Splinters

by M R Field

  He pats my shoulder and takes a seat on one of the bar stools at the bench, not bothering to turn around and greet the others. Theo was quiet, but a decent guy. I’d gotten to know him better through the drafting process of my club, and he was good at kicking my arse and working through ideas to make them functional.

  “Hey you.” Trice smiles, offering him some chips out of the chip bowl. “Long time no see. I was beginning to think you were a vampire. I never see you in daylight.”

  “Only on Fridays.,” he chuckles, running his fingers through his hair.

  “I can’t wait for Hazel to start showing.” Trice beams as she stares over Theo’s shoulders towards her. “She is going to look beautiful.”

  “She already is,” I correct.

  “Man, you’re a sap,” Alex gripes. “Have you had an argument yet and at least looked like a regular couple?”

  “Yeah, of course we have, you dickhead, but right now it’s pretty awesome. I’m not disrupting that over petty shit; she’s carrying our kid.”

  “You don’t have to be dating to fight,” Theo mutters under his breath. He turns in his seat and his shoulders stiffen as he spots Hazel and Trin on the far side of the room. Hazel stands there worrying her lip as she chats to Trin, who has her head hung down while one arm is folded across her chest. Our firecracker doesn’t look like herself today.

  “Her mother’s birthday is coming up,” Trice whispers, and I turn to face her. “She has a hard time dealing with it. She’s worst at the end of the year when the anniversary hits.”

  “Will she be okay?” Alex asks, rubbing Trice’s shoulder. I turn back to look at her and notice that Hazel has now put her hand on Trin’s elbow.

  “Yeah, but she might hit the booze a bit and probably pick up some random.” She gasps and covers her mouth, staring at Theo for a moment. “I’m so sorry … I didn’t mean that. You know she’s changed now and um …” she stammers. Theo visibly flinches at the bench, his shoulders stiffening and his fist that was resting on top of the bench is now white from clenching it tightly.

  “It doesn’t bother me.” His voice is controlled, bitter. “We’re just friends,” he spits, the bitterness continuing to drop from his voice.

  Why the hell would he be angry? What’s going on?

  “I’m just going to head over there,” Trice says as she scoots away quickly, avoiding looking at Theo. Something was definitely up.

  “Beer?” I crack open a bottle, tapping Theo’s hand with the bottom of the bottle. He turns sharply and relaxes nodding, a thin smile appearing on his face.

  “You guys are so lucky.” He gestures with his beer to both Alex and I. “You have women who adore you. The one I want would rather play cat and mouse with my dick.”

  “She’ll come around.” Alex clinks his beer with Theo. “I fucked up a dozen times with Trice; I’m thankful every day that I stuck at it to win her back. It’s worth it.”

  “You?” Theo looks at me. “How did you pull it off?”

  “Me?” I shake my head. “I waited, got impatient, and took a huge fuckin’ risk. I could have lost it all, but I didn’t.” I lean forward and stare right at Theo, watching his hard eyes stare back at me. “I’d do it all over again if I had to. The best risk I ever took.”

  Theo shrugs and looks over his shoulder at Trinity. “She used to look at me like I hung the moon. Then suddenly, we drifted, and that look was replaced with her thinking I had stolen it from her and destroyed it. One day, she’ll look at me like that moon was there all along, again.”

  “She already does,” Alex says, lifting his beer to his lips and taking a sip. “She’s just a stubborn firecracker. You got this, Theo—don’t give up on her. Ride her arse until she gives up.”

  “Yeah.” A tight grin passes across his face. “Seems there are only a few things that make her see us for who we are.”

  A sarcastic chuckle escapes his lips. I look over to the girls and catch Hazel staring at Theo with a worried look upon her face. Trice has her arm over Trin’s shoulder as she stares angrily at Theo. Man, she could light his arse on fire with that look. Poor guy. Drop and roll, brother.

  I glance over to Hazel as she reaches into her pocket and pulls her phone out. Over the chatter, I didn’t hear it ring. She stares at the screen for a moment then shakes her head, running her finger up the side of the phone to silence it. She looks up and our eyes meet and I mouth who was that? She rolls her eyes and mouths, Father.

  My nose wrinkles and she giggles. I blow a kiss over to her but she flinches as she stares down at her phone again. Letting out a deep breath, she looks to the ceiling for a moment, but she shows the girls her screen and gestures with her head to leave the room. Trice looks over to me. “Her mother.”

  I drop my bottle on the bench instantly and walk out of the room to find her. Two calls from her supposed ‘non-speaking to her parents’ is enough to have me on edge. I walk into the hallway across from our bedroom where the door is ajar and Hazel’s muffled voice becomes clearer as I edge closer.

  “No,” Hazel says, as I push open the door. She stands next to our bed with her hand on her hip. “I don’t care what Father says; for someone you supposedly hate, you’ve spent more time discussing my personal life with him than you spoke together while married.”

  I stare at her back and try to gauge what type of call this is going to be. It won’t be a social call, that’s for sure. Her mother wouldn’t know they existed. Still, I’m here if she needs me.

  “Absolutely, not … I’m sorry you feel that way about him.” Her voice breaks through my thoughts as her shoulders stiffen while she continues to listen on the phone. Her mother’s voice blares through the earpiece, but I can’t hear what she’s saying. I don’t need to. Her anger is far too evident. I walk up to her and wrap my arm around her waist, needing to be close to her. She stiffens and steps to the side of me for a moment and before I can draw her back, her whole body tenses.

  “Babe?” I ask quietly. Her hard eyes clash into mine and my jaw tightens.

  “What do you mean, your plans?” She shrieks into the phone, “This is my life!” She turns abruptly and begins pacing back and forth along the carpet. “So he told you, did he? No, Mother. You did not deserve a phone call from me,” she spits as her footsteps thump across the floor in sharp and fierce movements, her face reddening with each step.

  “Baby, give me the phone.” I hold my hand out, but she is too focused on the conversation on the other end.

  “That will never happen. He is in denial. No way … absolutely not.” She halts and curls her fist at her side. Her face pales as she listens to her mother’s screeches. She blinks and shakes her head, before she yells, “STOP!”

  Her chest heaves and she tries to take a few deep breaths. “All I ever wanted”—her voice cuts through the still air—“Was a real family. I don’t want to be with him, I don’t want to end things with Robbie, and I certainly do not want to end this pregnancy!”

  What the fuck? My chest tightens as I stare at Hazel, who in an instant has turned pale and is frozen to the spot.

  I don’t think; I march over to her and wrench the phone out of her tight grip and wrap my arm around her shoulders. She sags into my chest as her shoulders shake against me.

  “Babe,” I coo, “I’m here.”

  She sniffs, but her soft cries tear into my heart. I rub up and down her back as the squawking voice of her mother coming from the phone gains my attention.

  “I’ve got this,” I tell my Farfalla. I draw the phone against my ear and ignore the screechy bitch on the other end.

  “Whatever games you’re playing at …” my voice rumbles down the phone as Patricia gasps in surprise. “Better fucking stop now.” My other hand continues to rub up and down Hazel’s back. “Hazel is old enough to make her own choices and whatever you, your ex and Jerry are thinking—fuckin’ end it.”

  “How dare you—” she snarls.

  “No, Patricia. How dare you? How dare y
ou ignore your daughter for a lifetime, challenge your daughter’s choices and tell your daughter to get rid of our child?”

  “She’s my daughter!” She protests.

  “No. You’re barely a mother.”

  “She will listen to me! She will be with Jerry or I’ll never speak to her again.”

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” My voice rises in fury. “Like I give a fuck if you ever call again. If you cannot respect her choices, then lose this number. You will never contact her again. She is carrying my child and if you think for a moment, that I will let you near her while acting like a super bitch, think a-fucking-gain.”

  I pull the phone from my ear and hit the end button, then throw it behind me on the bed.

  “I’m sorry,” Hazel whispers against my chest.

  “Oh, no, Farfalla.” I tilt her head up with my finger to look at me. “None of that venom from her is your fault. Clear that from your mind.”

  Her chin quivers as tears slowly cascade from her cheek. I wipe my thumb across one as anger coils in my stomach. Seeing her sad breaks me every time.

  “I can’t believe my parents. Maybe if they were this chatty while they were married, they’d still be together. She’s ignored me all my life and now she wants to dictate my future? Why can’t I just have a normal family?”

  I kiss her lips and gesture towards to door.

  “All those people that are out there,” I explain. “Are your family. Including my family back home. They are your new family, babe. You know how much they love you.”

  “It just hurts.” Her lower lip trembles.

  “I know, baby.” I wrap both arms around her and hold her tightly against my chest. “Let’s take a moment and then we’ll go back out there. From now on”—my voice tightens—“If your family calls, you either ignore it or hand it over to me.”

  “Okay.” The waver in her voice breaks me. I reach up and grab her cheek. I pull her lips against mine and kiss her, showing her just how much I love her. Her hands grip my shirt as I continue to kiss her, caressing her tongue against mine. She whimpers against my lips, and I reach behind her and smack her arse, startling her.

  “Oh!” She moans against my mouth.

  I stare down at her vibrant cheeks and bright eyes and smile. “I could kiss you forever, Farfalla, But”—I tilt my head towards the door—“We have guests.”

  Her nose crinkles as she lets out a frustrated groan. “Now, I’m all hot and bothered,” she complains.

  “Good.” I tap her arse twice for good measure. “Seems that I had just the medicine to turn that frown upside-down.”

  She rolls her eyes before muttering, “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Go to the bathroom, baby, and check your face.” I gesture to my crotch. “I’m gonna need a second.”

  Her eyes lower to my groin as a slow smile creeps across her face. Uh-oh. “So, telling you to think about your Nonna naked would be the wrong thing to say?” She grins as her eyes flutter innocently at me.

  “Nope, don’t need a minute.” My stomach coils. “I might need a bucket though.”

  She leans forward and brushes her lips against mine. “Love you, Tesoro.”

  “Love you, Farfalla.”

  Later, the oven pings and I put my beer on the counter and grab my oven mitt. Opening the door slowly, I lift the foil edge and see the top layer has melted perfectly. I grab a fork and test the lasagna sheets and find it’s ready to go.

  “You know,” Ty muses as he appears on the other side of the bench, watching as I bring the tray over to put the dish on the heat-proof mats, “if I squint my eyes, you look just like a Nonna cooking her lasagna Mamma mia!” He jokes in a shitty Italian accent. I narrow my eyes at him.

  “You want your balls, Ty-Ty? You know I hate that shit. When have you ever heard my mamma say, ‘mamma mia’?”

  He holds his hands up in surrender and smiles. “It was joke!”

  “Yeah?” I look at his coloured T-shirt. “So’s that shirt you’re wearing. What the fuck is that? Watermelon?”

  “Peach, you colour-blind fool. The chick in the store said it went well with my skin tone.”

  “She obviously thought you batted for the other team.”

  “Fuck off. The chicks will dig it. You’ll see.” He runs a hand down the front of his shirt. “No one can resist greatness.”

  I shake my head and continue cutting through the layers while Alex serves them onto plates. Ty puts his fingers to his mouth and whistles, gathering everyone’s attention.

  “This place isn’t huge; you could’ve just walked over there,” I say.

  “And miss choosing the best cheesy slice? You are out of your fuckin’ mind,” he declares. They all begin to line up to gather a plate and load up on the salads nearby when I hand over a special plate that I prepared for Hazel.

  “Farfalla.” I nod to my hand, getting her attention. “Go take a seat. I’ll bring it over to you.” She rolls her eyes at me taking over her food but I ignore it. I walk over to our steamer on the stove and load the side of her plate with broccoli and potatoes and then walk it over to her.

  “I have legs, Robbie,” she chides. “I can get my own food.”

  “You do have legs,” I agree, placing her plate down in front of her. “And once everyone has left, I look forward to exploring them in great detail with my tongue.”

  She gasps softly as her tongue wets her lips. Jackpot. “So can I get your dinner for you in the future, my love, if I decide to make it up to you later?”

  “Definitely.” A throat clears to her left and Josh, who is here for a break from his academy in Sydney, mutters, “I just knew I should’ve tried harder to get you to change over to my side.” He sighs. “I have long legs you can definitely explore.”

  Hazel snorts and I glare at Josh for a moment, but he is unfazed as he pops a piece of pasta into his mouth and wiggles his eyebrows at me. By now, the table is filled with the gentle murmur of conversation and the clanging of cutlery.

  “What did I miss?” Ty plonks himself down next to Josh, putting a tomato sauce bottle on the table. I will never understand why some people put that shit on perfectly tasty pasta. Fucking disgusting.

  “Not much, just me being a bit cry-baby, as Robbie refuses to turn to the dark side.” He side glances to Ty and flinches when he stares at his shirt. “Man, I know I’ve been out for a while, but there’s no way in hell I’d buy a shirt like that. What were you thinking?”

  I burst out laughing and Ty’s face reddens.

  “Arseholes,” he grumbles as he digs into his lasagna.

  “Overcome the notion that you must be regular. It robs you of the chance to be extraordinary.”

  Uta Hagen

  HAZEL

  “Oh fuck … oh, yeah.” His hands grip anxiously at the crisp sheets beneath his fingertips, the rustle filling the room in his desperate attempt to hold on to the tether that binds him there. His chest rises in sharp pants, the cool air sucking between his now dry lips as his head tilts back, a pained groan vibrating from his deep throat. I watch fascinated as his hips move slightly across the firm mattress, his skin quivering as the trail of goosebumps appearing across his chest and down his torso, his abs contracting with each and every poignant breath.

  “Oh my God,” he breathes, his hips lifting, and I use that moment to draw him deeper into my mouth. His thick shaft is coated from my tongue that runs up and down it, savouring each taste of him. My lips suck, holding him to me, while my hand grips his shaft, tightening as it twists with each deep and luxurious suck. I continue to stare up at him, watching his strong body at my mercy, each rippling muscle fighting against the stroke of my tongue.

  “I want it to be my birthday every fucking day,” he groans. His fingers are now white from clutching the poor and defenceless sheet. “Get up here.” His eyes stare down into mine, darkening as he watches me move up and down his shaft. His gaze lingers on my lips, and I use that moment to suck harder around him. He hisses and throw
s his head back into the pillow as a loud groan escapes his mouth. I feel him tighten against my tongue, and I ignore his pleas for me to crawl up his body. I know he wants me to ride him, but right now, watching the strongest man I know crumble under the stroke of my wrist and suck of my lips is a lavish reward.

  His abs curl as his face tightens and I pump faster, feeling him stiffening even more, his pants leaving his lips in frantic staccato. Before I can gaze up at him, he groans, his abs clenching as his voice shouts and my tongue is coated with his orgasm. With one last pop, I move my lips from his shaft and he twitches, the aftershocks still rolling through his hips. He surrenders to the pillow beneath his head and rubs his hair out of his face, slowing his rapid breathing down.

  I crawl up his body and kiss a trail up his chest, lingering across his pecs and blowing soft air across his heated skin, marvelling as he shivers from my breath.

  “You will be the death of me,” he mumbles, tiredly.

  “A happy death, I hope,” I reply, kissing the base of his jaw.

  His face turns to mine as his palm cups my cheek and his lips gently kiss mine, in a slow assault against them. I stroke his face with my hand and shift to move slightly back, breaking the kiss. I stare down at him and smile. “Happy birthday, Tesoro.”

  His eyes blink up at me as he smiles back. “Thanks, Farfalla. I liked my wake-up call.”

  A small blush tinges my cheeks. I had woken up early this morning and was far too excited to show him his birthday present. His arm had been draped across his face as he’d snored softly next to me, and I moved down the bed to give him a proper wake-up call.

  “It’s only fair. You did, after all, use the same wake-up on me the other day.”

  “Yes, but I at least listened to you when you demanded I join you.”

  I run a finger down his cheek and shake my head. “I’m fine, love. In fact, I want to show you your present.”

  His brows crease in confusion. “That wasn’t it?”

  I snort and shake my head, detangling myself from him and crawling backwards to the side of the bed. “Definitely not.”