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“Did Quentin start selling tickets to the parties?” I asked, surprised at the revelation.
“No,” Merry said, shaking her head with a bemused smile. “But it’s gotten so popular people just figured they had to buy tickets to go. They think it’s some kind of VIP experience.”
“Is that something you and Quentin are thinking about doing?” I asked, grateful for the conversation that finally managed to distract me at least enough to keep me talking.
“I don’t want to do that. The whole point of having the tailgate parties was to give the fans something fun to do that enhanced the races but didn’t cost a ton of money. It was just supposed to be fun and get people together and talking about the team. There’s already a ton of merchandise and food and everything for them to buy. I don’t want to get greedy and start charging for tickets. It should stay something accessible to everybody,” she said.
“I agree,” I told her.
“Speaking of merchandise, those shirts I was telling you about came in today,” she said.
“Really? How do they look?” I asked.
“Fantastic,” she told me, reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone. “Look.”
She showed me a picture of the shirts she’d designed. The front featured a graphic of me riding my bike, and the back had my name across the shoulders along with a list of the season’s races.
“That looks great,” I told her.
“Here’s Greg’s,” she said, swiping to the next picture, which showed a similar shirt designed for the other rider on the team.
“Did you show him?”
“Yep. He’s excited about it. Well, as excited as Greg gets.” She put her phone away. “So, you’re still up for signing a few of them before the race?”
“Sure. If anybody wants me to.”
She laughed. “They’ll want you to. Trust me.”
The rest of the night wasn’t too bad. I was glad Merry came to sit with me, and I enjoyed my chat with her. I’d liked her from the very beginning. When she first started working at the complex, she and Quentin didn’t get along very well. There were times when I was even concerned she would end up quitting because of the conflict between the two of them. It turned out they were both insanely attracted to each other, and neither of them could stand it. I still appreciated her friendship, and it was good to see her and my brother together. They were disgustingly in love, which was nice. Quentin wasn’t exactly the type any of us saw actually finding somebody and settling down at any point. He didn’t have the greatest track record with women, most often finding ones who were only interested in his money and the power and influence they thought they could get by hooking up with him.
But Merry was different. She actually adored him just for who he was, which was a feat in itself sometimes.
When I finally got home that night, the feelings of anger and frustration were creeping back. I couldn’t get Kelly out of my mind, wondering what she was doing and if she was still out. A shower didn’t calm me down. If anything, it only made me think about her more. I wished she was in there with me so I could watch the water pour down over her body and soap her up. Getting out of the shower, I crashed into bed and tried to will myself to sleep.
It didn’t work. Half an hour later, I was still tossing around filled with tension. I knew I shouldn’t, and there was still so much anger in me, but I couldn’t get my mind to stop spinning, so I reached under the covers and wrapped my hand around my cock. It was hard from thinking about her, and I let my memories of our night together fuel me to stroke until I finally exploded. The climax took away the tension, and I was finally able to relax.
16
Kelly
I poured my second cup of coffee into my mouth with one hand while I used the other to help Willa eat a bowl of fruit and oatmeal. Usually my mornings were more leisurely because I forced myself to get up with plenty of time so I could feel put together on my way to work. But that was when she slept through my getting-ready routine. This morning, for some reason, her eyes popped open when I peeked into her room like I did every other day. I tried to soothe her, to quiet her down and get her to go back to sleep, but my baby was wide-awake and wanted to get up and start her day with me.
Negotiating getting myself ready for work and taking care of my two-year-old really shouldn’t have been that much of a challenge. After all, before we’d moved here, Willa and I got up together just about every day. We always started our days together and it never seemed like a big deal balancing getting her dressed and feeding her breakfast with getting myself dressed and presentable for the day. Yet somehow that morning I couldn’t get it together. I loved seeing my little girl first thing in the morning, and nothing was better than the sloppy baby kiss she pressed to my mouth when I scooped her up out of her bed and hugged her close. But not following my routine had completely thrown me off.
