Fair Game: A Football Romance (107 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lourdes

I smell bacon. Then I remember Liam stayed with us last night. He must have gone out and bought bacon because I don’t keep it on hand. I open my eyes and reach for my phone on the night table to see what time it is, and when I see that it’s ten o’clock, I sit straight up in bed. It must be ten p.m. It’s too dark to be morning.

I look at the window and see a dark purple comforter stuffed into the top of my curtains, blocking out any sunlight that would help me identify the time of day. I throw off the covers and sit on the edge of the bed for a moment before getting up. I’ve had so many bouts of dizziness lately that I’m starting to learn how to avoid them. I’m still dressed in my clothes from the barbeque, but my shoes have been removed. Liam.

I pad across the room and open the door. The daylight blasts me as soon as it’s open, and I have to squint and shield my eyes while I make my way to the kitchen. Toby is rattling on about something while Liam stands at the stove cooking bacon and eggs. He occasionally responds to Toby as if he knows what the heck he’s chatting about. Even I have no idea what he’s saying. Liam senses me watching them and looks up.

“Hey, sleepy head. I let you sleep in a while. Figured you needed it.”

“Why, because I fell asleep on the job yesterday and let my two-year-old turn my apartment into a peanut butter explosion?” I say, plopping in the chair next to Toby and tousling his hair.

“Well, there is that,” he says, twisting at the waist so he can see me.

I yawn and cover my mouth. “Sorry. I do feel rested.”

“Good, because we have a big day today, don’t we, Toby?”

“Yeah! Big!” Toby yells, throwing his hands above his head.

“Oh yeah? What do you have planned for us today?”

“You want to tell her, buddy?” he says to Toby, who is wiggling in his seat, barely containing his excitement.

“We go,” he says, smiling, and I smile back at him.

“We go where, baby?” I ask.

“Ye-yum’s house.”

I glance at Liam and back to Toby. “You mean we’re going to Liam’s house?” I ask and look back at Liam for confirmation, because this is strange.

“Why are we going to Liam’s house?” I ask Toby while looking at Liam.

Liam answers for him, “I have something to show you both. It’s a surprise.”

I narrow my eyes at him and see for the first time this morning how tired he looks.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” I ask.

“I didn’t sleep at all. I watched some TV and then I worked for a few hours. I’m a night owl—comes with the lifestyle.”

“Do you sleep at home?”

“Not much. I’ve always got this sexy woman on my mind. She never leaves me alone. It’s sort of annoying, ya know?” he says with a smirk.

He lifts the pan and turns to slide perfectly cooked scrambled eggs and bacon onto the plates he has set around the table.

“Thank you. Say thank you, Toby.”

“Sanks.”

“Let’s eat so we can get going,” he says, shoveling in a huge bite of food. Liam is a fast eater. I don’t know if he ever tastes anything he eats.

“Do you even know how good breakfast was?” I ask from the sink, where I’m rinsing off the dishes before we go.

“Bad habit. We have to eat fast on tour because there’s so much traveling.”

“You should slow down and enjoy tasting things now that you’re home,” I say more suggestively than I intended.

He pauses and presses his lips together, “Are you flirting with me, LK?”

I roll my eyes when he uses his new nickname for me. “Maybe.”

“Well, I like it.” He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear and scoops up some bubbles from the sink. I turn away, but not before he blows them off his palm and into my face.

“Hey, what the . . .” I squeal, and Toby comes running into the room.

“Bubbas,” he yells. “Me bubbas.” Toby holds out his hands, and Liam fills them with bubbles that he proceeds to smear on my bare legs.

I can’t stop giggling. His little hands are tickling my thighs. “Stop, Toby, Mommy is all wet.”

Toby runs away laughing, and I turn back to Liam, who is leaning his hip against the counter with parted lips and dark eyes.

“What?”

“Mommy is all wet,” he repeats my comment. He reaches out to smooth his hand down my bare arm, wiping away the droplets of water and the bubbles. Heat and desire ignite in my belly and spread through my body. I can feel myself blushing more and more by the second. I pull my eyes away from his and look down at my hands gripping the side of the sink.

“Don’t look away, Lourdes.”

I look back into his lapis eyes and get lost in their want. Liam slides his arm around my waist and surprises me by pulling me close. We’re pressed against each other with our hips against the counter on one side. He doesn’t hold me, though. As soon as I’m where he wants me, he lets go of my waist.

I have to look up at him now to read what’s going on in his head, but Liam is unreadable. I have no idea what to do next. He’s said we have to wait, and it’s been difficult, but is he caving now? Are we throwing out the no touching, no kissing rule?

He leans down into my neck and ever so slightly thrusts his hips forward until I feel his hard length against my belly. I can feel his breath against my skin when he inhales deeply and exhales with a moan.

I’ve never been so turned on without being touched or kissed in my life, and he makes it worse when he whispers into my ear, “I want to kiss you.”

A little whimper escapes my lips, but I’m not letting this opportunity pass me by again. I want him to know how much this affects me.

Willing my jelly legs to do as I say, I stand on my tiptoes and give him a taste of his own medicine.

“I want you to do more than just kiss me,” I say. I feel him smile against my cheek, and I take a deep breath before stepping back.

He closes his eyes and drops his chin to chest.

“This is ridiculous. My marriage isn’t even real. My resolve is chipping away every single day. There is no way I’ll last until after the baby is born. I’m filing for divorce this afternoon.”

My mouth falls open, and I start to shake my head back and forth. “Liam, no, you can’t do that. Amira isn’t even home yet. You don’t know if she’s in her dad’s will.”

“I don’t give a fuck anymore. I want you. I want you so badly that every fiber of my body leans toward you, like a magnet, pulling me in every time I’m near you. I can’t sleep at night. All I think about is how you’re going to taste, how it’s going to feel to be inside of you. I want to spend all of my time with you. When we’re apart, all I think about is when we will be together again. I don’t care if Amira’s broke and destitute. She’s ruled my life long enough. We have nothing but a legal document binding us together. It’s you I need. It’s you I crave, Lourdes. Only you.”

My heart is pounding in my chest and my knees are wobbly. I feel the same way about him, but I’ve been too scared to say it out loud. Now that he has, relief saturates my soul. I feel like I can take a deep breath for the first time in weeks.

Kids are always great mood busters, and mine is no exception. Toby runs into the room and toward the front door, yelling,
go, go, go
, and the bubble of emotions surrounding us pops. We both snap back to attention and head out to the car.

“I called Dr. Clover this morning. She says she can get you in this afternoon to draw some blood and make sure you’re not more anemic then they originally thought. She thinks your fatigue might be related to that.”

“Oh, you called her yourself? I could have done that. I was going to do that today,” I say.

“I know, but you were sleeping, and I didn’t want you to miss getting in today, so I called early.”

“Thanks. What time do I need to be there?”

“Four. I’ll take you. The office is closer to my house.”

“Ye-yum house,” Toby says from the back seat, and Liam winks at him in the rearview mirror.

“So what’s the surprise at your house? You get a dog or something?”

“No, no dog. Better.”

“Better than a dog? Hmm.” I pucker my lips and tap my finger against them.

“Are you a pet person?” he asks.

“We had a dog growing up, but I have enough to do taking care of Toby. I don’t have time for a pet. Why, are you?”

“I always wanted a dog—a big one—but I travel too much, and Amira sure as hell wouldn’t take care of it when I was gone.”

“She’s a peach.”

“A sour peach.”

“Are you really going to do what you said earlier?” I ask.

“Yes, if you’re referring to filing for divorce. I am. I already called a lawyer that Steve recommended. He’s getting things lined up.”

I turn to face my window and watch the world go by while I absorb what he’s said. I wanted this, but I’ve been stuffing my feelings down so deep for so long that now, it’s almost difficult to allow myself to be hopeful. This is actually happening. I’m getting the guy, the kids and the career. My mom always told me when things seem like they’re too good to be true, they probably are. God, for once, I hope she was wrong.

Chapter Twenty-four

Liam

The expression on Lourdes’s face whens she walked through my front door was killer. She was awestruck. I bought the house when I started making big money. I thought I needed it to be taken seriously, but I would prefer something smaller now with more yard. The pool takes up all of the limited space on the side of the house because it’s built on a hill.

It’s a beautiful warm summer day in paradise. I love LA. After traveling all over the world, this is where I’m most comfortable—in the sun, surrounded by palm trees and people who love my work. It was always my dream to open a dance club of my own here.
Fiction
is the product of years of hustling and living out of my car. I never thought it would end up being secondary to my public appearances. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we are going to make our future work together. I need to tour, but she’ll be in school with two children, and I won’t leave her alone to fend for herself. I haven’t come up with anything yet, but I will. I always do.

Lourdes is sitting next to me in lounger chairs, watching Toby splash in the pool. I found his swim trunks in his dresser, and Lourdes is wearing one of the many bikinis we have for guests who don’t have a suit. Amira loves pool parties. She’s always having sloppy drunk fests when I’m out of town or at work. I know this because we have closed circuit television everywhere on the property. Amira also leaves the mess from the party until someone she’s hired comes to clean it up. Sometimes, I’ll come home and my house, yard and pool are littered with trash, beer cans, and occasionally, a naked straggler who didn’t get the message that the party was over.

I much prefer the family atmosphere. Watching these two relax in a healthy environment with more than one hundred and fifty square feet to turn around in is satisfying.

“This is amazing, Liam. Thank you for today. He’s having a blast.”

“No problem. I do want to talk to you about something though.” She freezes and chances looking away from Toby for a fraction of a second.

“Uh oh, am I going to like this? Because I’m feeling like maybe I won’t.”

She’s fiddling with the side string on the bottom of her suit. She’s a fiddler, I’ve noticed. She unconsciously plays with anything on or near her that has strings, fringe or zippers, especially her necklace. It’s adorable.

“It depends. You should like it, but you’re a little pigheaded and independent, so it could go either way.” She drops the string and straightens her spine.

“
I’m
pigheaded? Seriously, Liam? I think out of the two of us, you win that coin toss,” she says, getting up to check on Toby. He’s wearing a bodysuit with floaters in it, so he’s fine. She’s just using him as an excuse to shift some of the attention from our discussion.

“Okay, so I’m pigheaded too. I’m glad you understand that, because I’m not taking no for an answer on this.”

She’s sitting down on the edge of the pool now with Toby between her ankles, bobbing him up and down. Her thigh muscles flex and relax every time she lifts him out of the water, and her abdomen tightens simultaneously.

Fuck, I shouldn’t be having thoughts like I’m having while watching a mother have fun in my pool with her little boy. I’m not in my right mind lately. I can’t even watch her doing the simplest mundane things without some sort of erotic fantasy running like a movie through my mind.

“Toby, watch and listen. This is what it’s like to be bullied. Don’t let anyone do this to you when you start preschool, okay?” she says, reaching out to tousle his hair. When she bends over—Lord, she’s bent over—I notice the tip of a tattoo peeking out of her suit bottoms. A tramp stamp. I would have never guessed sweet little Lourdes Kennedy would have a tramp stamp. It’s just one more thing to fantasize about when I lie awake tonight, alone in my bed.

I lean forward and look around her to speak to Toby. “Your mommy is kidding, Toby. I would never bully her.” He squeals, not knowing what we’re even talking about. He just enjoys the attention.

“I’m moving you and Toby into the lower level of my house while you’re pregnant. I’m not going back on my word to buy you a house near Berkeley, but I want you safe until you go back to school.”

I watch her shoulders rise and fall. I think she may be deep breathing to keep herself from freaking out. I’ve never seen her angry, and I don’t want her angry now—especially since she’s pregnant—but this is non-negotiable. She needs help, and I’m giving it to her.

She slips off the edge of the pool and disappears under the water—where she can’t hear me or where she can’t yell at me, I’m not sure which. Either way, it’s proof that she is just as pigheaded as I am.

That’s all right. I can wait. I’m a very patient man, and I’m used to dealing with cranky women. I stand and slip my hands into the pockets of my shorts and step to the side of the pool. I watch as her gorgeous body glides underwater to the other side.

Away from me.

Inside my pockets, I cross my fingers and say a prayer that she’s not going to give me much trouble on this matter, because I have movers scheduled to pack them up and move them the day after tomorrow.

When she surfaces she looks fine—more than fine. She’s glowing. Toby is kicking and splashing, trying to reach her. She smiles at him and ignores me. First time for everything, I guess. I kick off my flip-flops, pull my t-shirt over my head and toss it aside. When I look back at her, she’s staring at me while treading water with her mouth hanging open. She realizes she’s been caught and snaps it shut.

Toby has flopped himself halfway across the pool, and she’s about to swim out to him when I dive into the water and come up between them.

“Got him. Come here, you little fish.” I never realized what good buffers kids could be. Toby grabs onto my neck, and I slide him around onto my back and face Lourdes.

“You still like me,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, I still like you. You’re an overbearing, overprotective, dominant, crazy man. But I like you—a lot.”

“Good, because the movers will be at your house the day after tomorrow to pack you up and move you.” Without giving her time to object, I swim away with Toby on my back, screeching and thrashing with joy.