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Twenty Three
A few dayspass as I wait for dinner with Holland and Juliet. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it since they invited me. While I’ve been friends with Ty my entire life, and welcomed Kyle with open arms, whenever they got together, it’s still nice to spend time with two women who are also moms and in relationships with professional hockey players. Lots of common ground… and I’m sure they have advice that I desperately need when it comes to the man who turns my insides into a molten gooey mess when he’s around.
I’m just finishing curling my hair when I see Briggs in the mirror. He walks in and slides his hands around my waist then pulls me against his hard body. Moving my hair to the side, off my neck, he plants a wet, hot kiss against the sensitive skin of my shoulder, where it meets my neck. A spot that he knows sets me on fire, only for him.
“How about we cancel girls and guys’ day, and we stay home? Just me, you, and Olive?”
I roll my eyes before shaking my head no. “No can do, sorry love. I promised Holland and Juliet. Plus, I think Graham will be seriously disappointed if he doesn’t get to hang out with Olive. He loves her.”
I set the curling iron down on the counter, so I don’t burn myself or Briggs, then run my fingers through the still warm curls, making sure they’re more beach wavy instead of tight curled.
Briggs groans and drops his head onto my shoulder. “I can’t wait for alone time with you. I love my baby, so fucking much, but I also want to devour you on every damn surface of my house.”
Speaking of… we’ve been discussing Olive and I moving into his house, again. As much as I want to, the logical part of me says it’s too fast and that we haven’t explored our relationship enough or that we don’t know each other well enough for such a giant step.
Briggs promptly reminded me that we’ve basically done everything ass backwards, and this wouldn’t be any different.
My lease here is up at the end of the month, so the decision is weighing heavily on me.
I want to be with Briggs, in his space, together with Olive. And the fact that his house is ten times the size of my apartment and completely free of upstairs neighbors who like to have sex like obnoxious porn stars, and a shower that works without having to break out the tools in order to get it to turn on.
I’m just… I have to be honest with him, soon. I can’t continue to hold this secret, knowing it will destroy us as the seconds tick by. I keep telling myself that I’ll find the right time, and that I’ll stop being a coward, but is there such a thing as perfect timing? A right time to break the heart of the man you are falling in love with?
“Guys are here, babe.” He turns me toward him, sliding his hands along my jaw, and kisses me so sweetly that a part of me simply withers away at the gentleness of his lips. Then his hands are gone and I already miss the loss of them. He walks out the bathroom door and then turns around at the last second, his hair falling in his eyes. I can see confusion written on his face.
“Where’s that thing that you strap on you? For Olive?”
It takes me a minute to figure out what he’s talking about.
“The BabyBjörn?”
He nods. “The baby carrier thing, so I can wear her.”
Part of me actually melts onto the floor at the thought of Briggs wearing our child. This surly, tall, sexy man proudly wearing his baby girl makes my ovaries a bit too excited.
"Why are you looking at me like that?” His brow furrows.
“Just thinking maybe we should have another baby,” I squeak jokingly, until his eyes darken with desire.
“Tell me when, and I’ll gladly put another baby in your belly, Maddison,” he rasps.
“Oh god, please leave. I can’t do this right now. Hall closet, at the top. Bye.”
He smirks. “Bye baby.” And is out the door, leaving me debating if I have lost my mind entirely and if every bit of it is due to Briggs.
The place Holland chose is one that I've been dying to go to since it opened, but it is next to impossible to get reservations to unless you know someone… influential. Which, I guess when you’re married to one of the best hockey players in the city, actually the country, you have the ability to make it happen.
Joy Lounge is a lounge in downtown Chicago that has a rooftop bar with some of the best views of the city, and she couldn't have picked a comfier, more relaxed atmosphere for our girls’ night.
“I can’t believe you got us a table here,” I all but squeal as we walk through the entrance.
Her face lights up. “I’ve been dying to go since it opened, and when I told Reed about our girls’ night, he was able to call in a favor with his friend Roddy, apparently he and his sister own it!”
“Wow,” Juliet stammers. She’s wearing a fitted black cocktail dress and heels that make her calves look amazing. Holland went with a pantsuit and top that ties at the waist, hanging off the shoulder and a bold eye look.
They both look amazing, and suddenly I feel a bit underdressed in the pencil skirt and plain top I went with.
“You both look amazing,” I tell them. We’re waiting at the hostess stand for our table, and Holland looks down at her outfit.
