’s only going to have herself to thank. Yeah, I’m helping as much as I can right now, but it’s her passion that’s going to take it to the next level. I see it. The guys see it.
I lean down, pressing my lips to hers in a chaste kiss. I pull her close. I take my time. I let myself get lost in her for a moment before I pull back, resting my forehead to hers. “Congratulations, Princess. When did this happen?”
“Shortly after we texted. My mom called me into her office to give me the custody agreement she’d been working on. I wasn’t planning on doing it today, and then our conversation spiraled into a lecture about who I can date.”
I huff a quick laugh, brushing my lips across hers one more time. “I take it she doesn’t approve of me.”
“Basically referred to your entire profession as being a collection of manwhores.”
“Ouch.” Although in general she’s not wrong. It’s just not me. Not anymore. Not since I saw June.
It’s her turn to pull away a bit more, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Just wait until the barbecue. It’s going to be so awkward now. She’s going to make sure everyone knows her opinion whether we like it or not.”
I run a hand through her hair, letting the wavy strands fall from my fingers. “I hope she doesn’t expect me to keep my distance from you while we’re there. She knows we’re together, right?”
“Are we together together?” This time she takes a full step back, her brows drawing together as she looks at me expectantly.
Is she serious right now?
With a grunt, I grab her hands, pulling her back to me. “Damn right we are.” I shake my head before meeting her gaze. “If you need to put a label on us, then do it. If you need me to propose, I will. I don’t care what I have to call you so long as you’re mine.”
Pink crawls up her neck, and she pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, biting down on the pillowy flesh. “I think girlfriend will be just fine. Although I’m pretty sure my dad is already planning our wedding.”
“You sure? You don’t want me to get down on one knee in the middle of this lettuce pile and propose?”
She lets out a small laugh but nods. “I’m sure. I just ... you know, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t reading too much into anything.”
I have half a mind to follow through and drop down with the discarded salad to prove exactly how serious I am, but she’d definitely say no. And then I’d look like a jackass. Plus, I’m man enough to admit it would be a terrible idea. Not because June isn’t the one, but because it’s way too soon. I’m pretty sure we need to spend at least a few weeks together before I start ring shopping.
She and Oliver are in my home, and that’s good enough. For now.
So I reluctantly let her finish cutting the peppers while I clean up the mess on the floor and counters, making sure to throw all the ripped-up lettuce in the trash.
“Oh, before I forget to mention it.” June glances over at me. “My apartment manager called me today, and they think my place should be ready for Oliver and me to move back in by the end of the week. He thinks next Wednesday at the latest.”
Fuck.
Is it wrong I was hoping her apartment would stay flooded forever? That maybe it was damaged beyond repair and she’d have no choice but to stay here with me ?
Maybe I could move up the timeline on the ring shopping and sway her with the promise of a long engagement. Sure, the long engagement part is one thing I won’t follow through on, but she doesn’t have to know that. Once she’s wearing my ring, all bets would be off.
Now that I’ve had them here, I don’t want them to leave. This arrangement needs to stay permanent, and I’m not afraid to fight dirty to get my way.
“Obviously I’ll have to replace all my furniture, but I should be getting the check from my rental insurance soon.”
Yeah, furniture. How can I make that process as difficult as possible? Obviously I can’t destroy all the furniture in Nashville, right?
Right?