Chapter 12

F rom the corner of my eye, I glance at my wife. She looks so cute today with her short blonde hair curled, making her look like the hottest wife alive. When she left me, her hair was halfway down her back. Now that it’s above her shoulders in a style I’m told is a bob … she looks better than ever.

She’s far too quiet on this ride. If this were a few years ago, she would have never shut up. I’ve always been a man of few words, but Paige? She could talk the fucking ears off of Dumbo sometimes. And even though I’m not a huge talker, I’ve always loved that she is. So, the cab of this truck being silent? I hate it.

But things are weird between us, and it’s like she’s keeping her wall up. And it’s fucking thick and tall, and it has spurs all over it.

When we’re stopped at a stoplight, I grab my phone and bring up the music app. It’s on Bluetooth, and right away, a song begins to play. Paige’s eyes peek at me, and the corner of her lips turns up as the light turns green and I press my foot on the gas pedal.

“Trying to force me to sing, are ya?” she murmurs as Hardy’s voice begins to sing “Jack.”

It goes against her beliefs to not sing along to a few music artists when they are on the radio. And Hardy is definitely one of them. Right along with Morgan Wallen, Warren Zeiders, Luke Combs, Bailey Zimmerman, and that handsome fucker, Riley Green. We met him once at a concert a few years ago, and I kind of wanted to punch him in the face just because Paige was blushing so hard.

I even thought about growing out a ’stache. But … that isn’t my thing.

Her head begins to bob. It’s subtle at first before going faster. I see her hand gently tapping her leg, and I grin, knowing my girl’s going to be singing soon.

She sings the rest of the song, and I listen, never joining in. She’s pretty far from the best musician, but I’d never tell her that.

When the song comes to an end, she takes a sip from her water and shrugs. “You know my weakness—that’s for sure.”

“Wait in the Truck” by Hardy, featuring Lainey Wilson, is next, and I know she’s about to basically pretend that she’s live onstage and sing at the top of her lungs. She’s always loved this song.

From behind the wheel, I keep taking small peeks at her, and when the chorus hits, she looks back at me, singing loudly. She wants me to join in, but she knows I don’t sing. So, instead, I just listen to her voice as she attempts to sound Southern.

Luckily, before she can ask me to join in, I see a Starbucks ahead, and I smile before turning in. She reaches forward, turning the music down with her eyes lit up.

“Starbs? Already?” She practically bounces with excitement. “We’re only, like … an hour into our trek. And you’re already buttering me up with my favorite thing?”

“Yeah, I figured if I did, I’d have a better chance of getting some road head on the drive,” I say, keeping a straight face as I pull into the drive-through line and glance over at her, waiting for her answer.

“Nah, I’m all set with that,” she deadpans. “I’ll take an iced caramel brulée latte with cold foam though. And a cake pop.” She pauses. “Make that two cake pops.”

“Two cake pops for two blowies?” I wink, earning me the middle finger. “You’re going to fuck me?” I gasp. “Even better.”

“You’re annoying, and I’m going back to ignoring you.” She rolls her eyes, but her lips turn up slightly even though she tries to hide it by looking out the window.

She can act however she wants. She’s having a good time, even if she’s trying not to show it.

I’m going to have a good time watching her eat the cake pops and listening to her moan while she does it.

When we walk into our old high school gym, there isn’t a set of eyes that doesn’t land on us. For a split second, everyone just stares, mouths open and eyes wide. But suddenly, it hits them that Kolt freaking Kolburne is back home, and they all erupt into cheers.

Instantly, I feel Kolt tense at my side. Some people might want to be a celebrity because they love the attention and fame. For Kolt, he became a professional athlete for one reason only—he loves the game. The rest, if anything, he hates.

“They are just excited to see you,” I utter, giving his arm a small squeeze before dropping my hand down to my side. “Just smile and breathe.”

Aaleah, a girl who was in the class above ours, walks toward him. Leaning closer, she attempts to give him a peek at her cleavage, though he doesn’t take it.

She grips the top of his arm. “I’m so glad you could make it, superstar.” She coos the last word. “I heard about your injury, and I have been so worried about you.”

How classy to have your tits out at a fundraiser. I want to roll my eyes, but I refrain. At least, I think I do. I can’t be positive at this time.

He’s as cold as ice, and she must take the hint because, finally, she drops her hand from his arm and looks at me, plastering on a fake smile. “Hey, Paige.”

“Hi,” I say.

I tilt my head toward Kolt. “I see Mr. Wells. Shall we go visit with him?”

“Definitely,” he utters, not so much as looking at Aaleah again, making her sulk before she struts away.

“Well, aren’t you Mr. Popular?” I say, amused, as we start toward where Mr. Wells is sitting. But before we can make it to him, a couple beats us to it, bringing us to a pause at the center of the gym.

He grumbles something, but I don’t decipher it. And before I can ask, his hand finds mine. I don’t even attempt to hide my shock when my gaze snaps to his.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss.

“What?” He plays dumb as a tiny smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. He waves to the gym full of people. “Now, you don’t have to be jealous if Aaleah comes back up to me, right? Because she’ll know I’m taken.”

“You know what, asshole?” I glance down at our hands, knowing if I pull away right now, it’ll only be another picture the media can use against him. “We are not together. So, why are you holding my hand?”

He leans closer, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “We seemed back together when you spit on my dick before I covered your hand with cum.” His teeth drag over his bottom lip, making me tingle. “And we really seemed together when you let me finger-fuck your pussy until you clenched my fingers so hard that I’m pretty sure they are bruised now.”

For a split second, I almost lose my composure. Almost. But righting myself, I push my shoulders back and cock my head to the side. “Did you ever think … I simply needed dick—or in your case, fingers—and you happened to be there?”

His face instantly fills with anger, and his eyes narrow, darkening to a hue I’ve never seen before on him.

“Fuck that.” He shakes his head. “I know damn well your pussy wasn’t the only thing that’s missed me.”

Leaning in, I decide to play along by planting a kiss on his cheek and clutch his arm the way Aaleah did. “Don’t be so sure about that, superstar .” Pulling my hand away from his, I walk away from him and head toward where I see my mother standing, now with her mouth almost on the ground.

“Well, that was … interesting to watch,” she says, her eyes staying on where Kolt stands, glowering at me. “I see you all still have issues, huh?”

“That’s putting it lightly,” I huff out, turning my back to him and still feeling his eyes on me, like lasers burning into my skin. “He keeps trying to talk, you know, about us. And I just—I don’t know—I freeze up, Mom.”

“Because you’re scared,” she answers matter-of-factly.

“Well, yeah.” I shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be scared? He mentally checked out on me during our marriage. That’d screw with anyone’s head.”

Her eyes move from mine to behind me, and she cringes. “Well, your night is about to get more interesting,” she utters. “Don’t look now, but Brady Gilley just walked up to him. And you know as well as I do, that boy loves to piss Kolt off.”

Turning slowly, I look over my shoulder and find Brady standing beside Kolt. Right away, Kolt’s shoulders go rigid, and his jaw tenses.

“Great,” I whisper, letting out a long sigh.

“Five … four …” my mom says under her breath, and I know what’s about to happen. “Three—oh boy, this is not good.”

Before she can get to two, I bolt for the exit in the gymnasium that leads into the school. If I can go into a restroom, even for a little while, maybe it will all blow over.

A few months ago, Brady happened to be in Boothbay, and I ran into him in town. We got to talking, and he asked if I’d go to dinner with him that night.

Brady is the one guy I had a crush on before Kolt came to town and blew any other guy out of the water, as far as I was concerned. But years ago, I made the mistake of telling Kolt about my first crush, and since then, he’s hated the guy.

And Brady has never been too fond of Kolt either. So, there’s no way Brady is missing this opportunity to boast to Kolt that he took his wife out on a date.

As I rush toward the restroom at the end of the hallway, I hear footsteps behind me, and I know I’m never going to make it there. Glancing over my shoulder, I find Kolt. His face is red, and his eyes are dark.

Fuck my life.

“Tell me why fuckface Brady fucking Gilley just said he was surprised to see us together tonight because a few months ago, you two had gone on a fucking date! Are you serious?” I roar, taking huge steps and catching up to her quickly as she attempts to rush toward the women’s restroom.

“Are you fucking serious, Paige?” I continue to yell like a madman, stalking close behind her with my fists balled at my sides.

“Brady fucking Gilley?” I say again, even louder.

Every single part of my body shakes with anger, growing more intense when his smug smirk plays in my head repeatedly. I wanted to drop that motherfucker right then and there, but we are here for Mr. Wells, so I knew I had to contain my rage.

“Really? How desperate were you to get some dick? You went on a date?”

I expect her to keep walking, and I fully plan to throw her over my shoulder and force her to give me some answers, but instead, she whirls around, her face beet red with rage—or maybe embarrassment.

“Yes, you fucking peckerhead!” she yells.

It’s been a good while since she called me that. I think the last time I heard her say that word was one of the nights I came home drunk after ignoring her messages.

“Of course I’ve been on dates! We’ve been separated for a year and a half! And God knows you’ve been on enough of them.”

Quickly, she turns back around and starts walking again.

“But Gilley? Are you serious?” I follow behind her, getting close enough that I can almost grab her to spin her around.

When she whips around, her hair smacks her face. “What’s. Wrong. With. Gilley?”

Her words send my head rearing back, and my eyes get huge and angry. “I mean, besides the fact that he’s a major tool?”

“Fuck you, Kolt,” she spews. “The only tool in this building tonight is you.” As she sasses me, her nostrils flare, and her neck flushes.

I’m so fucking pissed, and yet … my cock twitches when I see her this way. Knowing that, in seconds, I could be hate-fucking her against a desk in our old classroom. Make-up sex is so fucking underrated, and I’m a sick fuck because I’ve always loved to piss her off and then bury my cock inside her after.

“Says the woman who went on a date while she’s still married,” I growl. “You’re living in a glass house. Be careful throwing those stones, baby girl.”

“ A date?” she hisses before laughing bitterly. “Oh, no, superstar , I went on multiple dates. Many dates. Loads of fucking dates!” She screams the last part through gritted teeth, smoking like a teapot.

“What the fuck, Paige?” I bark, matching her fury. When she tries to turn around, I grab her arm, spinning her back toward me. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. Not until you fucking talk to me. Me. Your fucking husband.”

Her chest rises before she inhales sharply. “You didn’t even come after me!” she screeches suddenly. “You didn’t even try to stop me from leaving either!”

“Bullshit!” I snarl. “You know I did. I told you I did.”

She steps closer, getting in my face. Her body radiates with wrath. “That was two months later, Kolt. Six fucking weeks!” She glares up at me, her body shaking. “Before that? You’d let me go without a damn care. And then you had your fun, apparently came back and saw me innocently talking to another man, assumed I’d moved on, and left. So, no, Kolt.” She grits her teeth. “You didn’t fight for me. And you don’t get to judge how I chose to move on. After all, you’re the one who won’t sign the damn papers.”

“Had my fun?” I growl. “You think losing my wife was fucking fun?” I drag in a sharp breath; every inch of my chest burns. “I barely fucking survived it, Paige. And then there’s you, going on fucking dates, living it up.”

“Ohh, right.” She rolls her eyes. “You barely survived it, huh? I told you, I saw the tabloids, and I don’t believe what you said because it looked to me like you were getting along just fine.”

Clutching her chin, I force her eyes back to me. “There has been no one else since you, Paige. I told you once, and I’ll tell you again. The tabloids? Those were thirsty women trying to get their five seconds of fame by jumping in to take a photo with me before I could walk away.” I lean in a little closer, feeling her breathing against my face. “I haven’t been with anyone but you since we were seventeen, and I don’t want to either. You’re my wife. All I want is you.” My throat burns with emotion, and tears blur my vision. “All I have ever wanted is you.”

For a moment, time stands still, and it really is just me and my wife as she stares up at me. My eyes float to her lips. I know I shouldn’t do this. She’s made it clear she wants a divorce, but, fuck, all I want is to be close to her.

“Why are you saying all of this?” she whispers, looking up at me, doe-eyed. “What are you trying to do?”

I bend down, pinching her chin between my thumb and finger before hovering my lips right over hers. “Because I fucking love you, Paige.” I drag my other hand down her chest, between her tits, and continue on until I’m gripping the front of her jeans tightly, lifting her feet slightly off the ground from one of the loops on her pants. “You’re soaked, aren’t you, baby?” I snarl. “You’re so mad; you want to hate me, but you also want your husband’s cock to be stuffed inside of your tight pussy.”

“No,” she says, trying to sound strong, but coming off absolutely desperate for more.

“Has anyone else fucked you, Paige?” I croak the words out, tears burning my eyes because I’m not sure I even want to know the answer. “If the answer is yes, just say it. Put me out of my fucking misery right now.”

I blink, squeezing my eyes shut because I can’t fucking look at her. She’s been on dates—of course she’s been with other people. Why the fuck did I ask? Especially because I don’t know if I can move past it if she says yes.

“No,” she says so quietly that I barely hear her. “There’s been no one else. I’ve been on three dates. But I’ve never touched another man, Kolt. Not even a kiss.”

When I open my eyes again, I bring my lips to hers and kiss her roughly. “Tell me you don’t want me to take you into a classroom, bend you over a desk, and feed you my cock inch by inch until your pussy is so fucking full and so fucking ruined that you realize your husband’s dick is the only dick you’ll ever take again.”

She whimpers, her mouth opening as she drags in countless strangled breaths, trying to calm herself down. That’s the answer I needed—she didn’t say no.

When I lift her up by her ass cheeks, my steel cock presses against her abdomen, only making me want her more. I walk us into our old Social Studies room and close the door, locking it behind us.

I set her down on her feet before dragging my thumb across her bottom lip. “You were a bad fucking girl. Going on dates with men who weren’t me.” I tsk her. “You should drop to your knees and suck your husband’s dick to show him how sorry you are.”

Somewhere deep within, I know she didn’t do anything wrong. I’d purposely pushed the woman away. But part of me thought she’d never want to date anyone else, and that’s fucking selfish. But then there’s this anger inside of me, coursing through my veins and making me want to grab her by the throat, push her to her knees, and choke her with my cock. Simply because she went out with other men.

Every time I even think about that, pain stabs me in the chest.

She moans, her nipples hardening under the fabric of her shirt.

Paige has always loved to be dominated in some way. She likes it when I take control, and sometimes, we used to get rough. But because of my fucked-up upbringing, I’ve always made sure to never take things too far in the bedroom. I watched my mother get beaten to hell at the hands of my dad, and I’d never want to hurt Paige. Even though it’s a completely different situation, I’m not comfortable with hurting my wife, even for pleasure.

“I’m so fucking mad, Paige,” I snarl, gliding my hand down to my belt and undoing it before unbuttoning my jeans. I push them down enough to take my cock into my hand, and I begin stroking myself. “You have no fucking idea.”

Her eyes float to my dick, and she sucks in a breath before pushing her hand between her own legs.

Reaching out, I pull her hand away. “No. You don’t get to play with your pussy until I say so.”

She whimpers, poking her bottom lip out. “I’m sorry you are hurt that I went on a date, but you didn’t leave me a choice, Kolt. And the dates … they didn’t mean anything. I was trying to survive life,” she cries, giving her head a slight shake. “Survive us.”

“No,” I utter, shaking my head, continuing to slide my palm back and forth on my length. “Do not say you’re sorry that I’m hurt. Just say you’re fucking sorry.” I grit out the words. “Say you fucked up.”

Her thighs clamp together as she watches me work myself with pure need. Her throat muscles bob as she swallows, and finally, her eyes float to mine. “I’m sorry I went on a date with men who weren’t you.”

“How sorry?” I say deeply, tilting my chin up and glowering down at her. “Sorry enough to drop to your knees and let me wreck your fucking throat?”

“Yes,” she breathes out before giving in to me, dropping to her knees.

Backing six feet away from her, I stop until my ass hits a desk, and I sit back slightly with my cock standing straight, anxiously waiting to have her lips wrapped around it.

“Get on your hands and knees, Paige. And fucking crawl to me,” I bark out. “Show me how desperate you are to taste my dick.”

As she does what she was told, crawling against the hard floor, I can’t fucking tear my eyes from her, and when she’s almost to me, I give myself a few more pumps.

“Spit on my cock, Buttercup. Get it nice and soaked before you suck my dick until you’re choking on my cum, thinking about what you’ve done.”

Like the good girl she is, she eagerly pushes her hair back away from her face and spits on my dick. And to make my cock even harder, she stares up at me as she opens her mouth wide and takes me into her throat.

I’ve imagined this so many times since she left me. I’ve spent hours in the shower, picturing her on her knees, lips wrapped around my dick, sucking me off. But nothing prepared me for how good it would feel to actually have her doing it after all this time.

Reaching behind her head, I shove it forward. Forcing her to take me harder and deeper because I know that’s what she wants. I grab a fistful of hair and pull back enough to tilt her head upward. She doesn’t let it faze her though. No, she continues sucking my dick like she’s been starved for my cum for far too long and is desperate to taste it. She might just get her wish soon, too, because I know I’m not going to last long—I mean, fuck … it’s been for-fucking-ever since I’ve felt my wife’s lips wrapped around my length, her tongue swirling against the head of my cock. And when I hit the back of her throat, I realize it’s also been too fucking long since I’ve done that too.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

“God-fucking-damn, baby. I missed how well you suck my dick,” I grunt, and she moans against me, making my brain go haywire. “It’s like your throat was made to take me,” I hiss. A sound—something between a low cry and a laugh—spews from my lips as the tip of my cock hits the back of her throat again.

My balls tighten, tingling and sending a shiver up my spine, and I know I’m at the point of no return. Within seconds, my body is shuddering, and my hold on her hair tightens as I pour my seed into her mouth.

“Don’t fucking swallow,” I somehow choke out even though my brain is completely fucking gone. “I want you to keep that in your mouth until you’re so full that my cum is dripping down your chin, reminding us both that every part of you is mine,” I grunt out, my body twitching as her wet mouth eagerly takes my load.

I try to stay alert, but my vision grows blurry, and white speckles dance in my eyes.

When my sight returns, a strangled groan slips from my lips as I pull out and see drops of my seed spill down her chin.

“Swallow,” I command, my voice coming out gravelly from the aftereffects of my wife finally sucking my dick after far too long.

I watch her throat work to choke me down, and fuck if that doesn’t have my dick jumping again. Once she’s done, she leans forward, dragging her tongue up my length and swirling it around the tip of my cock to lick me clean.

Holy fucking hell, I just came. Why did that send another jolt to my dick?

“Good girl,” I murmur, running my hand over the top of her hair. “Such. A. Good. Fucking. Girl.”

She stares up at me, still on her knees, before running her tongue over her lips.

“Am I forgiven?” she asks, her voice husky and her pupils huge.

My wife loves nothing more than to be on her knees.

“Not yet,” I utter, sliding my briefs and jeans over my hips before buttoning them back up and fastening my belt. “But neither am I.”

“No, you aren’t,” she says boldly.

“So, tell me, what should I do to change that?”

“You can bury your tongue in my pussy,” she says matter-of-factly, like the queen that she is. “You owe me a lot more than that. But if you make me come hard, that’ll be a good start.”

God. Fucking. Damn. My wife is so sexy.

Standing quickly, I pull her to her feet and lift her body against mine. Charging toward the large desk at the front of the room, I set her down on the teacher’s work before pulling her shoes off, one by one. I grab at her jeans and thong, tearing them from her body, and at the sight of her pretty pussy glistening for me, my cock magically hardens.

“Spread those legs, Buttercup. I’m ready to eat,” I say gruffly.

Instantly, her legs part wide.

Gripping her ankles with my hands, I squeeze, glaring down at her. “Who does this pussy belong to, Paige?”

Those words seem to piss her off and turn her on, all at once. Her throat muscles work as she swallows, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Me,” she sasses before raising a brow.

I tsk her, shaking my head slowly. “Oh, baby, if that’s true … then I’d better not taste you. After all, I never eat what isn’t mine. It’s just not polite.”

I let go of her ankles and take in the panic that spreads over her face as she worries she’s not about to get what she needs.

“It’s your turn to earn forgiveness,” she says coldly, completely out of character. “So, go on. Be a good boy and earn it.”

“Be more specific, wife,” I say, testing her, seeing how far she’ll go.

What I don’t expect is for her to say what she does next.

“Drive your head between my thighs and make me come, Kolt,” she demands roughly. “If you want to earn my forgiveness, I suggest you eat my pussy until I tell you to stop.” She raises an eyebrow. “Is that specific enough for you, superstar ?”

Holy fuck.

That’s … well, even though I’m still mad about the Gilley bullshit, that right there is one of the hottest things to ever come from my wife’s mouth.

Dropping to my knees, I wrap my forearms around her legs and pull her down the desk and toward my face. I don’t stop until my tongue tastes her sweetness and her hands are tugging my hair.

After just a few licks, she’s panting like an absolute feral animal. Her thighs hook around my neck, dragging my tongue deeper inside of her, and my licks become longer.

The thing about being with her for so long is, I know all her tells. I know when she’s worked up or when she’s getting closer. I even know when she needs more.

I let my tongue roam a little further back, almost grazing her ass, and she freezes up just enough to send me right back to where I came from. I look up at her to find her studying me as I work, her neck leaning forward.

Bringing my fingers between us, I drive two inside of her, sliding them right in because she’s so fucking soaked. I flick my tongue against her clit and watch her eyebrows pull together and her breathing grow heavier.

“Look at you, dripping all over some innocent kids’ papers,” I rumble against her. “Your greedy pussy is hell-bent on soaking every page.”

I rip my fingers out, replacing them with my tongue, and pull her harder against me. Her hips work with me as she rides my tongue, lying flat on her back.

“Yes,” she cries out, and I feel her start to pulsate against my tongue. “Kolt. Ahh … yes.”

She thrusts her hips against my face over and over again, crying out a slew of curse words before, eventually, her movements slacken. Her breathing is shallow, and her cheeks are a beautiful shade of pink, matching her perfect pussy. And in no hurry, I pull my head from between her legs and let go of her ankles one at a time.

“What about me, Buttercup? Am I forgiven?”

“Not yet,” she says sharply before slipping off of the desk and looking down at the damage.

Cringing, she fixes some of the papers and smooths everything out before she grabs her clothes from the ground and starts to get dressed quickly.

Right now, a mix of panic and frustration covers her face, so I figure it’s better to keep quiet.

“You’re still a peckerhead, and we aren’t automatically fixed,” she says once she’s dressed again, fixing her hair with her palms. “Just so you know.”

Even though I shouldn’t, I can’t stop the smirk that spreads across my face.

“Don’t smile at me like that.” She narrows her eyes, but can’t fight the corner of her lips turning up a tiny bit. “This isn’t a game to me, Kolt.”

“It’s not a game to me either, Buttercup.” I bop her on the nose. “I’ll prove it to you too.”

She inhales, giving me an unsure look before slipping her shoes on. “We need to go out there. Everyone is going to wonder where we went.”

“If Gilley asks where I went, I’m going to say I had my head buried between my wife’s legs, tasting what is mine.”

“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes. “Seriously. Shut. Up.”

Heading toward the door, she unlocks it before pulling it open. “Can you, for once, just promise you’ll behave?”

Thinking about it, I walk up to her and lean against the open door so that I’m towering over her small body. “If I do, will you have a conversation with me tonight? I’m going to ask your dad if we can stay at the cabin for the entire weekend. The two of us. No household memories to distract us. No PT exercises or friends stopping by. Just twenty-four hours. You and me.”

Her face pales, and she swallows harshly. Continuing to stare up at me, she finally nods. “Okay. Deal.”

I bend down and kiss her lips. “Thank you.”

When I pull back, she narrows her eyes. “Oh, and by the way … you still have to do your exercises.”

Damn. This woman sure runs a tight-ass ship.

That’s okay though. Because maybe one of my new exercises will involve both of us getting naked.

As I say goodbye to my mom, I see my dad and Kolt talking, Dad’s hand resting on Kolt’s shoulder. Kolt has always been one of those men who, if he respects you … he really respects you. And if he thinks you’re a shitbag of a human, he won’t give you the time of day. Despite some cruel things my dad said out of shock the night before we got married or the things Kolt said about him the day I left … they respect each other immensely.

When Dad sees me, he smiles before giving Kolt’s shoulder a squeeze and leading him toward us. Before they get too close, my mom kisses my cheek, puts her hands on my shoulders, and looks at me through tear-filled eyes.

“I know everything is weighing on you, my girl. But I also know I saw that smile of yours inside the gym tonight. The one I’ve missed so much. Selfishly, I’m sad you guys aren’t coming to the house to stay with us, but I know staying at the cabin is exactly what you need. When there’s nothing around to distract us, we’re forced to face our problems.” She gives my cheek another kiss and pats the top of my head. “And I want you to know that the church and I will be praying for you. It’s all going to be okay.”

I smile. My mom has recently started going to church, and I’m happy for her because she seems to have really found her tribe there.

“Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

When Dad and Kolt get to us, Mom throws her arms around Kolt while my dad hugs me.

“I’m proud of you for putting your issues aside to take care of him and be there when he needs you most,” he murmurs in my ear. “No matter what happens between the two of you, you’ll never regret that when you got that phone call, you went to make sure he got better.” Pulling back, he kisses my cheek. “I love you. Both of you.” He glances at Kolt. “I meant what I said. If either of you needs something—anything at all—pick up the phone and call.”

“Thanks, Dad. Love you.” I give him one last hug.

“Thank you, Coach,” Kolt says with a nod before turning toward me. “Ready?”

“I am,” I lie, giving my parents one last reassuring smile and holding my hand up. “Bye. Love you guys.”

As we walk toward the truck, I can feel so many eyes on us, watching our every move. This time, Kolt doesn’t try to take my hand in his. Instead, we just move side by side, our arms almost brushing until we reach his truck and pile in.

“What were you and your mom talking about?” Kolt drawls, turning the key in the ignition and making the engine roar to life. “Seemed deep.”

Buckling my seat belt, I wave to my parents as we drive by them while they stand in front of the gymnasium. “She said that she’d have the church praying for us.”

“You gonna pray too?” he drawls slowly, and I shake my head, confused.

“No?” he utters, raising a brow.

Turning his eyes back to the road, he lazily rests his wrist on the steering wheel. “Well, I do plan to have you on your knees plenty this weekend, Buttercup. But it’s not God you’ll be worshipping.” He looks over at me, clearly entertained. “It’ll be my cock.”

My mouth hangs open, and I snap my gaze to him to find him glancing over at me and winking.

“Don’t look so appalled, sweet thing. You know you love wrapping those lips around my cock and sucking my dick until I give you a mouthful of cum. Fuck, the image of it dripping down your chin is getting me hard right now.” He shifts around in his seat.

With my cheeks on fire, I look out the window and choose to say nothing back. Sure, he’s right. I’m oddly obsessed with going down on him. It does things to me that I can’t even explain, making me wild. But that was before we were separated. Now, talking about it feels weird and different.

Even if I did just suck his dick in our old high school and he did eat me out right on the teacher’s desk.

“No more talking until we get to the cabin,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Unless it’s about dinner ideas. The weather. Or cats.”

“I love your cat,” he deadpans. “And I’m not talking about the three-legged one.”

I try not to laugh as I roll my eyes and look out the window.

This man. He could drive me batshit crazy, and I’d probably end up thanking him.