The regular season is almost over, and with a win last night, the Tridents won their division, securing their spot in the playoffs.
Gianni and I are throwing a celebratory dinner tonight at the restaurant. We’ve shut the entire place down, set up both inside and on the rooftop patio, and prepared a special menu.
Of course, spaghetti carbonara is on it.
I spent all day yesterday — until I had to be at the stadium for the game — preparing food with Gianni. This morning I was there bright and early to get started on the bread and pasta dough. I left to come home and change, leaving Gianni in charge of the rest of the menu. But I stink of garlic and onions. Not normally a bad thing, but something I’d really rather eliminate before hosting the entire team and their significant others.
I set the coffee cup on the dresser that now holds both my and Kai’s clothing and make my way to the bathroom.
We wasted no time after returning from that fateful away series where I told him I was staying in Vancouver and moved my stuff into his apartment right away. The next day, I called Maria, who agreed to pack up and ship the rest of my clothes and belongings.
That was the easy call. One of the hard ones was to Vito, my former boss, telling him I wouldn’t be returning. The hardest of all was to my dad. Despite his obviously disappointed feelings about his daughter deciding not to come back, he was cool about it. Although, he did insist on a video call with Kai immediately. When that happened, Dad had his hair slicked back and was wearing a pinstripe suit. I burst out laughing while Kai looked at me with horror.
Yes, my dad knew all about twenty-year-old Kai’s fear that he was a part of the Italian mob. He assumed we were just friends back then but learned the truth when my decision to stay resulted in me crying in my room over losing Kai, instead of celebrating the monumental decision.
Once they started talking, they didn’t stop. And after half an hour of feeling completely left out of the conversation, I got up and went to the kitchen to start making some lunch. I’m fairly certain they talked for over an hour that first day, and still text regularly. Dad is even planning a trip to Canada next year to watch Kai play.
“Seriously, Yamaki, hurry your ass up. I have to be at the restaurant in less than half an hour.”
He wipes away the steam. “You could always join me, save water, save time.”
I scoff. “If I get in there with you, I’ll be even later.”
“I promise to keep my hands to myself.”
I debate whether I can trust that or not. In the end, I decide I’m in too much of a hurry. I strip quickly, twist my hair up in a bun since, thankfully, it doesn’t need to be washed, and open the door, stepping in and using my hip to try and push him out of the way. He goes to the other end of the shower, snagging the bar of soap he likes to use on the way. I turn my back to him and wash my face before reaching for my body wash.
That’s when lips land on the base of my neck.
“Kai,” I say warningly. “You promised.” Shivers run up my spine despite the hot water.
“I promised to keep my hands to myself. I said nothing about other body parts.”
One other body part in particular makes contact with my lower back.
“That’s not fair,” I say, moving to turn around. But I’m stopped when he cages me in, placing his hands — not on me — but on the wall in front of me.
“Oops.” He kisses his way down my back, all the way to the curve of my ass. Which he bites.
“Kai!” I shriek, this time managing to spin around, intent on giving him shit for that. I realize my mistake the second I look down and see his proud smirk.
“See? No hands.” The second his mouth lands on my clit, I’m a goner. And I have no choice but to accept the inevitable truth. I will not be at the restaurant on time.
Much to my surprise, and a tiny bit of disappointment, Kai is good to his word and doesn’t touch me with his hands. Instead, thanks to his wickedly talented tongue, he managed to bring me to orgasm within minutes before standing up, kissing my lips, and then leaving me panting and needy in the shower.
I had to wrestle with myself not to call him back in here to continue what he started, but I really want tonight to go well. So I manage to finish my own shower, throw on the outfit I preselected, and hurry out the door, only about ten minutes later than planned.
When I get to the restaurant, the staff are hustling, getting everything set up. Willow is also there and comes over to give me a quick hug.
“Girl, this is going to be amazing. Thanks again for hosting.” She turns to the side, where another woman is waiting. “This is Melody, from our events team. She’s who we have to thank for the decorations.”
I put my hand out to the woman. “Hey Melody, nice to meet you. I’m glad we could make this work. Do you two need anything, or” — I gesture to the kitchen — “I probably should get in there and make sure my partner hasn’t gone rogue with the menu.”
“We’re all good.” Melody flashes me a thumbs-up, and Willow squeezes my arm one more time before I hurry into the kitchen.
“Hi G, sorry I’m late,” I call out over the noise of all the kitchen staff hard at work. Gianni looks up from the counter where he’s chopping vegetables and raises his eyebrows.
“As long as you have a good reason for being late, you’re forgiven.”
