Play With Me - Brittany Cournoyer Page 0,46

once I arrived home, and I prayed for the next few hours to go by quickly.

“Have a nice break?” Mina asked when I returned to the bar.

“It was okay,” I hedged.

“Uh-huh. Ted finally poured your friend into a cab,” Mina said, changing the subject.

“Oh, that’s good. I almost feel bad for him.”

“And that’s why you’re a good egg, Foster. From your reaction and his few coherent words I heard, I can guess he treated you badly in school. Yet your heart is tender, and you still feel empathy toward him.”

I shrugged. “It was a long time ago. Life’s too short to hold a grudge.”

“Those are some wise words, my friend. Stellan’s a lucky man.”

“Maybe it’s me who’s the lucky one.”

Mina cocked her head to the side. “Different sides of the same coin. Either way, it’s a lucky one.”

“You’re right.”

And hopefully when I got home, Stellan would show me just how true those words were.

16

Stellan

Life sure had a way of throwing curveballs at me, and baseball wasn’t really my sport. Hell, I wasn’t athletic at all. And the biggest curveball of all was when I declared Foster as mine right there in Clancy’s bar, like some sort of possessive psycho. Yet, when I heard that man threatening to punch Foster in the face, the words ripped from my throat and I couldn’t hold them back. I was just grateful Foster hadn’t run away from me—like I probably would have done if the situation was reversed. Instead, his pupils expanded, his lips parted, and I could smell the pheromones emanating from his pores. The thought of me claiming him had turned him on, and I fucking loved it.

I hadn’t even planned to visit the bar that night, but after work, I was sitting at home and found myself missing him. Since he was busy, we couldn’t text, but even the quick messages wouldn’t be enough to satisfy my craving. I needed to see him, hear him, touch him. A few minutes later, I’d changed into a pair of jeans and a black, button-down shirt, and was in my car headed for Clancy’s. And since I noticed how he always put his hands in my hair, I made sure to wear it down for him.

Even though I knew we couldn’t spend much time together, it was fun to watch him work the bar and engage with customers. He was friendly but kept his flirting to a minimum, and I wondered if he did that out of respect for me. So what if I had to endure listening to the drunken guy beside me blubber on about his cheating ex? The stolen time in the break room with Foster more than made up for it, and it satisfied my craving just enough to hold me over until he got home. Now I just had to wait for Foster to clock out, and then he’d be back in my arms.

The last few hours passed slowly as I watched the TV, played my sax, and scrolled through social media. Anything to make the minutes tick by until I received the text he was home. I was too keyed up to nap, but who could sleep when they were awaiting something? It was like the night before Christmas, and I was too scared I’d miss seeing Santa if I dozed off. Only, for me, it wasn’t a fat man in a shiny red suit leaving presents under my tree. Instead, it was a wide-eyed, sandy-blond-haired man with tempting lips and a body made for me to explore. All I needed was the all-clear to go to him.

I found myself checking the clock too many times, convinced time had come to a standstill or was even going backward, but finally…fucking finally my phone vibrated. I nearly divebombed off the couch to snatch the device off the coffee table and sighed in relief when I saw it was a message from Foster telling me he was home. With delicious anticipation licking its way through my veins, I wasted no time getting to my car and heading toward Foster’s.

It would be the first time I’d see inside his place, and I was curious to see how he’d have it set up. I knew the apartments were small, but did he decorate it to make it feel like home or just keep out the bare minimum since it was a transitional type place until he was more financially stable? If the traffic lights were on my side, I’d be finding out