Love Undefeated (Unexpected #5) (19 page)

“No, but I’m sensing jealousy in your statement,” she declared, amusement clear in her voice.

“I’m not jealous that Aquaman’s hot,” I said, in all honesty. “He’s a movie star. He has to be hot or well…his career would be down the drain. Unless he’s the one Wilson brother who’s not hot, but can do comedy with a broken nose.”

“Are you talking about Owen Wilson?” I could hear her typing. The woman was a multi-tasker. She could clean the house, cook an awesome meal, take a shower, and chat with her friends in under thirty minutes. I could barely clean a bathroom in a year, so yep, hats off to all the women who did what not a lot of guys could do in a lifetime.

I clicked on the TV and scrolled through the channels, “Yeah, he’s the ugly brother.”

“Gee, why don’t you just share all your opinions about guys now? If you were on a reality show, you’d definitely be the judge that everyone would hate and tweet about.”

“Hate?” I snickered and plopped my grey Mahabis on top of the ottoman. These slippers were the shit. I could live in them. Dom and John gave me a lot of grief the last time they came to visit because I made an appointment at Bloomingdale’s to try on their new men’s slipper collection. They ended up buying two pairs each because they couldn’t get over the fact that the shearling-like lining made a world of difference on their callus-ridden soles. I’m ordering them a pair of the Gold edition for Christmas and since I was such a generous friend, a referral to their local podiatrist was also in the works. Dom’s big toe needed some help and John’s Jeez-Lou-freakin’-wheez middle toes were atrocious. I’ve read that there was a link between the brain and middle toe. No wonder John’s brain was empty, if you took a close look at his feet you’d know why.

Anyways, back to the present. “Nales, I’d be the judge who would tell the truth like it is.”

“Yeah, but you also need to be politically correct,” she answered. “Or you’d be booted off your own show.”

“Sheesh, your Bachelor obsession is showing.” I stopped on the channel that was airing the show because lookey loo, what a coincidence that today was “The Bachelor” special two hour freakshow. I only watched it because I wanted to see what America was all about. God save us from the cancer of reality shows.

She giggled on the other end. I wanted so badly to pick her up after lacrosse practice, but I got delayed by a call from the office. By the time I got ahold of her, she’d already had something to eat and told me she’d see me at home once she was done. Well, she wasn’t home by the time I freshened up so here we were, chatting on the phone on what was supposed to be date night.

“What time do you think you’ll be done?” I looked at the clock on the cable box. 11:10 PM.

“Hopefully in an hour.” A long drawn out sigh escaped her, revealing the exhaustion she’d been putting her body through. Last week she’d clocked in over sixty hours, not including the time she was on the phone at home, responding to items that needed to be taken care of in the office. This week, she was already working towards another fifteen or more than her regular working hours. I admired her work values, but it doesn’t mean I’m okay with seeing how tired she was.

“Nales, I’m picking you up now.” I stood up from the sofa, leaving comfort so I could have her home before midnight and maybe she’d get an hour more of sleep.

“I have to get this done.” Her argument was futile because I was already grabbing my keys.

“I’m leaving now. Be there in fifteen,” I replied, shaking my head at the possibility that she’d be her stubborn self.

An “okay” came out on the other side of the phone, which totally surprised me and also bothered me, because it meant that Nalee really was exhausted. A few days away, maybe over the weekend, would be good for her to recharge her diminishing batteries.

“By the way, Nales, I’m not jealous of Momoa,” I stated as the street and the late night traffic came into view.

She chortled, “You’re still on that? I thought you were on The Bachelor kick already?”

“I just want to clear the air.” I lowered the windows to let the night ocean air filter inside the car. The advantage of living by the bay was that at night, the air was cool and the scent was infused with a hint of seawater washing away the fumes from gas-powered vehicles. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to live in the desert. Just the thought of cactus made my skin prickle. Not in a good way.

Realizing what she’d said earlier, I pried, “So you think Momoa’s not hot? So this means you don’t find Correa hot then?” I lowered the lever on the steering wheel to signal a left turn.

“You wanna know what I think of Jason Momoa so you’d know what I think of your teammate who has a hot tennis player as a girlfriend?” A tone of disbelief littered her voice.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you wanna know?” she asked in a sleepy voice.

“Yes.” Of course I wanted to know. Correa was not an ugly dude. And if Nalee was comparing him to the husband of Lisa Bonet, I know all about his history because I IMDb’d him when DC Comics approved him to be the living poster for Aquaman, then you bet your mama’s buns off I’d wanna know what she thought of Conan in dreadlocks.

“Fine. Jason Momoa’s not hot, he’s gorgeous.”

The SUV in front of me braked so I followed suit, and in a huff I said, “What?”

“You asked, I answered.” Her tone was blasé.

The lights were green again so I lifted my foot off the brake and accelerated. Making one last turn before I made a full stop in front of her building, I said, “Nales, sweetheart, you’re never going to be alone with my teammate again.”

It wasn’t a threat nor a warning.

It was a fact.

“So, do you think you and Xavier can make it?” I heard Sedona’s voice through Nalee’s speaker.

I raised a brow, sending Nalee a questioning look.

I’d walked downstairs to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. I was just about to turn off the lights when I remembered that Nalee requested to try the new peach lemonade drink I’d bought this afternoon.

It was only eleven, but when you’d been working as much as we’ve had, I’d have traded a kidney to be able to go to sleep at a decent hour on a Friday night. Our working hours had been so out of sync that yesterday she let out a little yell when she saw me come through the front door.

She hadn’t seen my new haircut and it’s been two days since my barber got creative with my chops. I didn’t have a military cut or anything, but I had it trimmed short because Nalee loved it.

So when she had looked up from her computer, she’d let out an excited shriek and proceeded to show me how much she loved my haircut with her mouth running up and down my jaw, her hands softly caressing my neck, and the lovey-dovey action rapidly progressed from the living room to the bedroom.

I had missed her, so I emptied into her in less than two minutes, which would make any other woman cry, but Nalee knew what the score was, she’d let me release my pent-up frustration in somewhat less-than-satisfactory time for her because she knew I wouldn’t let her up the rest of the night. And oh, what a blessed night it was.

Four earth-shaking orgasms later, she was still showing a slight limp today because I’d positioned her legs and her body to elicit the maximum pleasure for her. Hanging your legs over someone’s shoulders while they ate you up for half an hour wasn’t exactly comfortable, but she’d say that it was all worth it.

I wanted to give her some more loving tonight, but she’d straight out refused. She’d simply stated, “You’ve broken my vagina, Xavier. Give me a week to recover.”

A week?

I’d give her another day.

So instead of marathon sex, I was rubbing lavender oil on her feet and shoulders to loosen her tight muscles. I’d tried to trick her by rubbing higher on her thighs, but she’d clamped her legs tight which meant
no go for tonight, Big X
. I was enjoying massaging her feet and every once in a while, I’d kiss her on the lips and she’d smile at me sleepily while we were trying to catch up on our DVR’d Cooking Channel shows.

Our phones were on silent because on Friday nights we turned off all of our e-mails, as well as Facebook and Twitter. Instagram was allowed because we had a joint account and we only had our closest friends on it.

Why was she talking to Sedona?

I had no issues with her talking to her BFF. Especially if it was an emergency. Sedona was in Minnesota with Z right now so that meant that it was way past midnight, which meant that something was wrong. Otherwise she wouldn’t be calling at this late hour.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to. If not, we’ll tweak our schedules so we’d make it,” Nalee said, motioning for me to come closer.

I raised my right finger to signal
Okay, hold on
as I grabbed the small bottle of peppermint by the bedside drawer. This would help with the tension headache she was having.

I handed her the iced peach lemonade and rearranged my pillows so I could snuggle close to her as I slowly rubbed some of the herbal oil on my hands and positioned myself so that I could gently massage her forehead.

After a few seconds, she sighed in gratitude.

“Thank you, Nales, for being such a great friend.” Sedona was speaking as Nalee took small sips of her drink.

When her monthly visitor arrived, Nalee would have horrible cramps. I would have cut off my left nut for her not to have those monstrous tummy pains. The only things that helped were a combination of some iced drink, preferably not chocolate because it induced inflammation, and essential oils. I wasn’t ashamed to do research on it. Nalee used to eat mountains of chocolate before her periods and they just worsened her cramps. I’d called my primary doctor who referred me to a female doctor who specialized in female parts, the masses call them OB-GYN’s, and Dr. Lailani Kiwani was more than happy to share her expertise with me. She thought I was sweet for trying to help my girlfriend. The truth was, anything that would make Nalee have less pain was worth a try.

“Goodnight. Lemme know how everything goes and don’t hesitate to call if you need anything,” Nalee spoke into the phone.

“Alright, thanks again, Nales. Say hi to Xavier for me,” Sedona said before ending the call.

When Nalee and I broke up, one of the hardest parts for me was not being able to tell our friends what exactly happened. I told the guys that we’d grown apart, a Hollywood cliché for why the relationship didn’t work. With Sedona and Tanya, I just sort of left them in the dark. I let Nalee tell them what she wanted to tell them because as much as they were my friends, they were her girlfriends first. And I knew that she would need their support. I have a feeling that Tanya would always see me as the bad guy and that was okay with me because I was. I was the one who broke Nalee’s heart. What really bugged me was that during our break, I couldn’t even look the ladies in the eye because every time I saw them, I felt like I was such a failure. That I owed Nalee much more, so much more.

The woman by my side is a different woman. One who now carried the scars of a heart twice broken and her trust for me not quite mended.

I removed my hand from her temple and moved it lower to her left shoulder, slightly pulling her towards me.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Sorry, I know we have our no-phone time in effect.” She lifted a hand and placed it on top of my elbow, rubbing on a spot.

“It’s okay,” I replied, my hand making circular motions around the soft skin of her shoulder blade.