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After pulling out some leftover salad and spying a dinner plate he’d left for me in the fridge, I shoveled food down until I’d cleaned the bowl and plate of every morsel. The house was too quiet without Mikey there. I changed into pajama pants and wandered into the movie room to watch SportsCenter. When I’d caught up on all the news and was in the process of trying to decide whether I wanted to watch an action movie or put on one of Mikey’s cooking shows, the man himself appeared and walked right over to climb on top of me.

“Hey,” he mumbled into my chest.

He smelled faintly of the garlic bread he always made to go along with chicken parm. He’d most likely cleaned the kitchen after stashing the meals in his car so I wouldn’t smell the delicious food he’d made and get envious. I’d enjoyed the salmon, sweet potato, and asparagus he’d left me, but I would have much rather dug into the hearty Italian food. One day I’d get to enjoy his food without having to worry so much about my performance, but that day was not today, especially in the run-up to the playoffs.

I wrapped my arms around him and held on tightly. “Hey. Thanks for leaving me dinner. I was starved when I came in.”

He lifted his head up and frowned at me. “Of course I left dinner for you. It’s my job.”

My stomach dropped like a rock at the reminder of our tenuous working relationship. I didn’t want him to cook for me because he was getting paid, and I often forgot he was getting paid since he was the one who did the paying. Mikey handled all of my bills, including his own payroll. It meant it had been easy for me to stop thinking of him as my employee. The reminder didn’t sit easy on my gut.

I scraped my top lip with my bottom teeth. “Well, thanks. It was really good. How was your mom? Did you see her when you dropped off at the Niberts’?”

He shook his head and smiled. “No. Mrs. Nibert insisted on besting me in, like, ten games of backgammon while catching me up on all the drama from Bible study which included, but was not limited to, several people coveting their neighbors’ wives. At one point I thought I heard Mr. Nibert walk by muttering something about Proverbs 21:9, so I might have to dust off my Christianity and look that one up. Suffice to say, by the time I got out of there, I didn’t have the mental fortitude to visit my parents, despite their repeated attempts to get me to stop by.”

I leaned in and kissed his lips, taking my time to refamiliarize myself with the taste and feel of him. The conversation ahead of us wasn’t going to be nearly as easy and enjoyable as this.

When the kiss turned heated and Mikey’s hips started pressing into my lower belly, I pulled away. “I need to talk to you,” I said, before I could convince myself sex would be way, way better than discussing his dad.

His forehead creased in concern. “That sounds ominous.”

I shifted us up so we could talk face-to-face instead of in a tempting snuggle. I decided to throw out the bad news quickly before I had a chance to talk myself out of it. “Your dad knows about us.”

Mikey blinked at me. “That’s not possible.”

I saw his face drain of color as my words sank in. “I’m sorry,” I offered. “It’s my fault. When I grabbed a Riggers shirt out of your room this morning, I didn’t realize it was anything other than one of the many team shirts we have.”

“Warren’s retirement,” he muttered, putting the pieces together. “He was Dad’s mentor. Fuck. But, wait… that doesn’t mean anything. Why would that mean anything? I do your laundry.”

I ran a finger along a rip in his jeans without looking up at him. “I tried that. It didn’t work. He asked me point-blank if I was sleeping with you.”

He slapped my hand away from his jeans and pulled his legs closer into his body. “And you denied it. Right?” His voice sounded frantic, almost manic. “Tell me you denied it. Please.”

His reaction surprised me. “Of course I didn’t deny it. I’m not going to lie to my boss’s face. But I didn’t confirm it either. I told him he was crossing a line.”

Mikey’s laugh was humorless. “I’m not sure he gives a shit about crossing lines.”

“No,” I agreed. “He definitely didn’t appreciate that.” His brown eyes flashed with worry. I wished like hell I could reassure him, but I couldn’t.

“What happened next?”

I swallowed around the lump of nerves in my throat. “I told him I had feelings for you.”

The silence that followed wasn’t reassuring. My heart began to thud dully in my chest. Say something, I urged silently.

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