Lainey’s List Chapter Twenty-Eight

Nick

I know she’s gone before I open my eyes, before I stretch and feel the cool, empty space beside me. I tell myself it’s for the best. No tearful goodbyes. No pleas for me to stay one more minute when I’m itching to go.

Granted, Lainey’s never cried in my presence or begged me for anything outside of the moments I’ve been between her legs, and I don’t think that counts for much. But it’s good to tell myself these small lies so my ego doesn’t shrink into a tiny raisin. Big game players need a big attitude. It’s why Deon Sanders dubbed himself Prime Time.

I have no such nickname for myself. I unclench my fingers from the sheets and force myself out of bed.

My clothes are folded nicely and lie on the chair near the window. The pillows I threw off the bed are stacked neatly on the sofa. Other than the sheets that are barely hanging on to the bed and my sore dick, one would think I passed out by myself.

I give said dick a fondle. “No morning sex for you, buddy.”

Said dick doesn’t deflate. It’s dumb. It thinks Lainey’s hiding in the bathroom, wet and hot and ready. I know better but it doesn’t stop the rush of disappointment when I open the door to the en suite and find it empty—like the bed.

“Definitely no sex for you.” I squint at the mirror until the fog of sleep completely clears off. The image that greets me brings a broad grin to my face.

She might not be here but she sure as hell left a mark. There are nail gouges in the tops of my shoulders. Red scratches run down my chest, my arms, and—I swivel my torso—yep, my back too. Right above my heart is a big ol’ bruise where she must have sucked for an hour while I was pounding into her missionary style.

I didn’t go easy on her last night so I suspect there are nice marks on her ass. I spanked it good a few times. It would’ve been nice to see my handiwork this morning. My dick jumps in agreement.

I stare down at it. “You’ve got left hand or right hand this morning.”

No response. I reach into the shower, flick the water on, and then step under the spray without even waiting for the water to warm up. I need a cold shower because rubbing one out by myself after last night feels like a sacrilege.

As I soap up, I run through a litany of excuses for her. She had to pick up Cassidy. She’s got church this morning. Her car needed gas. I settle on the Cassidy one because it’s most likely and most palatable.

After the shower, I pick up the phone and give her a ring. It goes immediately to voicemail.

Babe. I had a wakeup call scheduled for you. You missed it but don’t worry, I can do a home delivery of the service. Let me know what time.

She doesn’t call me back. Which, fine, she’s busy. She’s a mom. She’s got Cassidy to think about. I’ve got myself.

After I dress, I run a few errands before going back to the condo. Charlie’s on the sofa, looking at her phone and sniffling.

My heart stops. “Jesus, is it Nate?” I croak out.

She looks up at me with tear-stained eyes. “It’s Lainey. She left today and didn’t even say goodbye in person. She sent me a text!” Charlie waves her phone at me.

Oh, right. The blood starts pumping again. “She’s just moving a few hours away. You’ll still be able to see her.”

“Why are you so unconcerned about this? I thought you cared about her?” Charlie gets a mean look in her eye.

I shift uncomfortably. “I do care about her and Cassidy, but it’s not like we won’t see them,” I hesitate and figure it’s best not to admit to Charlie that I’m kind of glad they’re leaving because Lainey’s such a big distraction and I need all of my focus to be on the game. “I figure they can come up on weekends, see the game. We can catch some grub afterward.”

Charlie jumps up with a mangled sound and throws a pillow at my head.

“What? What did I do?” I ask in honest bewilderment.

“You’re probably the reason she moved away,” Charlie yells.

Me? We banged like animals last night. I don’t share that with Charlie, but still. How is this remotely my fault? “How do you figure?”

“Ugh. You’re so dense. I hate men.” She stomps to her room and slams her door shut, leaving me clutching the stupid pillow.

Sheesh. It must be Nate. He must’ve done something to piss her off and she’s just projecting that on me. I throw the pillow back on the sofa. My stomach grumbles reminding me that one of the things I haven’t done today is eat.

Before I can make it to the kitchen, there’s a pounding at the door. I peek through the peephole and then pull open the door to greet Reese. “Dude, this isn’t a good time for you. Charlie just said she hated men.”

“I’m gay. She hates hetero men. They get on my nerves too. Hence the reason I’m gay,” he muscles past me and waltzes down to Charlie’s door. “I heard from Lainey,” he calls through it.

The door opens and Reese gets dragged inside, but not before Charlie sticks her head out and glares at me.

The door slams shut again. I rake my fingers through my hair, trying to figure out what just happened and then, when my stomach growls again, I say fuck it. It’s a girl thing. Reese is here and he can coddle Charlie while I feed myself.

Today is my only free day and I’m not going to spend it worrying about fake problems. An hour later, Charlie and Reese still have not exited her bedroom and I’m bored as hell.

Today is my day off. I thought for sure I’d be doing something other than sitting on my ass watching the football analysts argue about who is spending more time after practice on improving their game. There’re actual bar graphs and pie charts and pictures. And my face isn’t on one of them.

Does it suck that Lainey and Cass are moving away? Sure. But it wasn’t like I was going to have time for them anyway. I grab my phone and place a quick call.

“Plant, want to practice some routes.”

“You watching the NFL channel, too, huh?”

“Yeah. Apparently, we’re being lazy asses by only staying an hour after practice.”

“Had the same thought. All right. It’s not like we got family and the chicks will wait for us, right?”

“Right. So meet you there in thirty?”

“I’ll be there.”

I slap the phone on the couch. I’m making the right decision. Right now, it’s football over everything else. It’s the way it has to be.

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