Chapter 9

Damn, it's been a while since I've woken up with a hangover this nasty. My head pounds and my mouth is dry. My stomach feels queasy and my muscles are sore. Coach is going to have my ass if I don't figure out how to fix it before tonight's practice.

My phone dings on the nightstand beside me so I slowly roll myself over to see who the text is from.

"Wheels up? Fuck." I sigh. "I cannot have a hangover on the plane."

My brows furrow at Quinton's last text.

Liquid luck? What for?

"What?" I close my text chat with the guys and find my text with Ada not at all remembering what we've talked about in the last twenty-four hours other than how Elsie has been doing since I left. I slowly read through the last several texts I sent her and spring up from my bed.

"Shit!"

"Ah, fuck!" The pain in my head explodes with my sudden movement. I palm my forehead and will the thumping agony to go the hell away while drowning in an overwhelming sense of guilt.

I call down to room service and order every carb loaded item on the menu begging them to bring me a Sunrise burger with all the drippy egg and the French fries even though burgers aren't on the breakfast menu. Of course, I offered to give a hefty tip to the cook as well as the room attendant. While I wait for my food, I slip into the shower and let the hot water splash over me while trying like hell to come up with something—anything—I can say to Ada this morning to make last night not seem so bad.

Hey Ada, I wasn't really offering you dick pics last night. Dex stole my phone.

Lame.

Hey Ada, just kidding about those photos. I didn't see a thing.

Nope. That's not going to work. I was too specific in my texts.

They weren't as sexy as I originally said. I don't think they're particularly good, actually.

Pfft. Like I could even begin to say something like that to a woman. Especially when it's entirely untrue. Those pictures of her were stunning. So amazing, they're engrained in my head forever and ever and I don't even feel bad about it. New deposits into the spank bank are always welcome.

I'm really sorry about my behavior last night. That wasn't me.

"Ugh, except it WAS me. But it was drunk me and it was completely unprofessional and I wouldn't blame you if you walked away. But please, for Elsie's sake, don't do it until I get home."

Yeah. That might work.

Do I send now or later?

Now or later?

If I send now, she may be too distracted by Elsie to give me the time of day.

But then again, maybe distraction is what she needs.

There's a knock on my door just as I'm stepping out of the bathroom from my shower. Delivery of my room service. I gulp down a bottle of Gatorade and half a bottle of water and then dive into my extra thick burger.

Junk food never tasted so good.

The text can wait. This hangover has got to go.

___

Just as expected, practice today kicked my ass. My body hasn't felt quite right all day thanks to a night of bad decisions. I even thought I pulled a groin muscle when trying to block a shot today but thankfully, a few extra stretches and a muscle massage after practice helped ease the pain.

After my third shower of the day, a long dinner with the team, and another room service delivery because hangovers make me fucking hungry, I'm stuck staring at my phone trying to decide how I'm going to start this conversation with Ada. I avoided my phone all day not wanting to start something I either couldn't finish or didn't want to, but now, I need to check on Elsie and that means I also need to talk about last night.

"Ugh. There's no easy way to do this."

I lean back on my bed with a heavy sigh. I hate not being with her when she's not feeling well.

The fact she's even asking me this question causes a weird feeling to stir in my chest. Does she really think I would lie about something like that? Does she really care what I think?

I press send before finishing my sentence because straight up middle school fear has me by the balls right now. If I say what I'm thinking, it could shift things between us a little and I certainly don't want things to be any more uncomfortable than I've already made them. I would've thought she had those pictures taken for her husband, but the album had Kinsley's logo on the front so they had to have been taken relatively recently. Which means she did it after her husband had passed.

But then why?

For another man?

God, I could really be crossing the line if those pictures had anything to do with another man.

But fuck it. I have to be honest with her.

She deserves that.

It takes a couple minutes for her reply to come through and I sit here holding my breath wondering if I said the wrong thing. Finally, the three little dots appear and she sends another message.

Ada: *Heart Emoji* That's sweet of you to say.

She doesn't reply for quite some time and I really start to worry once again that I've overstepped.

"Shit."

Desirable is right.

I don't know why I'm so goddamn nervous asking her that. It's not like we're together. The asshole part of me doesn't want her to find someone else because that would mean the end of our arrangement. The end of being Elsie's live-in nanny. It'll be bad enough when she finds someone but to have to see him around, touching her? Loving on her? Especially after I've seen her body in those pictures…

Blech.

No thanks.

A man can only take so much before he cracks.

The non-asshole part of me, though…the single guy who now lives with a hot single nanny…

The single guy who knows he's attracted to her…

Yeah.

Sometimes he wonders what it would feel like if something were to happen between them.

And that's not a lie.

For the first time in what feels like an exceedingly long time, life feels relatively happy. Seeing Elsie happy makes me happy. Ada's presence around the house makes me happy. Watching baseball with her late at night makes me happy. Having her around for any kind of conversation makes me happy. Seeing her wildly made-up face that would scare anyone on the street but she encourages it because it makes my kid happy…yeah that makes me happy. Laughing with her makes me happy.

I enjoy coming home from work because I know she'll be there.

I smile when I think about her.

And I haven't smiled thinking about a woman since long before Lori left.

That has to mean something.

Right?

___

The alarm goes off on my phone but I've already been up for the past two and a half hours. After texting with Ada last night, I had a tough time calming down enough to go to sleep. She had invaded my mind for too long. I couldn't get visions of her out of my head.

Laying across the bed of white.

Her soft hair haloed around her.

Her eyes penetrating me with a wanton stare.

She wanted me.

She desired me.

At least, that's how it appeared in the picture. As if I was her photographer and she was calling me to her. Her yearning stare like a siren's song. I'm not too proud to say it. I didn't fall asleep last night until I was buck naked with jizz coating my stomach and chest. My dick finally getting the release it was begging for.

With nothing but restless energy when I woke up, I braved the hotel gym hoping nobody would recognize me. Luckily at five o'clock in the morning, nobody else was up and I had the place to myself to run through an early morning gameday warmup. A warmup I was able to easily accomplish because I'm riding a high that is Ada Lewis.

By all means, I have no reason to be.

Sure, we texted last night.

Yeah, we both said pleasant things, but that's as far as it went.

Nothing specific was spoken between us. I didn't profess my undying devotion to her or anything. But last night, things felt right.

They felt good.

And then I felt good.

My dick felt good.

Gulping down the rest of my electrolytes, I dry some of the sweat from my face and then open my hotel room door so I can hit the showers before we bus to the arena. I turn on the shower head and peel out of my workout clothes. The heat of the water feels amazing on my screaming muscles. I make quick work of washing my face and my hair and then squirt a generous portion of soap onto my washcloth, working it into a lather for my body. When I finish scrubbing myself I stand under the water and close my eyes. The heat and steam renew my body with energy and anticipation for the day ahead.

I think through the day, tonight's game, and then to our plane ride home.

Will she wait up for me tonight?

Will she be smiling when I walk through the door?

"Ada."

My head falls back at the thought of her.

The sound of her voice when she laughs.

Her genuine smile.

Her cute messy bedhead after she first wakes up and comes downstairs for coffee.

Her enthusiasm for sports.

The love she has for her brother.

The love she has for Elsie.

The comfort she seems to have with me.

I don't have to look down to know my dick is hard and aching for release again. I reach for the soap bottle and squeeze some into my palm. With one hand braced against the tiled shower wall, I wrap my soaped fist around my stiff shaft and let out a long, contented sigh as I slowly begin to stroke myself.

"Ada." Her name is a sweet whisper from my lips as I pump my hand up and down my hardened length, squeezing tighter every time I bring my fist down. As if I'm pushing myself into her tight warm body. Connecting myself to her.

"Fuuuck."

I bow my head and squeeze my eyes closed, capturing as much of a mental picture as I can of a stunningly beautiful Ada sprawled out in front of me, her thighs squeezing me tightly, holding me against her as I push inside her again, and again, and again.

"Mother fucker."

I envision Ada's sweet lips covering my cock, her tongue circling the tip and then taking me in all the way until I'm touching the back of her throat.

"God, yes."

My hands in her hair, woven around my fingers as I fuck her mouth.

She makes me feel so good and she doesn't even know it.

This is the release I've needed.

The release I've looked forward to.

The release I knew she would cause me to seek out.

My balls tighten and my chest heaves and then I'm coming with a long satisfied guttural groan.

"Sweet fucking hell, Ada. What are you doing to me?"