Page 195 of Made Better Together

“Thank you, Sir.” I take a third sip as he steps into the bathroom.

He reemerges with my brush in his hand, and climbs into the bed. “Come sit with your back to me.”

I move over so I’m as he asked, and then I feel him gently glide the brush through my hair. When he reaches the bottom, he pauses. “Feel good?”

It’s the first time he’s done this, and it’s soothing. “Yes, Sir.”

“I’ll do it more, then.” He starts stroking through my hair again. “I never told you this, but your hair reminds me of honey.”

“Oh?” My brain has shut down enough that I can’t fully process what he means.

His voice softens. “Never mind. We’ll talk about it another time.”

I sip the pink drink, the hydration and vitamins slowly restoring my energy. After a couple of minutes, he pulls the brush away and puts some of the cream in his palms, before starting to massage my shoulders. “I thought the lotion would be a step up from the time in the hot tub.”

His hands work their way up to my neck and scalp once he’s satisfied with my shoulders. When he’s done ten minutes later, he kisses the base of my neck. “Scene over?”

I’m so relaxed; this might be the best aftercare yet. “Yes.” We slide down so we’re both prone on the bed, and I rest my head on the top of his chest.

“That scene was incredible. How did you even think of that idea?” I ask him.

“You’re not the only one with a big brain.”

I give him a kiss on the shoulder. “No, I’m clearly not.”

“To be honest, spending the countdown with you was better than a big party with a ton of other people.”

I grab his hand, rubbing my thumb over the top. “You know what they say…how you spend New Year’s determines the rest of your year.”

“Well, thank fuck for that.”

55

CONNOR

The next two days fly by, as Eden and I play house. I don’t have practice, since the Waves are on the road, and she’s content to relax, for once. New Year’s Day is quiet. Well, except for when I have her blindfolded, tied to the four posts of the bed, and we play again with her present.

She’s not quiet, then.

The night after is the Waves game, and we make the drive to Grace’s house after a leisurely day. Avery and Rori are there, too, and we all lock in for the first half.

A fast touchdown between Johnson and Bailey, the Waves’ other star wide receiver, is followed by a kickoff return for another six points two possessions later. By the time half-time hits, the Waves are leading 17–3.

“I’m going to make us some popcorn,” I say to Grace a few minutes after the third quarter opens with another touchdown. Up 24–3, almost certainly getting that bye week, I feel comfortable stepping away.

“Yum,” Avery says. “I could eat some too.”

“Alright, on it.”

“Can you bring me a seltzer?” my sister asks.

“Me as well?” Rori requests.

Jesus. I’ll need a notepad soon if I stay here taking requests. “Be right back.”

Like everything else in Johnson and Grace’s house, the kitchen is absurdly large. There are about five times the number of cabinets as my apartment. Eventually I find the popcorn and get it going.

While it’s heating up, I grab seltzers for all four of the women, just in case.