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He hasn’t even cracked the bag open and the potent, skunk-like fragrance has overtaken the powerfully briny smell of my board shorts and yellow jersey hanging up in the bathroom. I haven’t smoked weed in six months.
Lindsay has pretty much resigned herself to the reality that smoking weed helps me keep my temper under control. She saw firsthand the kind of damage I can inflict on a person when I beat the crap out of Nathan in front of her almost ten years ago. Weed keeps me grounded. It helps me not take the bad shit that life throws at me too seriously.
Unfortunately, it also keeps me from taking the good stuff seriously. Which is why I stopped smoking as soon as I moved to the top of the CT rankings in the spring. I wanted to make sure I didn’t get complacent and start slacking off on the training. I know some of the guys on the tour think I’m crazy because I won’t skip a training session or cheat on my diet to go out and have drinks or get pizza. But I truly believe my refusal to compromise is what has set me apart from them this year.
As much as I want to inhale some of that dank weed and just drift off into a place where rankings and renovations and retirement are distant thoughts, I can’t do it. I have to stay focused or I’ll lose my edge. And with Carlos Ferreira nipping at my heels, I can’t afford to slow down, not for a second.
“Nah, I’m good, man. I’ll just watch you two get baked, then I’ll put on my tap shoes to keep you entertained.”
Lena puts her feet up on the coffee table in the sitting area and leans back on the sofa next to me. “Yeah, I think I’ll sit this one out, too,” she says, taking a long sip from her beer. “We have to get up early to make the flight back.”
Yuri shakes his head. “You know how hard it was for me to get this strain? I had to go through three middlemen.” He stands up and heads for the door leading out onto the balcony. “I’ll be chillin’ outside, enjoying my last night in California, while you suckers sip that cancer juice.”
He closes the door behind him, because Lena is very strict about him smoking indoors, and disappears into the dark shadows of the balcony. I sit up to set my beer on the coffee table and the sudden movement makes Lena drop her beer on her shirt.
“Shit! I’m sorry,” I say, reaching for her shirt, then immediately drawing my hands back when I realize what I’m doing. “Oh, fuck. I didn’t mean to do that. Sorry.”
She laughs as she stands up, setting her beer down on the table before she peels her T-shirt off. My heart stops for a moment, until I realize she’s wearing a bikini top underneath. She uses the dry part of her T-shirt to wipe the beer off her abdomen as I apologize a few more times.
“Dude. It’s just a little beer. I’m not gonna die,” she says, spreading her arms wide. “See? Still alive.”
I glance at her calf to keep from staring at her bikini top. “How’s your leg?”
“Good as new,” she says, brushing off the question as she turns her body so the injury is facing away from me.
“Are you trying to hide your shark bite? ’Cause if it were me, I’d be down in the lobby getting my picture taken with that thing. I’d having a fucking Shark Bite Photo Booth set up, five dollars for a snapshot with me. I’d be calling news stations and reenacting that shit in slow-mo.”
She shakes her head. “That’s because if you got bitten by a shark, it would be the shark bite heard ’round the world. You’d have shark experts flocking here from all corners of the world to put their two cents in. I’m not you. No one gives a shit if my leg is torn off by a shark.”
“That’s not true. I would give a shit.” I smile at the way she blushes. “I mean, who else is going to tell me my 360s are shittier than a baby’s diaper? I need you around to keep me on my toes.”
She suddenly looks uncomfortable. “Speaking of babies… you should probably call Lindsay and ask how the twins are doing.”
I sigh as I realize she’s right. I spoke to Lindsay briefly right after I stepped off the stage, but it was a rushed conversation. I need to call her to say good night to the girls. I hope they’re still awake.
“I’m gonna turn in,” I reply. “Don’t let Yuri get frisky with your shark bite. I need you ready for France in two weeks.”
She smiles. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
I close the door to my bedroom and slide my phone out of my pocket. When I dial Lindsay’s phone number, there’s a brief moment of tension in the pit of my belly, a moment where I chastise myself for hoping she’s already asleep. Letting out a deep sigh, I lie back on the bed and smile when I hear her voice.
“Hey, champ,” she says, her voice low and silky. Mila is probably already asleep next to her.
“Hey, baby. Are the girls asleep?”
“Mm-hmm. Mila’s in her own bed tonight. The electrician came and finished up what you started.”
“And by finished what I started, you mean he fixed the wiring in the bedroom, right?”
She laughs. “No, I mean he fixed my wiring.”
“Not funny.”
“Adam, don’t get your wires crossed,” she says with a maddeningly sexy chuckle. “I’ve been lying naked in our bed for the past ninety minutes, waiting for you to call.”
And just like that, the blood rushes to my cock as I imagine her lying naked on our comforter, her swollen breasts spreading as her skin gleams under the glow of the lamplight.
“I want to see you.”
She switches the call to FaceTime to activate the video and the first thing I see is her beautiful face, the light sprinkling of freckles across her nose making her appear much younger than thirty-two. She bites her lip as she slowly pans the camera down her neck, stopping when it’s pointed at her breasts. She takes her breast in her hand, letting out a soft moan as she massages the succulent flesh. She whimpers as she begins tweaking her hard, pink nipple, and my cock stands at attention.
She turns the camera back to her face and the blissful look on her face is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. “I wish you were here,” she murmurs.
“I wish I was there. I’d be buried so deep inside you, your brain would feel my cock.”
She laughs. “What’s that move called, a brain tickler?”
“It’s called a brain massage. I’m the only doctor in the entire world qualified to perform them. I can do it from inside your mouth, too.”
She closes her eyes and moans as she slides her finger into her mouth. “Mmm… My brain has a lot of kinks that need to be worked out.”
I smile and shake my head at this pun. “I can’t do this. Yuri and Lena are right outside,” I say, adjusting my shorts in the crotch, trying to get my cock to settle down. “But if you don’t fall asleep, I’ll call you back when they’ve gone back to their room. And we can work out those kinks. I’ll whip that brain into submission.”
“Did you say whip?” she says, casting a sultry look at me through the camera.
I smile as my chest floods with warmth. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful. I love you, you know that?”
She shrugs. “You can prove it to me when you get home. I’m going to bed. Good night, champ.”
“Sweet dreams, baby.”
I’m about to end the call when she calls out to me.
“Hey, Adam!” She looks a bit apprehensive as I bring the phone back up to my face so she can see me.
“What’s up?”
She sighs before she raises her eyes to meet my gaze. “Next time, call when the girls are still awake. Kaia really wanted to talk to you after she heard you won.”
I don’t know if the ache in my chest is brought on by guilt or annoyance. We were ending the conversation on such a high note, then she had to bring up the fact that I couldn’t be a good enough father tonight. On a night that I’m supposed to be celebrating, instead I’m lying in bed in a hotel room, but she doesn’t see that. All she sees is that I was too late.
“I wish I had called earlier, but I was dying to get cleaned up so I could relax. I’ve been going nonstop for twelve days straig
ht. Can you cut me a little slack?”
I can see her brain working out how to respond, but she doesn’t mind the silence as she tries to find the right words. “I understand. They’ll understand when they finally get to see you tomorrow. They miss you so much… We all miss you. Twelve days is a long time to go without any corny jokes… or brain massages.”
I shake my head at her cheekiness. “Hey, baby. What’s worse than ants in your pants?”
She cocks an eyebrow. “Uncles?”
I gasp at her reply. “That’s wrong on so many levels. And also totally correct. I guess I’ll let you go to sleep now. But I may be a little late coming home tomorrow. I have to take my chameleon to the doctor. He’s not changing colors anymore. I think he might have a reptile dysfunction.”
Finally, she laughs out loud, a hearty, sexy laugh that sends chills over my skin. “Good night, champ.”
“Good night, baby.”
Seven
The girls are so restless as they wait for Adam to come home, jumping up and down on the sofa as if it’s a trampoline. I tried to get them to settle down and make some homemade cards wishing their dad congratulations for being number one, but Mila started throwing a tantrum and had to be put down for a nap. Now she’s awake and fully refreshed, already arguing with her sister over what channel to watch on TV, and Adam isn’t going to be home for another four hours.
