Playing Fate (Endgame Series Book 1) (15 page)

She makes me a jumbled mess. I don’t like the way she ties my feelings up and leaves me incapable of dealing. She’s in the kitchen feeding my baby, something her own mother never did, and instead of being happy with what she’s willing to give, I’m pouting because I want more. I crave it. I’m damn near ready to demand it. I don’t see that working so hot for me, but I’m at my limits. My wit’s end.

As the shower massages my overused body, I can’t stop thinking about her sassy mouth. She comes off strong; yet she’s vulnerable. If she had as much faith in her as I do we wouldn’t be at this impasse. She’d just agree to what I want. Thinking of her mouth has my dick hard. It’s become a habit these last days to take matters in my own hands—my right one, to be exact, because it’s dominant. It’s a special form of training—one not included in our workout routine for baseball.

I picture the night I was with her, her blonde locks sprawled against my dark comforter, her eyes hooded as I stared at her from in between her legs, licking her divine pussy. Her hips rising and pressing against my mouth, fucking begging me for release. My hand grips the base of my cock and strokes upwards giving attention to the head.

Stroke.

Tug.

Squeeze.

I hear her moans in my head from that night. My hand speeds up. My balls draw up; I twist the crown and slide my hand back down, applying pressure to the base. On my next upward stroke, I come and watch it swirl and disappear down the drain. That should have taken the edge off, but here I am still sporting a chubby, wanting my girl in my bed.

I walk back to the kitchen after throwing some sweatpants on . . . minus a shirt . . . she likes to play with temptation so much, I’d better join her. She’s just finishing feeding Julie, and there is food scattered everywhere. Glancing at me over her shoulder, “I don’t think she likes carrots.”

“I don’t blame her. Go sit and relax. I’ll bathe her and clean up this mess.”

“I can help.”

“Saylor, for fuck’s sake quit being stubborn.”

“Deacon, for
fuck’s sake
,
quit acting like you’re on your own.” She sighs and starts wiping up the mess. Damn her. I pick Julie up and start her bedtime routine. She must be tuckered out because she doesn’t put up a fight. She allows sleep to claim her. I stare at her for a moment; all the bad in the world can be righted just holding my girl.

I grab a water from the fridge and notice the quiet from the living room. The lights are off, but I notice the lights shining under the basement door. I head down there, ready to clear this shit up. Put all my cards on the table, let it play out, toss her ass in my bed. She’s pulled her hair up, and I want to pull it down. “You couldn’t let it be? You had to clean up the kitchen?”

“Are we really going to fight about a clean kitchen?”

“For starters.” I pin her with a look, and she smirks back.

“You’re spoiling for a war, aren’t you?”

“I’m spoiling for you to clue in. I don’t want you cleaning up after me. You’re eighteen and should be having the time of your life. I’m being selfish enough wanting you, saddling you with the responsibilities I come with, but I don’t want you taking on the duties that aren’t yours.”

“Wow, Deacon. I was under the impression you wanted me to share your life. Be a part of it, all of it, not just the fucking parts you deem acceptable.”

“Whoa. You’re misunderstanding me.”

“Enlighten me.” She crosses her arms. She’s spitting mad.

“I don’t want you to get tired of us. I don’t want to become a burden. I love that little girl and would do anything for her, but I can’t ask the same of you.”

“Isn’t that what you did when you got involved with me? You pushed for this. I took my time because I weighed all the options. It still scares the hell out of me, but you can’t separate the parts of your life you want me involved in. I knew you had Julie. I accepted her. Hell, I think I like her better than you anyways.”

“I pushed for it, and I want it, but I don’t want you to feel you have an obligation.”

She yanks her hair from her ponytail and growls. “You drive me fucking crazy.” Semi to rock hard.

“I like your crazy. It means you care.”

“Yes, you idiot. I care. I don’t know why when you act like this. I know your life isn’t just yours. I had to think long and hard before jumping in to this with you. Just accept it.”

“You make a lot of things long and hard.”

She chuckles, “You sound like Mace.” I smile at her.

“I know there will be learning curves, but I feel like I pull you close, and you push me back.”

“No matter what, Deacon, I was putting you and Julie first. At first, I figured we’d be casual, but after the last couple months, I see that isn’t what you want. I want to help with her. I want to help you. That’s what a relationship means.”

“What changed your mind? You were so against relationships.”

“I was against the pain they bring. Nothing changed my mind, per se. I couldn’t fight it. I gravitate to you. You make my crazy days sane. You make my anger turn into laughter. You wormed your way in here.” Her hand covers her chest. “And your baby is cute. That’s major points.”

“So we’re good.”

“Our definition of that is opposite. I think we’re good, but I’m not moving in. I’m not monopolizing all your time. We’re new. We were barely friends and I want to grow that along with whatever this is,” I point between us. “And no matter what I want you to promise that won’t change.”

I lie. “I promise we’ll always be friends.” There’s no way in hell I’m ever in the friend zone with her. Her eyes narrow at me. “And you don’t have to move in, but I would like sleepovers. Every night.” That’s reasonable.

“Absolutely not. Of course I want to be in your bed but not every night. I’m learning myself, Deacon, and I don’t want to lose all the independence I’ve gained.”

“I can compromise. Five nights a week?”

“I’m not negotiating a pre-set schedule. I can promise it won’t be five nights.” Damn, she tests my patience. I’m wondering if I still have handcuffs here. I’ll trap her ass in this house. “Stop scheming. Are we good?”

“I don’t like your good.”

“You’re crazy.”

“About you.” And that’s fact. I’ve never felt like this, and I’m afraid of letting it fade.

Her smile softens her face. Her eyes sparkle in mischief. “Are we agreeing?”

“No, I’m just giving in. The first of many times I’m sure.” I’m whipped. I’m pussy enough to admit it. “But, don’t tell the guys.”

“Yeah, your street cred and stuff is at risk.” My laughter bubbles out as I bend over holding my stomach.

“Thug life catching up to you?” She follows suit, and we both have tears in our eyes. “You know what happens after a fight?”

“Please tell me make-up sex?”

“Yep.”

“Thank God.” I pick her up, and as I feel her latched to my body, I walk up the stairs and take her to my room. I can’t let my lips touch her, or I’ll fuck her in the hall, and I need her in my bed for what I’m going to do with her. I place her in my bed and start to shut the door, so we don’t wake Julie up when her cries startle us. I rush to her room, and she’s sitting in her crib, big fat tears streaming down her face, her onesie is covered vomit.

Saylor is coming down the hall, and I nod her off. “She’s sick. I’ll clean her and get her settled.”

I pick her up, and she doesn’t feel warm. Maybe it’s just from teething. Taking her to the bathroom, I strip her and wipe her down. Her eyes are closing, and I hurry to get her dressed. I make quick work of her crib sheets one-handed, and she’s fallen asleep. I place her back in the crib, and her eyes open. Projectile vomit all over the place follows. This is going to make for a long night.

Hours pass and I have her cleaned, crib made, and I think it’s safe to say her stomach contents are expelled. She’s softly snoring and seems peaceful. I’m shocked Saylor hasn’t been in to check, but I’m sure she fell asleep. I try to quiet my steps, so I don’t wake her, but I desperately need a shower. I take one step in my room, and my heart sinks.

She’s curled in a ball, washcloth over her head, trashcan by her side . . . sick as hell. She’s taken care of herself while I’ve taken care of Julie. If she would have just come to me, I could have comforted them both. I rush through a shower and run a tepid bath. Picking her tiny frame up, she wakens. “You better, baby?” I push her hair off her face, and she burrows into my chest. “I ran you a bath.” I strip her and lower us both in the warm water. I feel her muscles relax, and I roam the washcloth up and down her body. “I guess carrots aren’t your favorite, either?”

“Thanks.” Her voice is small, and she looks miserable.

“Why didn’t you come get me?” I pull her closer without moving her too much.

“Julie needed you.”

“Saylor, there is enough of me to go around. I promise I can take care of you both.”

She nods and drifts off in my arms. I hold her until I feel she is asleep for the night and gently lift her and dry her body. I hate putting her on the floor, but I need to strip my bed. As soon as everything is clean and in order, I tuck her next to me and glance at the clock. Tomorrow is going to suck. I’ll be functioning on three hours of sleep, and I don’t know if either of them will be well enough for me to leave.

Whatever they had didn’t last long. Emberlee and Avery are sitting on the floor playing with Julie, Saylor begged off wanting them to have their time, so she is studying and doing errands. Tonight that girl will be in my bed, no interruptions because as soon as I can pry Emberlee and Avery off of Julie, the little munchkin is spending the night with my parents, and I’m spending the night deep inside Saylor.

“Has Adriane called?” Lee Lee asks, refusing to look at me.

“No.”

“She was in town the other day. I think she’s meeting me at my aunt’s for Thanksgiving.”

“Emberlee, drop it.”

“She asked me about Julie.” Avery is glaring at her.

“She has no right to do that, and I’d hope as my friend you didn’t give her any information.”

“She’s her mother.” Lee Lee is so defensive over her friend.

“No, she was the incubator. Julie doesn’t have a mother,” I remind her, hoping the edge in my voice warns her.

“Saylor sure is acting like one.” The bitterness in her delivery doesn’t go unnoticed.