Chapter 24
24
Amelia
“Do they do this every year?” I ask Kristen as I watch Gage and his brothers in his living room immersed in what might be the world’s longest tailgate party. A week ago, I knew nothing about football. Now, I’m more across the NFL than I really think is necessary for someone who still thinks RedZone sounds like a subscription service for serial killers.
“Every year,” Kristen confirms. “We call it the Draftpocalypse.”
“Yep,” Olivia says. “Welcome to seventy-two hours of testosterone, trash talk, and draft picks.” She grins and takes a swig of her beer. “I love it.”
“Liv!” Callan calls out. “Get your ass in here, woman. We’ve got a rep to protect here.”
“I’m gathering snacks,” she calls back. “Surely, you can survive without me for five minutes.”
“Hurry, Liv, or he’ll choose another third-string tight end,” Gage calls out, and while I can’t see his face, I feel the smirk radiating from him.
“Fuck off,” Callan says.
“Okay,” I say to Kristen and Maddie after Olivia gathers snacks and leaves us. “Have I got this right that these grown men are all pretending that they’re NFL GMs building fantasy teams? They’re watching this draft, scouting picks, and acting like they’ll be making million-dollar calls at some point? And each of them runs his own fantasy team? And Callan and Olivia have been co-managing theirs together for years?”
Maddie grins and nods. “Yes, to all of that, and yeah, Liv’s his co-GM. This weekend, she’s his Draft Day Ride or Die. I’m pretty sure she’s the only reason these guys ever let a woman into their war room.”
“Yeah, I’d agree with that,” Kristen says. “She might be gathering snacks for them because they’d just grab beer if they were in charge, but she’s the MVP. She knows her shit.”
“Right.” I process. “So, basically this is Dungeons & Dragons, but make it sports-bro edition with touchdowns and tight-ends instead of sword fights and dragons.”
Maddie laughs. “You’ve never been into football?”
“No. One of my brothers is, but not like this.” I gesture toward the living room. “ This seems like a lot.”
Maddie keeps smiling. “The Black brothers are insane about it. Like, they prep for Fantasy Draft weekend later in the year the way most people prep for a wedding. There are spreadsheets. Mock drafts. Group texts that start at 6 a.m. from March on. They take it very seriously.”
Olivia joins us again, listening in on our conversation. “No lies. Gage has Lucy put his pick times in his calendar. And he color-codes his spreadsheet.”
My wide eyes are my only response. I can’t imagine Gage color-coding anything.
Olivia laughs. “Green for top targets, yellow is backup options, orange for risky picks, red for the ‘Do Not Draft List’, blue for sleeper steals, and purple for Hayden’s favorites.”
I frown. “Why is he tracking Hayden’s favorites?”
“Strategic warfare.” Olivia grins. “He wants to screw Hayden over.”
“Hayden’s the best,” Kristen says. “He’s won three out of the last five seasons. Gage would rather lose than let Hayden win.”
“Wow.” I’m suddenly seeing my man in a whole new way.
“Yep,” Olivia agrees. “Gage doesn’t just watch football. He prays at the altar of it.”
“Let’s be real,” Kristen says. “All the Black men treat it like their religion.”
“Okay,” Maddie says. “Enough about football. I want to plan a shopping trip. I need a hospital robe. Something special that you all help me choose.”
“I feel like this should just be you girls,” I say, sensing this is a special occasion for Madeline. “You only met me two weeks ago.”
“No.” Maddie smiles at me. “We met you at my wedding. And well, we all knew who you were before that.”
My brows pull together. “Huh?”
Maddie’s eyes are sparkling like she’s been holding onto a secret. “I saw the way Gage watched you at Luna’s birthday party last year. You were already on your way to being one of us back then.”
“I second that,” Olivia says.
I’m staring at them in shock when Gage walks into the kitchen, his hand gliding casually across my hips as he passes. He doesn’t stop, just keeps on walking to the fridge, but that one beat of contact, warm and easy, is all kinds of domestic.
He grabs beers from the fridge, popping one open and tucking the others under his arm. On his way back through the kitchen, he catches my eye. Doesn’t say a word. Just holds my gaze long enough to make my stomach flip before disappearing into the living room.
The girls catch all of it, shoot me matching knowing looks, and dive straight back into planning our shopping date for next month, like they didn’t just leave me here, rethinking every moment I’ve had with Gage since that party.
I join in, adding the shopping trip to my calendar, along with a book club night with them two weeks from now.
These women have let me in without question. No proving myself. No careful dance. Just open smiles and soft welcomes. Which isn’t something I’ve ever experienced. Not even in school. I’ve never fit anywhere easily like this, and god , I love it.
Over the course of the last two weeks since I saw them at Gage’s parents’ home, they’ve added me to the Black brothers’ group chat. When I gave Olivia my number, I thought she was adding me to the girls’ text thread. I got the surprise of my life when I started receiving texts from everyone. And I honestly wondered what Gage would make of it. Whether he’d think it too soon in our relationship for this level of family connection. He gave zero fucks about it. In fact, when I mentioned removing myself, he emphatically told me not to. It seems my man enjoys the fact I’m bonding with his family.
Being with Gage is easy. The hardest part is juggling our daughters and trying to find alone time. Our free nights don’t always align, so Gage is spending a lot of nights tucking Luna into bed, leaving her with his nanny, and coming over for a few hours with me. Except, of course, if I’ve got Sarah, because I still want to keep our relationship away from the girls. Gage appears ready to be done with that but hasn’t bossed me into his way of thinking yet.
He also hasn’t said a word about James and his ongoing bullshit, though I see it in his eyes and the tightness in his jaw that he has feelings, and not good ones. I haven’t told my ex I’m dating Gage, but he’s aware. Of course he is. Social media is practically treating Gage’s love life like breaking news.
Since the day I made it clear I was done with his manipulation, James has shifted to other ways of fucking with me. He’ll “accidentally” forget which nights he has Sarah, drop last-minute schedule changes on me, and conveniently “lose” important forms for school, forcing me to chase him for signatures. He’s started popping up at Sarah’s activities, too, all smiles and Dad of the Year energy, but I’m no fool. I see what he’s doing. And so does Gage. My only hope is that Gage doesn’t lose his shit and get into it with him on my behalf.
The same goes for work. He’s ready to go scorched earth for me there, too. Whenever Sofia’s name comes up, or I’m mentioned in a bad light on social media, he’s visibly unimpressed. Still, he’s kept his distance and let me handle my own business, which is something I appreciate more than I’ve said out loud.
Work is steady, even if nothing looks like I thought it would five weeks ago. My lawyer is handling the copyright infringement claim Sofia filed, compiling all the supporting evidence to shut this down with facts. I’m trying not to let it consume me, especially since the bad press has mostly eased thanks to Marin’s PR skills. Well, that or my association with Gage and all the social media girlies who seem to adore him. I’ll take either.
I’ve wrapped up work on the short indie film and have just started work scoring a small-but-promising documentary series. It’s not my first preference, but the director is collaborative and it’s keeping me focused, which is exactly what I need while the rest of my career hangs in the air.
For now, I’m just trying to keep all the threads of my life from tangling. Family, work, PR updates, childcare coordination, dating. It’s a lot. Nights like tonight, surrounded by Gage’s family and wrapped in the warmth of the girls’ easy friendship are exactly what I need sprinkled in.
Later, when the penthouse is quiet, and it’s just me and Gage, we’re in his bathroom brushing our teeth, wrapped in towels after our shower. There’s an easy ritual to this now. The casual back and forth about what our plans are for tomorrow, the handoff of the toothpaste, the way he wipes the steam off the mirror with his forearm, water still dripping from his hair, his towel riding low on his hips. It’s nothing. It’s everything. It’s the intimate kind of ordinary I cherish. The kind that sneaks up on you when you’re not paying attention and makes your chest ache in the best possible way. The kind I’ve never had.
I move into him when we’re done, resting my hand on his hip. “So, it seems I got lucky that I started dating you in March rather than in, say, July.”
He looks down at me, already amused, fully aware I’m taking this somewhere. Gently tucking a loose wisp of hair behind my ear, he says, “How do you figure that?”
“I’ve calculated there are probably only two months out of every year when you’re not obsessing over football the way a teen girl goes full feral over Taylor Swift. February and March.”
“Full feral.” He says that like he can’t believe a smart woman like me uttered those words together. Then he dips his face and steals a rough kiss before bringing his heated eyes back to mine. “The only thing I’m going full feral over is you.” His hand slides over my ass, and the way he’s gripping me says he’s thinking about doing that right now.
“I think I may need that in writing if what I’ve learned about you tonight is true.”
He scoops me into his arms and it’s very clear he’s already moved on from this conversation. I can’t be sure, but I think I need to use the words “full feral” with him more often. I think they encourage his filthy ways.
After he throws me on the bed, and yes , it was a throw, he strips the towels from us, moves on top of me, and settles between my thighs. His hands find my body. His mouth finds mine. And there’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses me. It’s hungry and dark. A kiss meant to say you asked for feral, now hold on .
He does his absolute best to ruin me with his lips and then tears his mouth from mine like it physically pains him to stop, breath ragged, eyes wrecked with need.
I’m breathless. Lips swollen. Heart racing like he’s already fucked me instead of just kissing me.
“I’m serious,” I say, trying to catch my thoughts while watching him move down my body. “Just how much of your time will I be losing to football?”
He doesn’t answer me because he’s too busy getting his hands and mouth on my breasts in a very impolite way. He drives me wild with how he dedicates himself to my nipples, licking and sucking like this is the only thing he ever wants to do again. When he’s finally had his fill there, his eyes meet mine, blazing with the kind of lust that sends a girl right to the edge. “You really think football’s going to come before you?” He grazes his teeth over my nipple the way he knows I really like. “You have no idea if you think that, Amelia.”
Holy gravelly voices.
I grip his biceps and arch into him without even meaning to.
That voice? Saying my name like that?
I won’t survive this night if he keeps talking to me like that.
“You want feral?” he demands, his mouth hot against my skin. “You want me ruined for anything but you?” His voice is a growl now, his hips grinding slow and hard against me. “I’ll fucking show you feral.”
He flips me over. Really, it’s more of a toss. Like he’s in a fucking hurry and doesn’t have time to wait for me to do it myself. Hands to my hips, he hauls me up until I’m on my knees, breath caught in my throat. “I’d cancel the whole fucking world to be with you.” He palms my ass, possessive and rough. “To bury myself in you.”
Then his mouth is right against my ear. “Tell me exactly how you want it. You want me to hold back?” His fingers slip between my thighs, teasing, denying. “Or do you want me to lose my goddamn mind and fuck you so deep you forget what gentle feels like?”
I’m a panting mess, so damn wet, losing my mind with the desperate need for him to just get inside me already.
“Don’t go shy on me, Princess. You said feral. So tell me what you want. Use that pretty mouth and tell me how to break you.”
I fist the sheets. “I want you to fuck me like you can’t control yourself. Like you’ll go insane if you don’t fill my pussy all up with your cum.”
His groan is guttural.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Amelia.”
Then he snaps.
He grips my hips and lines himself up, hard and hot, and in one rough thrust, he drives in.
I cry out, the sound sending him further over the edge.
“You want the truth?” he grits, his pace turning indecent, his need crossing all the way into obsessed territory. “I’d spend every goddamn night making a mess out of you if you’d let me.” His grip is bruising. “Make you drip down my fucking chin.”
My orgasm slams into me. Hard, sudden, and all-consuming. It tears a sound from me that sounds half scream, half curse. A noise I didn’t even know I was capable of. And then I’m gone. Zoning the fuck out, lost in the pleasure, and only barely aware that Gage is still fucking me and chasing his own release.
By the time he comes, he’s made a mess out of both of us. Skin, breath, hearts. Nothing untouched. He stays inside me for a long moment, arm tight around me like he’s not ready to let go.
Then, finally, he drops a kiss to my shoulder and pulls out. He disappears into the bathroom and comes back with a warm washcloth to clean me up. Quiet, focused, like I’m something he wants to take care of.
Gage fucks like a savage but handles me like I’m precious gold.
When he brings me in close to go to sleep, I look up and grasp his face, pulling him down for a kiss. It’s unhurried. Soft. No feral in sight.
I find his eyes when I let him go. “I really liked seeing you with your brothers today. And even though I said all that stuff about football, I like that you guys have that. It’s special.”
He watches me silently and I think what I said touched him. His voice is gruff with emotion when he says, “It’s never mattered what shit we’re going through, we’ve always been there for each other.”
Gage has told me about his childhood. About how his parents’ marriage was loveless for a long time, about how his father cheated on his mother, about how that affected the boys. But also, about their journey since then to a place where they love each other. The brothers have always been close. But now, they’re growing close with their parents too. Old wounds are being healed, and I can see just what that means to Gage.
I snuggle into his arms, resting my head on his chest. We’re silent for a long beat, and then I casually say, “I want you to install cameras in my bedroom.”
Gage goes still. And then his arm tightens around me, and he growls, “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Though he can’t see it, I smile.
Then, I glance up at him, finding his dark eyes already focused intently on me. “You know, so you can watch me anytime you want.”
“I fucking caught that,” he says, and I’m 99.999% sure he wants to put me over his knee right now and spank the brat out of me.
I smile sweetly and say very innocently, “I just wanted to make sure.”
I’ve got my head back on his chest and am slowly drifting off to sleep when he kisses the top of my head and mutters, “You’ll be the fucking death of me.”