34. Ronan

Ronan

When I roll over the next morning to an empty pillow beside me, I stare at it in annoyance, wishing there was a head of silky brunette hair spread across it.

What's a guy gotta do to spend the night with his girlfriend, for fuck's sake?

I get up and grab my phone to text Willow a photo of me pouting next to an empty pillow in hopes of making her smile, only to see a text from my mom that makes my heart stop.

MOM: Hi honey, hope you're doing okay, you didn't call last night. Peyton's fine, she was a bit disappointed but went to bed no problem. Give us a call when you can.

"Shit," I curse, raking my hand through my hair as I grapple with waves of guilt and anger at myself. In the four years I've been doing these calls, I've never missed a single one. And when I do, it's because I'm too busy sneaking my girlfriend into my hotel room for some secret sex.

Fucking hell.

With the time change, it's late enough on the West Coast that I know Peyton should be up by now, but when I call my mom's phone, there's no answer. Switching over to my texts, I shoot her back an answer.

RONAN: I'm sorry. Got caught up with something last night. Is Peyton okay this morning? Are you guys out?

I stare at my phone, willing it to ring, but instead, a reply pops up.

MOM: She's fine honey, promise. She's completely forgotten about it by now. We're just at a morning playgroup and she's having a great time.

A picture follows of Peyton at the top of a slide, grinning. It brings me some relief to see my girl happy. Thinking about it rationally, I know I'm probably beating myself up more than I need to about missing one call. But I've always said Peyton comes first in my life, and last night that wasn't true. I put my selfish needs and pleasures above my duties as her father. And as I stare at the photo on my phone screen, I'm forced to remember why I've never tried to have a relationship before.

Because balancing my role as a single dad and that of a boyfriend is going to be really fucking hard. And the only reason I'm willing to try is because Willow is the only woman worth trying for.

After typing out a quick reply to Mom with a promise to text when we land back in Vancouver, I get in the shower to start readying to leave. Of course, being under the hot water brings back memories of last night, making me hard just remembering Willow in my arms, our bodies slippery and warm. She feels like heaven when her pussy is hugging my dick. My hand reaches down and wraps around my semi, but it's a poor substitute for her body. I give it a tug and close my eyes, imagining it's her hand and not mine. Pretending I can feel her lips on mine, that I can smell her sweet citrus scent, and hear her soft moans of pleasure.

Before long, I'm painting the walls of the shower with my orgasm, hanging my head low as the water beats down on me.

I thought my heart was owned by one little girl, and now, suddenly, it's split in two. And Willow holds the other half in her hands.

A couple of hours later, I'm on the plane, seated next to a window, waiting for Willow to get on and sit next to me. I haven't seen her yet this morning, what with getting caught up in a team meeting after breakfast to review the schedule for the coming week.

But instead of my girlfriend, I end up with my teammate. Monty plunks down in the seat next to me and looks at me with a grin.

"Kai was telling me he went to take a leak last night and heard some moaning from his neighbour." His eyebrows do some ridiculous dance as I frown at him, determined not to say a word. "Weren't you his next-door neighbour?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Willow finally board the plane, which spurs me into action. Fixing Monty with a glare that hopefully conveys my message of shut the fuck up, I hiss under my breath, "I don't know what you're getting at or what Kai heard, but if there was any noise, I'd hope there's some sort of bro code on this team and everyone would know to keep their mouths shut."

A manicured hand lands on Monty's shoulder, and we both turn to look up at the most gorgeous woman in existence.

"Hello, boys. Monty, you don't mind if I steal this seat from you, do you?" She gives him a winning smile, one I'm sure could melt icebergs if she tried.

"Of course." Monty hops up and gestures with his arm toward the seat. "All yours." As she sits down, he catches my eye, mimes a zipper across his mouth, and gives me a wink.

Internally, I sigh in relief. I hoped I could trust the guys to be cool with me and Willow, even in the face of an illegal hotel hookup, and it's good to know that trust isn't misplaced.

"Hey, you," Willow murmurs, leaning in to brush her lips against my cheek.

Grabbing her chin, I turn her head, deciding to say hell with it and really put everyone's acceptance of our relationship to the test. I kiss her properly. Long and deep. When we part, her eyes are glazed, her lips glossy and plump.

"Hey, yourself."

"What was that for?" she asks with a quirk of her lips. I just shrug, leaning my head back against the seat, looking at her.

"Do I need a reason to kiss my girl?"

Her head moves from side to side. "No, but…"

I lean in and peck her lips again, briefly this time. "There is no but, Cherry. I wanted to kiss you hello. Weren't you saying last night since word has spread that we're together, we don't need to hide?"

Her soft smile is full of affection. "Fair enough." She lets me pick up her hand and place it on my leg, our fingers twisted together. Lowering her voice, she tucks in close to me to whisper, "Did I really hear Monty saying Kai heard us?"

She sounds worried, so I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's fine, Cherry. If anyone wanted to give us shit, it would've happened by now," I say under my breath. "Besides, even if they had caught us, it was worth it to finally feel you come apart around me again."

Her inhale is audible, and there's no missing the way her legs squeeze together. It makes me grin with a primal sort of pride. She's my woman, and I can turn her on with just a few words. Fuck. Yeah.

The rest of the flight is uneventful. A few of the guys come up to chat, and no one says a word about Willow and I holding hands. It's as if we've always been together. It's normal, totally accepted. And I hope that's enough to ease her worries about our relationship impacting the team in any way.

At the airport, we walk together to the small parking lot that's reserved for the private jets. I escort Willow to her car, helping her load her bags in the back before gathering her in my arms.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask, kissing the top of her head. She nods against my chest, her arms tightening. "Peyton wants you to come over again soon, too. Maybe another movie night."

Her head tilts up. "I'd like that."

I kiss her upturned mouth, softly at first, then taking it deeper because there's no way I can stop myself from feasting on her lips. Sweet, plump, perfect. The vibration of my phone in my pocket makes me growl in frustration as I lift my head from hers.

"Goddamn it."

Willow laughs and reaches into my pocket to pull out my phone. "It's probably your mom."

Glancing down, I see she's right. It is Mom, asking what I want her to prepare for dinner. Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve her. She does so much. "I'm gonna tell my mom about us soon."

"She doesn't know?" Willow raises her eyebrows, and I cringe.

"Um, not exactly. I didn't know what precisely wewere, so didn't say anything. But now that everything's good, I want her to know. I want you to get to know each other."

Willow's face softens into a grin. "Are you a mama's boy, Ronan Sinclair?"

I grin right back. "Damn straight. Listen, that woman raised me almost single-handedly. She's the reason I'm the ballplayer I am, and the reason I'm the parent I am. She's amazing."

Willow's arms pull me in tight again. "I love that. And I'd love to get to know her better."

We kiss once more before reluctantly separating. "Drive safe, okay, Cherry? Text me later?"

"Deal."

I open Willow's door, watch her get in, and close it behind her. She drives off, and only then do I make my way over to my own vehicle. My entire drive home, I shift gears from ballplayer and boyfriend, to dad and son.

It's easier than I thought it would be to go between the different parts of who I am. Which gives me hope that finding the balance I know I need won't be so hard after all. And when I get home and open my front door to a whirlwind of four-year-old girl throwing herself at me, I know. Missing one phone call doesn't matter as much as I think it does.

Being here and being the best dad I can also means being the best man I can.

And Willow makes me that man.