“Hi, baby.” Miller brushes his hair from his face before running her hand over the length of his back, soothing him.
She settles her head onto my open palm against the pillow, her eyes lifting to mine. “Is this okay?”
Typically, I hate someone else getting these moments, even the tough ones, but with Miller there’s no envy. It feels right that she’s here.
My words are desperate, but hopeful. “Please stay.”
She nods against me, gently stroking Max’s back and softly kissing his head until his little cry dissolves and he falls back to sleep.
I have no idea what she was worried about earlier, but it’s obvious to me that this wild woman is my son’s calm. And in a lot of ways, I think I might be hers.
Scooping my hand, I pull her in with my son sandwiched between our bodies, tangling my leg with hers, and draping my other arm over her waist in hopes to keep her close.
I liked seeing Miller jealous tonight, but she doesn’t need to be. I know this picture, the three of us, will dissolve as soon as she leaves, but for now, I plan to steal every second while pretending there’s no end date to us in sight. Because unfortunately for me, I know no one else will ever compare to how complete she makes both me and my son feel.
Chapter 30
Miller
We’ve been back in Chicago for a couple of days, and I’ve been working hard in the kitchen. The photographer for the shoot comes at the end of this week, which means my return to work is just around the corner.
Tonight, I have the house to myself. Kai, Max, and my dad are all at team dinner. I’m used to being by myself—having empty hotel rooms or house rentals whenever I’m on the road—but I hadn’t realized how lonely I was until I got to Chicago. Until Max and Kai.
Mixing bowls, dry ingredients and baking sheets all line the countertop in Kai’s kitchen as I try to work in this rarely quiet space.
I remember exactly what it feels like to have a chef breathing down my neck while I’m trying to create, or what it sounds like to be yelled at in front of my peers because one of my sauces didn’t meld to the right consistency. As I’ve grown in my career, I’ve become my own motivation. Providing my own internal voice to push me when I’m messing up.
But looking around Kai’s kitchen, I don’t care about those voices. I don’t want to hear any of them. I don’t want to hear the clatter of pans or the communication among the line staff. I don’t want to feel the heat from the stove’s flame or the pressure of a head chef looking for his next order.
I only want to hear Max’s incoherent words and Kai’s soothing timbre telling me I’m doing a good job, two things I won’t have when I leave this place.
Turning the flame off on the stove, I remove the half-melted chocolate. I untie my apron, throw my dish towel onto the counter. What a waste of my night. This is all I’ll be doing once I get back to my busy life, and I have no desire to do it now.
Kai invited me to team dinner and I turned him down because I decided to work, but if I can be completely honest with myself, I don’t give a fuck about work. I only have them for a few more days, so what the hell am I doing here alone?
As I pull my phone out to call him, wanting to know where he’s at so I can join, a text comes through.
Unknown: Hi! This is Indy. Kai’s friend. This might sound strange, but I want to get drunk tonight, and my best friend can’t support me in this because she’s pregnant. So, would you want to come over and have a drink with me?
Indy—the blonde ray of sunshine who hosted Kai’s family dinner. Meeting up with Kai and his teammates sounds nice but I like the idea of having a girls’ night even more. I’ve never been a part of one of those.
I’ve only made one girlfriend this summer, but she’s so busy that I rarely see her when we’re on the road.
But like me, Kennedy isn’t used to being around a lot of girls so maybe she’d want to join too, and more than anything, I need to talk through the bullshit going on in my head.
Me: Count me in. Any chance I could invite one more drinking buddy?
Unknown: The more the merrier! See you soon!
“We’re going to do it right out there.” Indy points towards the backdoor slider, leading to her backyard. “It’ll be small. Around fifty people. Perfect for us.”
I’m surprised fifty people is enough for them. Her fiancé, Ryan, is a well-known basketball player and she’s a social butterfly. It’s fairly obvious judging by how welcoming she’s been to me, someone she’s only met once, and to Kennedy, someone she hadn’t met until tonight.