Lewis laughed dryly. She was probably right. He didn’t mention his aborted career – the whole reason he’d come down to find her in the first place. He couldn’t ask her to be his therapist again and he didn’t want her thinking that it was her fault. Because it wasn’t. As much as Lewis had tried to run from the truth, this whole disaster was all down to him.
Slowly, he got to his feet. Now that it came down to it, he didn’t want to leave them. He’d had a really fun time playing with Angelo and the idea of never seeing Rosie again hit him harder than he thought it would. Somewhere along the line, he’d gone from trying to trick her into bed with him to actually really caring about her. It was a new experience for Lewis.
“I guess I’ll see you around—I mean, I guess not…I…have a nice life, Rosie. Thanks for everything,” he told her, stumbling over his words.
She nodded. “You too, Lewis.”
Lewis turned to Angelo, who was still completely absorbed in eating his ice cream and oblivious to the world around him. “Hey, buddy,” said Lewis, his words catching in his throat. “I gotta go.”
The little boy started, his dark eyes focusing on Lewis. “You’re leaving?” he asked, looking sad. “But I thought you were coming home with us for dinner!”
“I…” Lewis glanced at Rosie desperately.
“Lewis is a very busy man, Angelo,” Rosie told her son. “He’s got a lot of things to do.”
Angelo’s lower lip trembled. “It’s because you don’t like me, isn’t it?” he asked quietly, his whole body drooping.
“What?” Lewis asked, taken completely by surprise. “Why would you think that, Angelo?”
The little boy sighed. “Because I’m different. It’s okay. Some of the kids at school don’t like me either. They say I’m dumb. If you don’t like me, you don’t have to pretend.”
Lewis was furious. “Other kids at school say you’re dumb? Well, they’re the dumb ones, Angelo. Because it’s pretty obvious to me that you’re one smart kid,” he said, sitting down again and tipping Angelo’s chin up with one finger. “Trust me, Angelo. I like you a lot. You’re one of the best catchers I’ve ever met! And I wish I didn’t have to go, but that’s how it is.”
“Really?” the boy brightened. “You mean it?”
“Of course,” said Lewis.
“Then why don’t you want to come for dinner?” Angelo asked, frowning. “Are you sure you can’t come? 100% positive?”
Lewis glanced at Rosie. The woman sighed as she nodded, waving a hand in resignation. Grinning, Lewis turned back to the boy. “Well, maybe I can reschedule my appointment.”
Angelo beamed at the baseball player, once more throwing his tiny arms around the man’s neck. “Yes! Yes! Reeskjewel!” he said, doing his best to pronounce the new word.
Laughing, Lewis hugged Angelo to him.
“Mom promised me pasta tonight!” Angelo told him, leaning back so he could look into Lewis’ face. “You’ll like it because mommy makes the best pasta sauce. She says it’s because of the secret ingredient.”
“Oh, really?” Lewis asked. “And what’s the secret ingredient?”
“I can’t tell you that!” Angelo said, appalled. “It’s secret!” Then he glanced around, checking who was listening to their conversation. “But maybe later, when we’re at home and no one can hear us, I’ll whisper it to you really quietly, okay?”
“Deal,” said Lewis.
“Lewis is coming for dinner, mommy!!” Angelo turned back to his mother grinning. “Can you believe it? He’s the best baseball player of all time!”
Rosie nodded, her smile much smaller than her son’s. “That’s right, sweetheart,” she said. “He is.”
“Oh, but you have to behave at the table,” Angelo told Lewis solemnly. “You can’t slurp your noodles up in one big gulp. If you do that then you won’t get dessert.”
“Right,” said Lewis, nodding just as seriously. “Thanks for warning me. I wouldn’t want to miss dessert. I bet your mom makes great desserts.”
“Nah,” said Angelo, “she buys the dessert. She hates the oven because she always burns herself.”
Lewis raised his eyebrows at Rosie over Angelo’s head and she rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me regret this,” she warned Lewis, but there was the tiniest hint of a smile in the corner of her mouth.
Chapter 6
As Rosie drove them home, Lewis and Angelo sat in the back discussing baseball. Angelo told Lewis about all his favorite games, recounting in detail who played and what happened, impressing Lewis with his memory.
When they got home, Rosie set them to work making the salad and Lewis found himself at a loss. He’d never had to make a salad before. The furthest his cooking skills went was boiling the water for pasta or turning on the microwave. He was about to chop up the carrot when Angelo, who was standing on a stool next to him washing the vegetables in the sink, intervened, shaking his head at the older man. “You don’t chop carrots for salad, Lewis,” he told him, passing him the grater. “You grate them.”
“Really?” Lewis asked. “Okay then.”
With only a few minor mishaps, the salad was slowly finished. By the time Angelo ran off to put it on the table, Lewis was feeling pretty proud of himself. Although he had to admit that it hurt his pride a little to see that, while he and Angelo had been making a simple salad, Rosie had quietly whipped up a huge batch of chicken fettuccini alfredo. “That smells amazing,” he told her as she carried it out to the table.
Rosie silently nodded her thanks. “Can you set the table, please, Angelo?” she asked.
“Yep!” the little boy replied, scampering back into the kitchen. “Come on, Lewis! I’ll show you where the plates are.”
As they set the plates and cutlery out on the table, Angelo looked up at Lewis and asked, “Lewis, are you hungry?”
“Yeah, I’m starving!” said Lewis with a grin. “How about you, Angelo?”
The little boy nodded, looking concerned. “Does that mean you’re going to hit someone?”
Lewis froze in the middle of placing a knife and fork. “What?” he asked. “Angelo, why would you think I’d hit someone because I’m hungry?”
Angelo bit his lip. “Because sometimes when people get really hungry they get really angry. Like me. And then they do some stuff that they don’t mean to do. Like the time you punched that pretty lady in a restaurant. Mom said it was because you were hungry.”
“Angelo likes to watch the news,” Rosie told Lewis. She watched his reaction carefully, curious to see how he’d respond to the situation.
Lewis nodded. “Your mom was being nice,” he said. “I wasn’t really hungry – or, at least, I wasn’t hungry for food. I was being a jerk and a bully, like those kids at school that say you’re dumb.”
Angelo’s mouth turned down. “But why would you do that? I thought you said that those kids are the dumb ones. Does that mean you’re dumb too?”
The baseball star smiled sadly. “Sometimes, Angelo, I can be really dumb. And I can be very selfish. Do you know what being selfish means?”
Angelo nodded. “Yeah. It’s like when you don’t want to share with your friends.”
“That’s right. Except I don’t have very many friends because I can be really selfish.”
“I can be your friend,” said Angelo. “I’ll tell you if you’re being selfish.”
“Thanks, buddy,” said Lewis. “But your mom is – was – helping me to not be so dumb.”
“Yeah, my mom’s really good at helping people,” said Angelo. “Are you better now?”
“Way better,” said Lewis. “You’re right. Your mom’s pretty good at helping people.”
Angelo came around the table and wrapped his arms around Rosie’s waist in a tight hug. “I love her the most,” he told Lewis. “She’s the smartest person I know.”
Lewis smiled, his heart constricting as he watched Rosie smile down at her son and tenderly ruffle
his curls. “She sure is smart,” he agreed.
Rosie shook her head. “Let’s eat, guys! I’m hungry and the food’s going cold.”
“Yeah!” Angelo shouted, running back to his chair.
***
It was possibly one of the happiest dinners Lewis had ever had. The three of them laughed and joked and Angelo showed off the origami he was learning in school, making a very lopsided crane out of his napkin. It had been a long time since Lewis had eaten dinner with anyone other than Ben, his teammates, or a woman he was trying to sleep with - and those were very different kinds of dinners. He liked this one better.
After dessert – fruit salad, no ovens needed – Lewis helped Rosie put Angelo to bed. At the boy’s request, he sat down beside him and read a Bernstein Bears book until the little boy’s eyes drifted shut. They were only halfway through the slim picture book, but Angelo was worn out from the excitement of the day. As quietly as he could, Lewis got up and turned off the light.
As he shut the door behind him, he noticed two glasses of wine on the kitchen counter. “Do you…I can go, Rosie,” he said softly, gesturing to the wine.
The woman nodded. “You can. Or you can have a glass of wine with me,” she replied.
“Do you really want me to?”
“Trust me, Lewis. If I didn’t, you would know.”
Lewis smiled. “Very true.”
Rosie passed him a glass and he clinked it against hers in a quiet toast. “Thank you,” he said. “This has been…thank you.”
Rosie nodded, sipping her wine. “Couch?” she asked.
Nodding, Lewis followed her to the living room. For a moment they just looked at each other, each unsure where to start. “I’m sorry,” Lewis blurted out at last.
Rosie raised her eyebrows. “For which part, exactly?”
“For all of it. For being such a dick the first time we met. For being such a dick in general. For hitting on you and making you feel uncomfortable. For just wanting to get into your pants and not thinking about your feelings. For everything. For fucking everything up.”
“And what have you fucked up?” Rosie asked, sipping her wine.
Lewis laughed wryly. “What haven’t I fucked up? My career, my friendships, the possibility of being with you.”
Rosie’s eyebrows shot up. “With me?” she asked.
Lewis nodded. “I…you’ve really…I’ve never thought about anyone else before, about how they feel or how what I’m doing makes them feel. You’re the first person to ever make me realize that other people have feelings too and that my actions hurt them. God, that’s awful to admit out loud. How has it taken me this long?”
Rosie chuckled. “Maybe you’re not an entirely lost case, after all, Lewis.”
He shook his head. “Today has been amazing, Rosie. Playing with Angelo…I’ve never felt so comfortable with anyone in my life. He’s great and you’re great and you’re lucky to have each other. And you both deserve the best. And I…I’m definitely not the best.” Taking one more sip, Lewis set down his wine glass. He took a long look at Rosie and then stood up. “So, I’m going to go now. And you don’t need to worry: I’ll stay out of your life. You’ll never have to deal with me and my shit again. But I really hope that you find someone who deserves you – you and Angelo. Thanks again for everything, Rosie.” And, with that, he headed for the door.
Rosie watched him walk away in silence for a moment. Then she set down her wine glass and stood up. As Lewis was tugging on his jacket, she came up to him and grabbed him by the lapels. Lewis’ eyes widened.
“Rosie—” he began, but she cut him off, pulling him down into a deep kiss.
Lewis put his hands on either wall to steady himself. Her lips were soft and warm on his, just as they had been at the bar, and he felt as if his body would melt into hers any second. When he’d gotten his balance back, he wrapped his arms around her, one hand burying itself in her hair and pulling her head back so that he could deepen the kiss. Rosie reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Suddenly, Lewis realized what they were doing and broke away, keeping Rosie at arms’ length. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, slightly breathless from the kiss.
Rosie raised one eyebrow. “Like I said before: if I didn’t, you would know.”
Lewis didn’t hesitate. Stepping forward, he wrapped Rosie in an enormous hug, kissing her passionately, his kiss filled with all the relief, gratitude, and love he felt pouring through him. “Thank you,” he murmured, nuzzling into her shoulder and trailing kisses along her neck. “Thank you.”
Rosie giggled softly, his nose tickling her skin. “Why don’t you come show me how grateful you are, Lewis? Actions speak louder than words.”
Lewis straightened, grinning down at the tiny woman. “I’d love to,” he said, his smile growing wicked. Picking Rosie up easily, he carried her through the small apartment to the only room he hadn’t seen yet: her bedroom. Shutting the door behind them, Lewis deposited her on the large, unmade bed. The city lights in the streets below kept the room half-lit so Lewis didn’t bother turning on anything else.
Working quickly, he pulled off Rosie’s t-shirt and undid her bra, throwing them to the floor. Taking her face in both hands, he kissed her deeply, then began to work his way down her body, kissing her neck, her collar bone, her small, pert breasts with their dark nipples already hard and pointing skyward.
Tenderly, he drew the flat of his tongue over one breast and then the other, beginning with the sensitive skin underneath them. Rosie sighed with pleasure, her hands burying themselves in his hair. Then, with the very tip of his tongue, he traced the dark edge of her areolas, swirling closer and closer to the nipples themselves while Rosie arched her back, pressing herself closer to him. Finally, he brought each nipple fully into his mouth, sucking rhythmically as his tongue flicked back and forth along their length. Rosie moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair.
Kneeling down at the edge of the bed, Lewis kept one hand on her breasts, teasing her wet nipples, while he undid her belt and fly. Reluctantly, he let go of her breasts, kissing the smooth planes of her stomach as he pulled off her tight jeans and revealed the tanned legs he’d loved to watch during their sessions. Dropping her clothes on the floor, he ran his hands up her inner thighs – the skin was as soft as it looked. Gently, he began to kiss and nip his way up from her knees, enjoying the way she squirmed and sighed.
When he finally reached her pussy, it was already wet with anticipation. Likewise, his erection was already throbbing, straining uncomfortably against his fly. With one hand, he undid his zipper, freeing his cock, and, with the other, he spread her lips wide. Leaning forward, he delicately ran the flat of his tongue up across her pussy, enjoying her warm, salty taste. Above him, Rosie moaned.
Savoring the intimacy of the act in a way he never had before, Lewis explored her. He took each of her folds into his mouth, tracing their ridges and dips, sucking them until they were slick and Rosie was gasping. Then, slowly, he made his way to her clit, tracing it with his tongue, teasing her, as Rosie’s hands clenched in the sheets and she whimpered with desire. Lewis chuckled and, finally, brought the sensitive nub into his mouth, massaging it with his lips. Rosie gasped at the sensation, her back arching as she desperately tried to get even closer to Lewis.
As he sucked her clit, lapping it gently with his tongue, he slid a finger into her slick pussy, stroking her g-spot with his fingertip, keeping time with his mouth and tongue. Rosie’s breathing grew shallow and frantic and her pussy began to spasm around him as an orgasm neared. “Oh God,” she moaned between gasps. Lewis picked up the pace, working frantically to get her off. He was rewarded with a sudden moan as her pussy clenched hard around his finger and her whole body began to shake. He smiled, his lips never leaving her clit.
When her orgasm had faded, Rosie propped herself up on her elbows. “Don’t you want me to—” she began softly, but Lewis gently pushed her ba
ck down.
“You told me to show you how grateful I am,” he whispered. “So let me.”
“Yeah, but—”
But Lewis had already returned to his work, his tongue massaging her taint as his fingers teased her clit. Rosie moaned again and stayed where she was, bringing her feet up to rest on Lewis’ shoulders.
Lewis had always been more of a taker than a giver when it came to sex. Foreplay for him consisted of enjoying long blowjobs from star-struck fans and giving only minimal head in return. Sure, he liked to play with their tits a bit, if they were nice enough, but, for the most part, he was there to get off. He wasn’t too concerned if his partner did as well.
But, as he played with Rosie, exploring every inch of her most private places, he found that he enjoyed making her happy. It turned him on to see her writhing and panting as he sucked her clit or licked her pussy. Knowing she was having a good time got him harder than he’d ever thought possible.
Bad Boys Rule Page 70