“Luigi,” she says. “This is hotcakes.” She smiles at him.
“Miller,” I say, holding out my hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you for squeezing us in.”
“For Nancy,” he says, bringing her hand to his mouth. “Anything. Shall we?” He turns and walks back into the house, and I look at the limo guy.
“If you hear screaming, you come and get me,” I tell him, and he shakes his head and laughs. I walk into the house, and I’m surprised by the huge open concept room. A white sheet is in the middle of the room. Canvases are all around the room. Paintbrushes are in buckets everywhere. “Do you do classes?”
“Yes,” Luigi says, going over to the paint in the corner, coming back with the two huge bottles. “It’s where I met Nancy.”
“Is there a bathroom I can use?” I ask him, and he points at the bathroom in the corner.
“You better hurry back,” Nancy says, twirling. I walk into the bathroom, locking the door. I put my hands on the sink and let out a huge breath.
I’m in the bathroom for no more than a minute and then go back out. There is soft music playing now, and I look around and then stop in my tracks when Nancy stands in front of me naked. “What is going on?” I ask her. She winks at me, and I swear I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.
“It’s time to get you naked,” she says, coming to me, and if I thought that this night had started off insane, nothing could have prepared me for Luigi coming back in the room naked also.
“Shall we start?” He claps his hands together. “Let’s make art.”
Chapter 9
Layla
I sit on the couch to watch television, but I can’t focus on it at all. I don’t even know what’s going on. I keep looking down at my phone to make sure I don’t miss a text or a picture or anything and even keep checking his Instagram for a picture, but it’s been radio silent for over two hours. I even texted Grandma, but she has yet to answer me.
Maybe pushing Grandma to go out with him was a bad idea. Maybe I should have just bitten the bullet and gone on the date with him. Fuck, it would have been one date, so one night for two hours tops. My mind goes around and around with scenarios as I tap my finger on my phone, and none of them are good. I finally give up, and I’m about to call her when the phone rings, and I see it’s Miller.
“Hello,” I say, putting the phone on speaker.
“Are you home?” he asks, and his voice is low, almost in a whisper.
“Yes, why?” Throwing the cover off me, I walk to the front door, flip on the outside lights, then unlock the door and walk out. Miller stands leaning against the limo, and he puts his phone down as I make my way down to him. “What happened?” He looks exhausted.
“Oh, gorgeous,” he says, and I hate that he gave me that nickname. Okay, I’m lying. I love when he calls me that. “I don’t even know where to start with that question.”
“Where is my grandmother?” I ask, looking around. “Is she here? Did you drop her off at home?”
“Oh, she’s here,” he says, walking over to the limo door and opening it. All I see is her hair, and when I lean in a bit, I notice she’s sprawled out on the back seat.
“What did you do to her?” I ask, poking my head inside and calling her name. When she doesn’t budge or stir, I get out of the limo and look at him with an arched brow, waiting for an answer.
“What did I do to her?” he asks, and his voice goes louder. “What did I do to her?” He shakes his head and runs his hands through his hair. “The question is, what did she do to me?” He points at himself.
“I don’t understand.” I look at my grandmother. “Grandma,” I say, and she doesn’t stir. “What did you give her?”
“What did I give her?” He laughs. “Me? The question you should ask right now is, how was your night, Miller.”
I cross my hands over my chest and roll my eyes. “Fine. How was your night, Miller?”
“Funny you should ask, gorgeous,” he says. “It started off really well. Had this whole thing set up. We were going to go for a gondola ride and then have a picnic in the park under the stars, but hey, shit happens. Right?” He puts his hands on his hips. “Fast forward to getting in the car. Where your grandmother physically assaulted me.” I roll my eyes now. “I thought I was going to be Bruce Lee at one point. She had her hands everywhere.” His eyes go big. “Everywhere. It was like I was fighting with an octopus; her hands were everywhere all at the same time. She tried to get my dick out of my pants five minutes into the date.” He points at his dick.
My eyes automatically go down to his area. “Did she succeed?” I ask, trying not to laugh.
“No, she did not succeed. I had to pry her off me, and when I tried to tell her to stop, she stuck her tongue into my mouth,” he says, throwing his hands up in the air. “All the while, drinking champagne. I had to pick her up and put her in her seat. I almost jumped into the front seat with the driver.”
“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t like it.” I cock my hip. “Let’s be real. She’s the best thing you’ve been with in a long time.”
“I will agree with you on that,” he tells me. “She asked me to take her painting. Said it would be nice.” I look at him, waiting. “Why not? I thought.”
“Oh.” I put my hand to my mouth. “Like a painting class? That doesn’t sound bad.”
“That’s what I thought, too. I see them on Facebook, where everyone’s painting the same thing. It should be nice. I can maybe ask her about you, try to connive her to tell you to date me,” he says, going to the trunk of the limo and opening it. I wait as he takes a sheet out. “Painting. How bad could it be?” He opens the canvas, and all I see are different colors all smashed together. “I came out of the bathroom and came face-to-face with your grandmother.” I look at him as he talks. “Naked.” I try not to laugh. “Oh, and it gets so much better. Luigi, the painting instructor, was also naked.”
“Maybe they wanted you to paint them. Like David.” I try to make an excuse for it, but I swear it takes everything in me not to laugh out loud.
“Come to think of it, I wish that was the reason.” He lets out a bitter chuckle. “No, you see, what they wanted to do was for all three of us to get naked.” My eyes go big. “Paint each other and then have sex with each other while on said canvas,” he says. “Luigi called it taste the rainbow.”
I can’t help it now as I bend over and laugh. “Like Skittles.”
“Who knows?” He throws up his hands, and they fall by his sides. “I have no idea. I was trying not to look at the two naked people in front of me to ask him where he came up with the saying.” He puts his hands in front of his mouth. “I saw things I shouldn’t have today. Then Nancy came running up to me and said she baked me a brownie.”
I run to him now. “Oh my God, tell me you didn’t eat it.” My eyes go wide.
“Are you crazy?” he asks. “I spit it out, but don’t worry, she picked it up and ate it anyway.”
“Is that why she’s passed out?”
“Well, it could be that, or the two hours of sex that she and Luigi had.” He puts his hands on his hips.
“You watched them?” I ask hesitantly, not sure what to think.
“Are you out of your mind?” He shakes his head. “I ran out of there and sat in the car eating the picnic I made for us,” he says as he moves me to the side. “We couldn’t get the music to go loud enough to drown out the moans.” I have no words; all I can do is try not to laugh. “I swear I thought she was going to break a hip.”
“She’s fine,” I tell him as he leans into the car to try to grab her.
“Is she covered in paint?” I ask, and he huffs out and grabs her enough to get out of the car with her.
“No, they both came out to show me the rainbow and then showered,” he says, and all I can do is bite my lip. “Where do you want me to put her?”
“I guess you can put her in the spare bedroom,” I tell him, and then walk by the canvas and stop
. “Is that …?”
“Yup, that’s their rainbow,” he says. Looking at it, I swear I can see a ball sack outline and then an ass. “If you want it framed, I need to tell him by the end of the week.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I think I’m good.”
“You sure?” he asks. Grandma groans in his arms, and her eyes flicker open.
“Oh, hotcakes,” she says, cuddling into him and rubbing his chest as her eyes fall closed again. “Let me rest for a couple of hours, and then I’ll be good to go.” He glares at me while I laugh.
“Show me the spare bedroom,” he says between clenched teeth. I turn to walk back into the house, and he follows me. Stepping into the bedroom, I toss the throw pillows to the side and move the duvet out of the way.
When he places her on the bed, she opens her eyes. “Okay, fine, sweet cheeks, but you are going to have to do all the work.” She throws her hands out to the sides and spreads her legs. Miller backs away, shaking his head. I cover her with the duvet and then turn off the light before we walk out of the room.
“Well, this has been a night to remember,” he says when we get to the door.
“It should have been for her since it cost me twenty-five thousand dollars,” I tell him as we stand in the doorway.
“About that …” he says and looks at me. “When I was sitting in the limo tonight …” He starts talking, leaning closer to me. “While I ate the food and I tried not to think about what was happening inside.” He continues stepping closer, and I suddenly move back, not sure I want him in my space. Not sure I want to be in his space. “I wondered why would she bid so high for me?”
“It was for charity,” I say, feeling my back hit the wall.
“Is that the real reason?” He’s standing so close now that our feet touch each other. “For charity?”
“Yes,” I almost stutter and have to swallow because my mouth is suddenly dry. “Why else would I do it?”
“I think you did it because you were jealous.” His hand reaches up to play with the hair that has fallen out of my ponytail, twirling it around his finger.
“I was not jealous.” I want to push him away because I can’t think when he’s this close. “For me to be jealous, I would have to care.”
He laughs now. “Oh, you care, gorgeous,” he says. His voice goes low, and whereas before I thought he was going to kiss me, I don’t think that this time. So I’m even more surprised when his mouth falls on mine. The kiss is so soft that if my eyes weren’t open, I wouldn’t realize it happens. “You owe me,” he tells me softly, and I can still feel his lips on mine. “And just so you know, I’m going to collect.” He moves away from me, going to the front door. “I’ll text you tomorrow.” He opens the door, and it slams behind him, and for the first time in a long time, I have no comeback.
Chapter 10
Miller
I walk past the canvas and get into the limo. “Take me home, Jimmy,” I say, closing my eyes to block the throbbing in my head. I thought I had seen it all. I thought that I was open to just about everything, but Nancy is way out of my league. Fuck, she’s out of everyone’s league. She’s in a league of her own.
My phone beeps in my pocket, but when I see it’s an email from Candace, I just turn my cell off. I can’t even think right now, let alone answer her email.
When I get home, I don’t even bother bringing in the blanket or the extra cases of wine that I brought just in case. After all the shit Jimmy saw and heard tonight, it’s safe to say he’ll never do me a favor again in this lifetime.
Dragging my ass to my bedroom, I don’t even bother to turn on any lights before I slip into bed naked and close my eyes. I toss and turn most of the night, the nightmare from the day before making me jump awake.
At six a.m., I finally give up and get out of bed, walking into the kitchen as soon as the coffee maker starts. Walking over to the big coffee table in the great room, I pick up the remote to turn the television on and switch it to SportsCenter. The ninety-five-inch screen lights up the whole room, so I don’t have to turn on any lights. After pouring my coffee, I grab my laptop and head over to the couch, taking my first sip of coffee right before I sit down and watch the highlights from the night before. The season just started, so everyone is fresh out of the gate, including us.
My email is full of the same, and I answer the one from Candace first, asking about my calendar for the next two months. In the off-season, I usually do a lot of meet-and-greets. Last year, I did my first ever kids hockey camp in my hometown of Montreal. It was such a success that I’m spending most of the next summer there doing a whole month.
Tomorrow morning, we leave for a five-day road trip. We hit St. Louis, who won the cup last year, Detroit, and then Washington. Not only will it be hard mentally but it will also be physically grueling. Once I finish my coffee, I get up and walk over to the front door, putting on socks and my sneakers, then walk up the stairs to my home gym. The room has three walls of windows overlooking my backyard, so I grab the remote and open the pull-down shades. I also turn on the television before I climb on the bike.
I ride until my legs are jelly, then step off and grab a towel. After wiping my face, I finish off a bottle of water. Looking up, I see it’s almost eleven o’clock, and I smile, knowing I’m about to talk to Layla.
Walking over to the bike, I grab my phone and sit down on the workbench to call her number. I don’t know if she’s going to answer. She usually sends me to voice mail. Fuck, it took me two months to finally figure out her number, but I did.
As the phone rings, I put it on speakerphone and look out the window at the shining sun. After the fourth ring, I’m about to hang up when she answers the phone. “Hey there, hotcakes.” She laughs, and I groan.
“It’s all fun and games until people get naked,” I tell her, and she laughs even louder. “How is Grandma today?”
“She’s fabulous,” she tells me. “Slept twelve straight hours, then woke up and decided to do a little yoga in my living room.”
“Jesus, I guess Luigi really wore her out.” I shake my head.
“You didn’t let me get to the best part of the story. She did her yoga on her canvas that you left on my front lawn.”
It’s my turn to laugh now. “It’s not funny.” She tries not to laugh. “Do you know how much bacteria is on the mat?”
“I mean, the bodily fluid alone will have your house lighting up under a black light.” I point out, taking another gulp of water.
“Yeah, whatever,” she says. I hear her taking a sip of something, and I wonder where she is right now. Is she in her kitchen at the table? Is she dressed or still in a robe? “At least I didn’t want to cry when I saw a man naked.”
“What are you talking about?” I huff out. “I see naked men almost every day.” She laughs. “Not like that, pervert.”
“According to Grandma, the minute you saw Luigi’s sausage, you looked like you were going to cry.” I love hearing her laughter. It’s so carefree, and she’s never really laughed around me before. I’m used to seeing her glare and having her be snippy.
“It was shock.” I gape. “Shock at seeing not one person naked but two people in front of me naked. Two people I just met,” I say, my voice going louder.
“Oh, please,” she says, and I can almost see her rolling her eyes. “Like you’ve never had a threesome before.”
“Okay, one.” I start. “I’ve never been in or had a threesome.”
“Yeah, right.” She sings the words. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“Gorgeous, there is one thing I never do, and that is lie.” I look out the window. “There is nothing worth lying about. With that said, I’ve never had a threesome.” My voice goes low. “Besides, when I’m with a woman, I want to spend all my time worshiping her. You’ll see,” I slip it in and then continue. “So when are you going to make it up to me?”
“How about tomorrow or the next five days?” she says.
“I get home Tu
esday night, and then we have games on Thursday and Saturday. But I have Sunday free before we leave on Monday for an eight-day road trip. God, this month is going to suck so bad.” I close my eyes. Usually, I’m okay with travel. I’ve gotten used to it as the years passed by, but lately, it just sucks.
“Oh, stop acting like you don’t like it. Besides, don’t you have someone in each city to hook up with?” she asks, and I get up, walking downstairs.
“I used to.” I am not going to lie to her. “When I was younger.”
“Oh, because you are tipping the scale at thirty now.” She laughs as I set the phone on the counter and open the fridge.
“Should I have chicken or steak?” I ask, looking down at two prepared meals. I usually get them five nights a week, so I know they are healthy and ready to eat. Otherwise, I would order pizza all the time.
“It depends,” she says, and I hear rustling. “How is the steak cooked?”
“Medium with steamed veggies and a sweet potato,” I tell her and then open the chicken one. “Grilled chicken, basmati rice, and steamed broccoli.”
“Um, I would go for the chicken,” she says, and I make a mental note of that. “I only like steak when it’s grilled in front of me.”
“Same,” I tell her, putting the steak back into the fridge. “Now, what were we talking about?” I ask after I put the chicken in the microwave.
“I was trying to get off the phone with you when you started blabbing your mouth,” she says, and I know she’s lying. “But since you want to talk, we were discussing all the women you have sex with in the different cities.”
I laugh. “That is not how I worded it at all.”
“It is pretty much exactly what it is.” She laughs. “You can sugarcoat it all you want. They are called puck bunnies, and they are everywhere.”
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