“Mom?” Justin’s voice tugs me from romance straight to gross.
“Uh. No? Savannah. Remember?” Has the smell of success gone to his head? Oh crap, does he have a Mom kink? Is that even a thing?
He laughs and points to my right. His parents are both standing off to the side, his mom is giving him a shy wave. They’re not in the signing line, but she’s clutching a copy of his new book against her chest, just like I am, and it warms my heart.
Justin gets up from the table again and tackles his mom in a huge bear hug that draws “awwws” and dreamy sighs from his adoring readers. His dad pulls him into a gruff hug, and despite the din in the small space I hear his voice cut through the noise.
“Even though I thought you cheated, it didn’t make me love you any less, son. I’m sorry.”
Wow. The statement hits me in the solar plexus, and I don’t know how Justin isn’t in the fetal position on the ground crying his eyes out.
Even though I thought you cheated.
Does that mean he doesn’t think that anymore?
It seems Justin has the same thought as he searches his parents face. “What? I…”
His mom rubs his arm. “We get Tabitha’s newsletter too, Justin. We read it all.”
Justin pales, his frown suggests he’s not thrilled that his parents are reading the 4-1-1 on his team from a gossip column, but his shoulders fall just a little.
His dad pats him on the back. “We’ll talk more later, but I needed to at least say that much.”
His mom is dabbing at her eyes with the corner of a scrunched up Kleenex. I feel like I just witnessed a moment I had no business being a spectator to, and from the look in Justin’s eyes, he’s going to need help unpacking what just happened.
Athena finally notices me and makes her way over to where I’m standing next to the Ashes. I introduce her to Justin’s parents, trying to keep an eye on him while he makes his way through the long line still in front of him. Chatting, signing, smiling for pictures, more chatting. Frieda places a steaming mug of coffee in front of him and the grateful smile he tosses her says it all. He’s spent.
Every now and then, he glances over to where his parents are chatting to Athena and now some of his teammates, too. It’s like he’s expecting them to be gone every time he checks. What his dad just said in the middle of the bookstore is a pretty big deal, and Justin probably has a lot to say about it, but he’s doing a great job at staying relatively focused and getting shit done.
It’s a couple hours later before we’re leaving The Book Bin to have dinner with his folks. I offered to let them eat together and hang out with them later but Justin asked me to stay. He’s the one who needs a buffer with his parents this time.
Watching them talk to each other, really, openly talk, about things that have upset and hurt Justin for years is cathartic for me. I can only guess how therapeutic it must be for him. But it also makes me sad, and miss my family.
I feel like that means it might be time to go make amends.
CHAPTER30
Justin
What a fucking day. My arm hurts from signing all the books, but the bookstore has never been more popular, and Frieda promised to bake cookies for me. Not oatmeal raisin, either, real cookies, with chocolate. Maybe even monster cookies with various kinds of chocolate.
I told her while she didn’t need to bake for me, I definitely wouldn’t say no to cookies. And neither would my hockey brothers. They’re bottomless pits when it comes to homemade treats.
Savannah is in the bathroom brushing her teeth, and I’m tucked up in her bed waiting for cuddles. I’m emotionally drained, physically exhausted, and mentally worn down. Mom and Dad are in a local hotel, and they’re staying for another day. I’m so glad they made the trip and we talked things out, but today was definitely a lot.
“You okay?” Vannah leans against the doorframe. Her bathroom is bigger than my entire room in the hockey house. I’m so glad Athena managed to convince her to move into the apartment with her. Though reports vary on how the end goal was accomplished, Athena says Vannah moved in, while Savannah insists she’s being held hostage in the luxury penthouse. She doesn’t seem mad about it, though. I wouldn’t either, Athena has fantastic views of the city, and I’d kill my own dad for a TV that big. Okay, I wouldn’t, but I’d maybe think about it.
Concern swims in her eyes as she makes her way toward the bed. She’s wearing a UCR Raccoons tee that comes down to her thighs which has my dick praying it can finally slip inside her again tonight.
Due to a longer recovery than expected from her surgery, it has been weeks. Weeks. Weeks that have felt like months. Ugh. Generally speaking, I’m not a horn dog, and I have nothing but respect for my girl. I do. But as I drag my gaze up her toned thighs, roving over the curves of her hips and her beaded nipples pressing into the shirt, my self-restraint is wavering.
I’m glad the blanket is covering my pulsing hard on leaking pre-cum into my PJ shorts.
As though she senses what I’m thinking, her lips curve into a smile. “I asked if you’re okay.” She plants her hands on her hips as she stands just out of arm’s reach.
I scrub my jaw before tucking a hand behind my head. “I think so. It was a long day, and talking through things with my parents has left me kind of raw. And tired.”
“Too tired?” She waggles her eyebrows. I’m living for her lack of subtlety right now. I love that she feels she can be her honest self with me, that she feels safe to just tell me how it is.
