Chapter 5 #2
Pearce was still out for the count when I woke. A soft snore drifted from the couch as I organized coffee. I understood that level of exhaustion after a game.
It wasn't until Lottie headed into the kitchen, asking, “Do we really have to head home today?” that his snoring stopped, and he shifted.
At the movement, I struggled to pull my gaze away.
When he sat up, shirtless and hair mussed, I was so glad I was unsuccessful.
Was I gawking at the guy? Absolutely. Was I grateful that at some point in the night he must have undressed a little?
Heck yes. I figured I had to get my Pearce fix whenever possible.
“Dad.”
My attention snapped to my daughter, the arched eyebrow and her intent stare making it clear she noticed my focus was not where it should be. I swore Lottie seriously was ten going on twenty. She was so much sassier than I remembered being at her age.
“Yes.” I smiled, even knowing my answer wouldn't make her happy. “We're not changing our flights.”
“But I want to hang out with Pearce.”
Me too, kiddo.
Instead of saying what was on my mind, I shrugged. “That's not going to happen.”
“And my tummy hurts.”
I frowned and angled my head, raking my gaze over my girl. She did look a little tired, but she’d had a late night. “Since when?”
She shrugged. “A little while ago.”
Not sure if she was trying to con me since she didn’t want to leave or if she was telling the truth, I asked, “How much does it hurt?”
“A bit.”
“So it’s best we get home sooner, then. Maybe an earlier flight?”
“No,” she answered immediately, shooting me the stink eye.
“Morning.”
My attention switched to a sleepy-looking Pearce.
“Morning,” I responded, focusing hard on making eye contact. “Coffee?”
“As if you need to ask.”
I grinned, more than aware Pearce didn't function well without his morning caffeine fix. I set about organizing his coffee, half listening to Lottie trying to convince Pearce to talk me into us staying.
“… and he said no.” A dramatic huff followed. “It's not like he doesn't talk about you all the time and visit you,” she continued.
I cleared my throat, ignoring the heat rising up my neck. “Lottie, enough.” I narrowed my gaze at her before smoothing my features and handing Pearce his coffee.
“What did I do?” I had a feeling she was rolling her eyes, especially based on Pearce's low chuckle. “Okay, he doesn't talk about you all the time,” she drew out. “Not when Wayne's around.”
She made her feelings for Wayne completely clear from her tone alone. I struggled to hold back my wince, knowing when I got home, I’d have to follow up with the “talk” I’d promised Wayne.
Convenience wasn't worth it.
“Oh yeah, what's wrong with talking about me in front of Wayne?”
I caught Pearce's gaze and stared at him pointedly when he attempted a wide-eyed innocent expression. I wasn't buying his nonchalance.
“Let's wrap up this conversation,” I interrupted with a clap of my hands. “Lottie, you stink. Go shower.”
Lottie twisted her lips before lifting her arm high and taking a whiff of her armpit. “I do not.” She shot me a pointed look that reminded me of her mom. “But I will shower, simply because hygiene is important.”
“You do that, and I'll order breakfast. Pancakes?”
She grinned, her eyes widening in delight. “Yes, please. With strawberries and a ton of maple syrup.”
I chuckled at her enthusiasm. Pancakes were my girl's weakness. Well, that and basketball. “I'll see what I can do.”
“You're the best, Dad.” She spun on her heels, but paused, whipping her attention to Pearce. “No messing with my pancakes.”
I clamped down on my lips to stop laughing as Pearce held up his hands, palms out. “Hey, what did I do?”
“The last time I had pancakes you exchanged the whipped cream with cottage cheese.” Lottie gagged for good measure.
“What, a man can’t make an honest mistake?”
Pearce was so full of shit. The guy was renowned for being a pain-in-the-ass prankster. Sure, they could be super funny, but I’d never tell him that. It was more fun to grumble and act put out.
“Hmm.” Lottie apparently wasn’t buying it as she did the whole “I’ve got my eyes on you” finger point at her eyes, then his. A beat later, she headed to her bedroom, leaving me and Pearce alone.
“I'm up for pancakes too.”
I quirked my brow at him. “You are, huh? Without cottage cheese?”
He smirked, looking ridiculously handsome when that butter-wouldn’t-melt look appeared on his face.
With a roll of my eyes, I challenged, “Haven't you got, you know, another important game coming up? You sure pancakes are wise?”
A cocky grin appeared on his mouth, and he lifted both brows high. “You think I need to worry about the calories?” He indicated his bare chest, his lips twitching.
Unable to stop my traitorous gaze, I gave a far too slow perusal of his chest. Jesus, I was a glutton for punishment.
The reminder of just how young he was and how much of a brilliant future he had slammed into me. Sure, I appreciated every hard ridge and the expanse of skin on display, but comparing it to my own and the handful of grays starting to sprout, it was a rude fucking reminder.
“Yeah, yeah, hotshot,” I settled on. “Pancakes it is.”