As the weight of my release washes over me, I lean against the wall, gasping for air. If only she knew what just happened in here. I should be ashamed, but I’m not. I’ll never be ashamed of wanting her, seeing her in my dreams, wishing there was more to our story.
I rewash my body and let the hot water soak into my bones for a few more minutes, but I know I don’t have much time. Turning off the water, I get out of the shower feeling a little lighter than before, the weight of the day no longer heavy on my shoulders. Funny what a good hand job in the shower can do for you.
I throw on my clothes, a team polo shirt and a pair of nice jeans. I run a comb through my hair and use my deodorant. Once I’ve completed the basics, I toss all my stuff into my shaving kit and exit the room. I throw my bag into my luggage and scan the room, making sure I have everything packed up, when the sweetest sound filters into the sleeping area.
“You are the most handsome little man I’ve ever met,” Lena coos, instantly making me smile.
I’m moving toward the living space as I reply, “Well, he does look just like his dad.”
They’re lying on the floor, a blanket spread out beneath them. Oliver is lying in front of where she crouches on her knees, his wide eyes and a grin all for her. She looks my way, a happy little smile on her beautiful face. “There’s a little resemblance,” she teases before turning her attention back to my son. She leans down and blows a raspberry kiss on his bare belly, the result an excited squeal and waving of his arms and legs.
“Yep, he’s definitely my son. I always get excited when a pretty girl blows on my belly too.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. My heart drops to my feet as dread sweeps through me. I didn’t exactly mean it the way it came out, but I already know how she’s taking it. I made myself sound like a player, a manwhore who lets any and all women give him a blowjob, but the truth is, I was only thinking of one woman when I made that statement.
The one who’s now looking my way.
She clears her throat. “Yes, well, I do recall how excited you’d get when I got anywhere near your belly.”
Her response surprises me. She’s not mad or reminded of my past, even though there isn’t much of a past there. Have I been a saint? Hell no, but I haven’t been careless either. Well, not besides Renee. Truth be told, I tried dating. Case in point: Lindsay. But every time I tried, I failed, and I’m pretty sure I know why.
She’s sitting in front of me.
Now it’s my turn to clear my throat. “Yeah, well, can you blame a guy? You’ve always been the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever known.”
Her eyes dilate, and she looks away to cover her blush. Lena smiles down at Oliver and absently starts to pick up her mess. Since he seems content, she leaves him there on the floor and throws the diaper in the trashcan before checking to make sure all of his stuff is repacked in the diaper bag. I just stand there and watch, taking in her movement and committing them to memory.
I recall how easily she fits in with everything. My job. My team. My life. I want her to stay, knew it before I even sent that text. Now that she’s here, I’m just not sure how I’m going to be able to let her go again. I’ve never been able to talk to anyone as easily as I can Lena. Hell, some of the girls I’ve dated, I was barely even able to talk to at all.
Like Lindsay.
Knowing I need to have the conversation, I return to my bed to finish packing. A few seconds later, she joins me, double-checking the dresser drawers we used during our short stay and even checking the closet. Her bag is packed, closed and ready to go by the door. Mine is ready to join hers.
As I’m zipping it, I glance over to where she busies herself checking the bathroom. I already know there’s nothing left in there. “Can I talk to you about something?” I ask the moment she steps out.
Lena is directly in front of me, but not close enough to touch. Fuck, do I really want to touch her.
“Tyson mentioned something to me after the race. He said you were approached by a woman.”
I watch as something flashes across her features, but she quickly schools it. Lena gives me a tight smile and shrugs. “Just a fan of yours, I think.”
She tries to walk away, but I reach out my hand and stop her. The skin on skin contact is like a jolt of lightning. When her eyes meet mine again, I continue, “Her name is Lindsay Monahan. We dated for about three weeks.”
I can feel her go rigid beneath my touch. “You don’t have to tell me this,” she says quickly, pulling against my hand. I let her go, but follow as she hightails it to the kitchenette area to finish packing up Oliver’s formula and water.
“I think I do,” I say as I reach her side. “I’m not sure what she said to you, but I’m certain it probably wasn’t nice.” Her guarded eyes meet mine once again, and I hate that look on her face. Like she’s protecting herself. From me. From the pain I might inflict.
I step forward, into her personal space. Her scent wraps around me, beckoning me like a siren’s call. My hand sweeps through her loose hair, the softness of those locks sliding around my fingers. “I met her at the track a few times before I asked her to have dinner with me. It
