Page 54 of Power Play

twenty

. . .

Riley

I wake up disoriented. There’s someone beside me in the bed, and I am most definitely not in my room. It’s been a long time since I’ve slept next to anyone, much less a man, but as I glance over my shoulder at Al’s sleep-slackened face, I’m starting to forget why it’s such a bad idea.

A rustling sounds from across the room, and I force myself out of bed. Emmy is awake in her bassinet, kicking her feet and grinning.

Rubbing my tired eyes, I yawn, then lift my baby into my arms and give her a snuggle. She’s trapped in her sleep sack, her sweet baby scent eclipsed by the stench of a soiled diaper.

Okay. First things first.

“Let’s leave your daddy to sleep a bit longer,” I whisper to her as I carry her into her room. A few minutes later, I leave her in the crib, freshly changed and dressed in a pink onesie, as I brush my teeth, wash my face, and fix my ponytail.

Fuck, I look wrecked. I’m amazed she let us sleep as late as she did, and that she slept on her own for the first time in the better part of two weeks. Maybe she’s finally turning the corner of this thing.

Once we’re settled downstairs, I prepare a bottle, and we curl up on the couch. My mind drifts to last night—or was it early this morning? I don’t know what possessed Al to bring me to his bed, to kiss me and hold me all night long.

But I can’t deny I liked it.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Of course, Emmy doesn’t answer me. She’s a baby. She can’t talk yet.

After settling her in her bouncer, I clean the bottle, wipe down the counters, and sweep the floor. I don’t know what to do. It’s weird going about my everyday life while Al’s upstairs sleeping.

It doesn’t last long, though, because a little past eight, he stumbles down the stairs. Considering he didn’t get home until nearly four, I have no idea how he’s upright.

“Morning,” he says, his voice deep and rumbly from sleep.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” There, that sounded normal. Totally normal.

“Like a rock.” He ducks down and kisses Emmy on the forehead, chucking her chin, before he crosses the room to where I’m standing. His arm snakes around my waist, his hand on my hip. Soft lips land on my temple, a fleeting kiss. “How about you?”

Before I can blink, he’s squeezing past me into the small galley kitchen, pulling a mug off the rack and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“I slept mine. I mean, fine.”

“Good. You needed the rest.”

Hands on my hips, I try to glare at him. “Are you saying I look tired?”

Al pauses, the coffee cup halfway to his mouth. “Uh…”

I can’t help it; I laugh, and then Emmy giggles too, which makes me grin.

“I’m fucking exhausted. Those three and a half hours is the longest she’s gone without me having to hold her since you’ve been gone.”

“Well, I’m here now. I’ll hold her anytime.” But then he winces. “I do have to hit the rink for a bit. We’ve got the day off, so long as we do our weight training.”

“I’ve got her. It’s fine.”

I know the score. It’s part of the gig.

“I was thinking… maybe we can go to the aquarium after? It might be fun for her. They have a children’s pool. She can play with the starfish and splash in the water.”

My stomach flips. We. He wants to do something together.