The Bromance Book Club - Lyssa Kay Adams Page 0,15

with all the big-sister responsibilities.

Thea crept back out of the room and shut the door. With a soft snap, she called Butter to follow. She changed quickly into a nightgown and then went into the bathroom to do the nightly face-teeth-hair thing. On the way back to the bed, she stopped at Gavin’s dresser. A tug of regret pulled her heart from its normal rhythm. He’d left almost everything here—most of his clothes and shoes, his collection of baseball caps. On the top of the dresser was a small dish full of the myriad things that he’d emptied from his pockets—loose change and gas receipts and a pack of orange Tic Tacs.

Thea brushed her fingers over the container. She could almost taste them, the hint of them ever-present on his breath when he’d brush his lips perfunctorily over hers before leaving for yet another road trip with the team.

So unlike the kiss he’d dropped on her today.

Thea picked up the Tic Tacs and threw them in the trash. Then she flipped off the light and slid into bed. Butter jumped up, circled several times, and then plopped down on Gavin’s side.

Except it wasn’t Gavin’s side anymore. He’d left. And no amount of begging and apologizing on his part could change that now. Because, really, who the hell did he think he was? He didn’t get to march in here and kiss her like that after all this time. As if she’d just melt and forget everything that happened.

Which, okay, she did for a brief moment. It just had been so long since he’d kissed her like that—like he used to kiss her, back before she got pregnant, when they were falling in love like maniacs. Back then, she would never have believed that the man who could barely stand to go a single day without tearing her clothes off would morph into a man who was almost apologetic when he reached for her at night. Who began to reach for her less and less. Who didn’t even pay enough attention to her needs to notice that she was left frustrated time and again.

Until that night, that is. The night of the Big O-No.

Thea threw an arm over her eyes and squeezed them shut to block the memories, but like an annoying song that had wormed its way into her brain, the memory wouldn’t leave her alone.

They hadn’t had sex in two months at that point and were barely speaking, other than the daily necessities of dealing with the kids and the house and his game schedule. She didn’t want to go to the game, but even in her newly woke who-the-hell-have-I-become state, Thea wasn’t that petty. She couldn’t miss a playoff game. Not with so much on the line. So like a good little WAG, she donned his jersey, posed for photos, sat in the family section, and pasted on her wholesomely pastel smile.

And then came the ninth inning. Bases loaded. Two outs. And Gavin was at the plate. He needed to hit just a single to bring in the tying run. A double would mean the win. It was the most important moment of Gavin’s career, and for the first time in a long time, it felt important to her too. She didn’t have time to explore why, because the minute he swung the bat, she began to sob. Thea knew just from the sound of the bat that he’d done it. He’d nailed a home run. And not just any home run. A walk-off grand slam.

Tears fell down her face as she watched her husband race around the bases, his arms in the air. His teammates waited for him at home plate in a screaming, celebratory melee. The crowd chanted his name. Del drenched him in Gatorade. The announcers called it a Hollywood finish. It was the kind of moment every player dreams of their entire lives but few ever get. And she got caught up in it as much as anyone else. She drank the champagne in the clubhouse. Let him lift her off the ground and kiss her.

By the time they got home, they were just like they used to be. Manic. Crazed for each other. They barely made it to their bedroom before ripping at each other’s clothes. And Gavin, oh Gavin . . . he devoured her like he used to.

There was a fierceness in his touch she hadn’t felt in so long. An urgency that excited her, thrilled her. And she returned the