suspicious glance.
“It’s for Buster’s sake, not for mine,” I say innocently. “You’re better equipped to do that kind of stuff.”
She scratches her chin and nods. “Once he’s doing fine you won’t have an excuse.”
“I’ll find one.” I wink at her.
Who knew that having a steady, monogamous relationship with a hot woman was not so bad? It’s the first week of December when I realize that if Leyla and I were a couple, we would be celebrating our three-month anniversary. We’re not. The friends with benefits deal we have suits us better.
Leyla is fun to be around. Clearly, she likes me enough since she’s okay with hanging out with me daily. We have a routine. On weekdays, she drops by my apartment around noon to walk Buster. Some days I meet her so we can have lunch and sex. Of everything we do together, that’s my favorite thing.
We spend every night together—except for Wednesdays and Fridays when she has the hospital’s graveyard shift. I visit her at midnight, just to say goodnight. Plus, doing it in the janitor’s closet of an animal hospital is kind of hot. That woman is a vixen, and fuck if I don’t spend more time thinking about where we will fuck next than working.
I keep telling myself it’s just a short-term thing, and once we grow tired of each other, we will be calling it quits. I’m also finding new ways to keep her interested because I’m not ready to let her go.
Another favorite thing to do with her is going to the stables where she boards her horse, Poppy. I’m tempted to buy a house with a barn so we can have our horses together. I haven’t visited Alistair, my stallion, in months because that implies visiting my grandmother, who reminds me that I’m getting old and haven’t settled down.
She hopes that one of her grandchildren will marry and have babies before she dies.
During weekends we not only have sex, but we also go out to concerts, bars, or, like tonight, to watch a live hockey game.
“So, you’re a huge hockey fan?” she asks as we approach the seats.
“Not necessarily,” I answer casually.
She rolls her eyes, “So, you have season front row seat tickets just for kicks?”
She turns to the penalty box that’s right next to us and then to me. “It’s the perfect place to yell at the idiot that ends up there. I always say if you’re going to do something stupid, at least don’t get caught.”
I chuckle and give her one of the beers we bought upstairs. She carries my hot dog and her donuts. None of the food from upstairs was enticing enough for her. Knowing her, she’s going to make a salad when we get home and have a piece of cheesecake.
Once the game starts, I realize that Leyla isn’t here just because it sounded interesting. She is a fan.
“You like hockey,” I point out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugs and continues yelling at the players. She yells at them by their nicknames, cheers when they do something right, and cusses at them when the Vancouver Orcas score a goal. So far, the Avalanche are losing by two points until one of the defensemen misses the puck, and we score. Leyla cheers. Not me.
“You fucking idiot,” I yell, banging the glass. “You are so fucking useless, Aldridge. Even I could’ve gotten that.”
Leyla turns to look at me, narrows her gaze, and then looks back at the player I’m yelling at. Then, she asks, “Are you related to Mills Aldridge?”
I shrug and don’t answer. Because I never talk about my brothers. It’s too fucking complicated. In plain view, I’m an only child. But then there’s the mess my father made. I have six brothers. I’m number three of the seven. That guy who I’m yelling at is number four. He’s actually Canadian. Daddy was a womanizing asshole who cheated on his wife and had five more children out of wedlock.
My mom was his second mistress. I don’t get along with my brothers. I haven’t seen them since one of my younger brothers, Carter, died.
Now, that kid was cool.
I’m not sure if the rest get along, but I stay away from them. I love hockey, and I watch most of Mills’s games. When he comes to Denver, I am always here, giving him shit.
The baby of the family is the frontman of the band Too Far from Grace. When he performs in town, I go and check him out. I don’t