Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-seven
Ben
My brothers absolutely were not going to tell me our mother had shown up at Roman’s house.
They were going to keep it a secret from me—for how long, who knew.
They all had shit-ass poker faces, so when I’d video-called them to give them the opportunity to shower me with praise for bringing home the gold, I knew something was up.
Even Adrian was frownier than usual.
I had to tug and yank and cajole. They had me thinking something was wrong with my kid or Mazz, so I couldn’t let it go. When Roman finally let it spill, I was relieved for a split second. That was manageable. I could handle that kind of news, so long as my girls were okay.
But seeing the looks on their faces. Adrian’s dead eyes. The effort Nate was putting into staying present and plastering a big smile on his face. Roman’s exhaustion—that was what got me. It ripped me right out of the euphoria of taking the championship, and I couldn’t get home soon enough.
Except—she was there. I had less than no desire to see our mother, and knowing she was back in Denver, looking to reconnect, made me uneasy. Made me want to pack up and never return.
My flight home landed late at night, and even though Mazzy and Kat were at my house, I stopped by Roman’s first. The second he opened his door, he pulled me into his arms. Or maybe I pulled him into mine. Fuck, I didn’t know. All that mattered was my brother’s embrace, so tight he trembled.
He tugged me into his quiet house, the rest of his family asleep. “Incredible game,” he said.
I waved him off. “You’re not going to distract me. We both know I played incredibly—”
“There was a whole team out there with you,” he reminded me.
“Pffft. Not the point.”
“Yeah.” Heaving a sigh, he turned his head, propping his hands on his hips. “She’s dying.”
“You said.” I shook my head. “How can a ghost die? Explain that to me.”
“I can’t make sense of any of it.” He dropped his hands, flexing his fingers at his sides. “If she needed money, I’d understand it, but we both know she walked away with more than she could spend in a lifetime.”
“I can’t imagine she thought she’d get any sympathy from us.”
“Right.” He looked at me again, and there was something I didn’t like behind his expression. “She looked really bad.”
I pointed at him. “What’s that? You’re not…don’t tell me you’re falling for it. She left us, Roman. We owe her nothing.”
“I’m not falling for anything. If I decide to speak to her, that won’t affect you.”
My head snapped back an inch like he’d physically pushed me. “Decide to speak to her?” I echoed. “What the hell does that even mean? You’re considering it?”
“I’m considering letting her say whatever it is she dragged herself back here to say. That’s it.”
“Why?” The word came out harshly. Sharper than I meant, but not by much. “Why give her even a single second of your time? You’re not her therapist. You’re not her priest. You’re not”—I gestured vaguely—“whatever the male version of a fairy godmother is.”
That got the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Godfather,” he supplied.
“You’d be terrible at that job. Imagine yourself in a tutu and wings.
It doesn’t work.” The humor leeched out of me all over again.
“What happens when you crack the door open for her? I’ll tell you, she’ll wedge her way in, and then what?
She wants Nate. Then Adrian. Then she starts sniffing around Mazz and Kat. Not to mention Shira, Ruby, and Jonah.”
“I’m not cracking the door. I’m shutting it. If I let her have her say, I’m hoping she’ll leave the rest of you alone.”
Now I understood. That was my brother, always sacrificing himself for us. Even when it hurt. He’d rather bleed from a thousand paper cuts than let any of us be cut once.
“You don’t always have to be the one who steps in front of the bullet for everybody,” I said quietly. “I know you think it’s your job, but it isn’t.”
His gaze flicked up, steady and stubborn as ever. “It is if I choose it to be.”
I scoffed. “You’re not a knight. You don’t have to be noble.”
“I’d be doing it for myself too.” His voice was softer now. “I need to hear it. Whatever it is. Then I can finally stop wondering.”
I dragged a hand down my face, exhaling hard through my fingers. “You’re impossible, you know that? Absolutely impossible. You should’ve been born a lamb with all that sacrificing.”
A tiny, tired huff of laughter escaped him. “You done?”
“Not even close.” I stepped forward, clapping his shoulder. “But you’re your own person. If you want to speak to her, do it. I’m not happy about it, but I won’t try to stop you. Even though you’re being really dumb.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, squeezing my arm.
Stepping out into the cool night air, I sucked in a long breath and forced my feet down the familiar path to my own front door, but every step felt heavier.
By the time I reached my porch, all I could think about was Mazzy. Her arms. It’d been two days, but I missed her so badly, I ached for her. I pushed through the door, ready to crawl straight into her, let her chase the ghosts right back out of my head.
“Mazz?” I called, dropping my bags at my feet. “I’m home, baby.”
A creak upstairs broke the quiet, and my feet moved on their own, taking me home to her. By the time I made it to the base of the stairs, she was at the top, a vision in one of my T-shirts, her hair spilling in waves over her shoulders.
“Ben,” she whispered.
I took two steps at a time, scooping her up as soon as she was within reach, and kept going, carrying her into our bedroom, my face buried in her hair.
She smelled good—like me. She’d stayed here while I was gone, used my shampoo. I liked that, but at the same time, I wished she had her things here. Her shampoo in my shower, her clothes in my closet. I wanted her here.
Always.
“Missed you,” I murmured. “So, so much, baby.”
“Me too.” Her arms tightened. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
I dropped her onto the bed and crawled over her.
Pressed up on my hands, I stared down at her.
So beautiful it hurt to look. That hair spread all over my pillow, her glasses slightly crooked, big blue eyes blinking back at me.
Soft, soft lips curved into the slightest smile. Her cheeks, her chin, her neck…
“I love you.”
She reached for my face, cupping my cheeks. “I love you too, Benny.”
Hearing it out loud cracked my chest open. All the fear and anger I’d been carrying—about Roman, about my mom, about everything I couldn’t control—came rushing up to the surface and dissolved right there in her palm.
I lowered my head until our foreheads touched. “You make it easy to come home,” I whispered, my voice thick.
Her thumb brushed under my eye. “Then come home to me,” she murmured. “Right now, that’s all that matters.”
I kissed her slowly at first, tasting the safety on her lips. Every brush, every warm breath between us a reminder she was here, she was real, and I’d come home to her.
The world shrank to the bed, to the heat of her body under mine, to the quiet sound of our breathing tangling in the dark. I kissed down the line of her jaw, her throat, and together, we pulled off her T-shirt so I could kiss her everywhere else.
Sliding down her warm body, I found home again between her legs, drinking my fill of her sweet nectar, and the buzzing in my head calmed. Her plush thighs wrapped around me, her fingers sliding through my hair, I became lost and found.
Right where I wanted to be.
She arched into me, muffling her cries with her hand over her open mouth. I stayed until her cries broke in the middle and my name was the only thing left on her tongue.
Then I moved over her, staring at her face painted in moonlight. She smiled, so I did too as I carefully slid her glasses off and placed them on her nightstand.
“Ben…”
“Mazzy,” I replied, pressing into her. “Home.”
There was nothing but pleasure when I was moving inside her. How could there be? She enveloped me in her heat, wrapped me in her soft limbs, watched me like I was important to her. Vital. When we were together, the harsh edges went dull, everything but this woman fading into the background.
And I clung to her like she was the only solid thing left in the world.
Maybe she was.
I kissed her again, pouring every unsaid word into it. I’m here. I’m safe. Don’t leave. Stay with me. Be mine.
My hands framed her face, and I wanted to say something, explain what she meant to me, but I’d never been great with words. So I just held her and looked at her, hoping she’d see it and understand.
Her legs locked around me, pulling me closer, deeper, and she wrapped her hands around my wrists. I was cuffed in the best way. Trapped with my Mazzy. If she let go, I’d force her to lock me up again.
I wanted to stay inside her all night. All week. But I’d missed her too much, and all that hair spilling over my pillow, the sight of her in my shirt, her warm pussy sliding over me, was too much to fight. I moved faster, taking all I could before it was too late.
She made the softest sound, a breath breaking free, and it did me in completely. Her hands slid up my arms, over my shoulders, her nails dragging down my back.
I buried my face in the curve of her neck, breathing her in like air, each movement between us slow and desperate and sweet.
“Ben,” she whispered.
“I’m here,” I murmured. “I’ve got you.”
When the wave finally hit, it wasn’t heavy and frantic but quietly overwhelming.
I clung to her hard, like if I didn’t, we’d be broken apart.
If she minded me being a needy bastard, she didn’t show it.
She held me just as fiercely with her arms, her legs, her cheek pressed to mine.
I couldn’t remember ever feeling so wanted.
I brushed the hair out of her eyes, my thumb stroking her cheek. “I’m home, baby.”
Her smile was languid. “Right where you’re meant to be.”
I gathered her into my arms and rolled us onto our sides, tucking her against my chest. Outside, the world stayed messy, but in this bed, nothing had ever been more simple.
It was Mazzy and me. The family we made and chose and would never leave.
With her in my arms like this, it was easy to believe.
I swept my lips back and forth over her forehead. “I know you want to talk to me about it, but not tonight.” Maybe not ever. If I could avoid it, that’d be great.
She tipped her head back, stars reflecting in her eyes. “Am I allowed to tell you how proud I am of you?” One brow rose. “Or should I call Murphy and tell him? He played so well—”
I shoved her onto her back, making her squeak. “You’re not proud of him. He sucks. Can barely tie his shoes. He just learned to walk upright, in fact.”
“Oh.” Her pretty lips curved into a smile. “I guess I should just stick to telling you how much I love you, and how proud I was to watch you on TV, knowing you’re mine.”
“Thank you, baby.” I lowered my forehead to hers, my eyes closing. “I play better when you’re watching.”
“Then I’ll always watch.”
She pulled me down on her, and this time, it was my head on her chest. I was far too big to be putting all my weight on her, but she didn’t complain, so I didn't budge.
It’d been a chaotic, worrisome day, but for now, it was easy to set aside.
I’d face it tomorrow.
Or maybe the next day.
Eventually, for sure.
But not tonight.