Keeley #2
Simon came from a broken family like I did, but his parents were completely different from mine.
While my father had gone AWOL, my mother had loved me enough for both of them.
We were never rich—some nights we shared a packet of ramen noodles between us—but I never doubted I was loved.
His parents were totally different animals.
They’d competed over him, showering him with gifts while simultaneously ignoring him.
All they wanted was to hurt the other. He was a pawn.
He’d done some serious soul-searching to be able to acknowledge that his upbringing wasn’t ideal.
I don’t think I’d ever processed just how messed up he was over his childhood.
But I was definitely seeing a different side to Simon.
He was right; the kids were innocent. That was the hardest pill to swallow. Our divorce and this fighting and anger wasn’t good for anyone, especially not a child who’d already suffered so much trauma and loss.
I’d been so adamant that we needed to end. But was I doing the right thing? Was I still in love with him? Did it even matter? Maybe Hannah needed both of us to be able to heal from the loss of her mom. Was denying her that in her best interests?
Simon was right—I had seen poly relationships work. Mine hadn’t, but that was because I moved away after college. They couldn’t come, and I couldn’t stay. Maybe I needed to try again.
For Hannah’s sake.
I wasn’t ready to say yes. I needed more time to figure out if I could settle for this. I didn’t know if I could, but I knew I needed to put Hannah first. That meant hearing him out.
I stayed silent, unable to express what was on my mind.
“I’ll let you go,” he whispered. “I’m…. Thank you for listening. Bye, Keeley.”
“Bye, Simon.”
I sighed, dropped my cell phone onto the coffee table, and slumped down on the sofa.
My shoulders were heavy with the weight he’d placed on them.
I just wanted to be a good mom and give Hannah everything she deserved.
He was right—she deserved the world. I rubbed my tired eyes and swallowed hard.
Urgh. Why did he have to go and do that?
***
The curser on my office computer blinked at me, the page still blank after an hour of sitting there.
I replayed my conversation with Simon over and over.
I’d been up all night, pacing my bedroom as I tried to sort through my complicated feelings.
I didn’t think I loved him. I was sure of it.
Not anymore. But that wasn’t the only important thing to consider.
I had an opportunity here to give Hannah a family that I’d never had—a father and a brother.
I hadn’t planned on dating while she was living at home.
But maybe staying single wasn’t the best for Hannah.
She deserved the best I could give her. I’d enjoyed being married to Simon once.
Maybe we could recapture that. For her. Family was everything. If I could give her that…
The walls of my office were closing in on me. I needed to escape.
I breathed easier when I pulled the door closed behind me as I raced out. I walked the corridors, my low heels clicking on the polished concrete floor. Work. Focus on work. Put all of it aside until I was done. Then I’d be able to think it through logically.
Right. Focus on work. I went over my mental to-do list. I needed to see Miller, but Gauthier, Hux, and Minns were also on my list. Rune had come to see me a few days ago too.
On top of wanting to talk to me about a few personal things, he’d asked to be included in requests for volunteers for the LGBTQIA+ initiatives the team was now spearheading.
I appreciated the support—I know it meant a lot to the guys that so many people were standing with them.
Movement up ahead distracted me. It was Miller and Rune walking out of the weight training room, deep in conversation together.
Miller was shirtless with a towel carelessly draped over his shoulder.
He had a pair of low-slung shorts on with compression leggings underneath, and I could see the beginning of that delicious V leading down to his package.
Even with the bruises from last night’s game marring his skin, my mouth watered as I watched a droplet of sweat run between his pecs and down the ripples of his abs.
I wanted to lick where it disappeared into his navel, then trace my tongue down to where it intersected that V and his cock.
Rune laughed, and Miller grinned at him, his smile carefree and so freaking hot.
I stopped walking, leaned against the wall, and slipped one hand into the pocket of my pinstripe suit pants to stop myself from fanning my flushed face.
My professionalism—heck, even my ability to hide my immediate reaction to him—was nonexistent when it came to that man.
I watched as Miller feigned a shot, his abs clenching and releasing as he twisted. He was perfection personified. Well, except for his mouth. He was so damn cocky, and I already knew exactly why he’d gotten into so much trouble with the Blizzards.
But damn, he was beautiful.
I swallowed hard as I watched him move, all graceful and lionlike.
Rune chuckled again and reached out, stretching as if to catch an imaginary puck, then jumped backward as if he was being slammed into.
Miller curled his hands into fists and pretended to yank something forward with one fist, while with the other he landed multiple pretend blows.
They were laughing about last night’s altercation, while I’d been an absolute wreck when it’d happened. My nerves had been completely frazzled, and my heart was in my throat as I watched the ref drag Miller off the idiot from Vancouver.
I hadn’t been able to breathe until I’d seen Miller’s face and hands.
Number eight didn’t get a shot in, so his face was okay.
But it looked like Miller had hurt his hand.
What felt like hours had passed while I waited for him to stretch his fingers and give the medic the thumbs-up.
Relief had swamped me. Even Hannah had relaxed when I stopped squeezing her so tight.
Rune held up his hand for a high-five, and Miller reached up and clapped their hands together.
I sucked in a breath, that glimpse of Miller’s obliques and lats melting my panties.
I’d just found another place I wanted to lick.
My knees went weak, and I pressed my back against the wall, needing it to hold me up.
My completely inappropriate and one-sided obsession with Miller had started the night of the pre-season barbecue.
His accent—oh my God, his accent—had hooked me.
That slow drawl was like melted chocolate or warmed honey.
He was cheeky and cocky and hadn’t looked even the least bit repentant when I’d chastised him as if I were his teacher.
His grin had grown wider like I was challenging him.
I’d flushed hot and instantly pictured him whispering something dirty in my ear as I was pressed between him and his husband.
It had gotten even worse last night. When I felt eyes on me in the locker room, I’d turned and seen Spencer watching his husband like a steak he wanted to devour.
Miller had gripped my hips, pulled me closer, then maneuvered me around another player.
I’d felt every inch of lean muscle pressed against me for a tiny moment, and damn, that possessive jealousy looked good on Spencer.
His nostrils had flared, his eyes narrowed, and his jaw bulged like he was grinding his teeth together.
Heat had flooded my core, and I’d bitten my lip, barely suppressing my moan before I scampered away, grateful for being interrupted.
I’d sworn I wouldn’t judge them for their sexual exploits, and I wasn’t.
The rumor of their threesome had kickstarted something a whole lot dirtier in me than judgment.
I wanted to join in. I wanted that possessiveness aimed toward me, the attraction so all-consuming that they couldn’t keep their hands off me or each other.
The only thing hotter than one of them was both.
The way Spencer’s stare had lit a fire in my belly was such a turn-on.
That visceral kind of reaction was more powerful than any cheap pick-up line, even one uttered by a man with a perfect Texan drawl.
Spencer’s stare was permission to hand over the reins and let them take me to orgasm heaven without a word even being spoken between us.
That look, filled with sex and illicit promises, was enough.
The night of the barbecue, Carina had dished out the blunt advice that babies didn’t stop you having a sex life.
Her words had run on a loop for weeks. But instead of encouraging me, they served as a reminder of just how long it had been since another person had given me an orgasm—well before Si had dropped his bombshell news on me.
I shook off thoughts of him. I couldn’t think about him—not when Miller was walking toward me.
Miller was gorgeous. I knew I shouldn’t ogle him, but I couldn’t help it.
He looked up, and our gazes locked. My skin heated, a flush running through me until I was sure I was as red as a tomato. His grin turned into a sexy smirk, then he clapped a hand on Rune’s shoulder and made his way over to me. My belly swooped and my breaths quickened.
“Hey, darlin’,” he drawled as he stopped in front of me and rested a hand next to my head. He leaned over me and flashed another sexy smirk. He was only a few inches taller than my own five foot nine, but he made me feel petite, something I didn’t think I’d ever experienced.