Page 163 of Just for the Cameras
“I know.” She sighs and then tucks her head in the crook of my neck again, curling up on my lap and holding on to me tightly. “Maybe you can tell me a little bit about her if you want.”
A small smile peeks past my lips because I honestly can’t remember the last time I talked about her, and having this outlet, this person in my life who I can open up to about something that I’ve been holding in for so long, is amazing. It’s like she broke the dam and I’m pouring everything out.
“She was, is…was, I guess, since she’s not the same woman anymore.”I rest my hand on Maple’s hip and drag my fingers leisurely over her warm skin. “She was the kind of mom involved in everything, and I know a lot of it was because my dad was so absent playing football that she overcompensated for it. But thinking back, it meant everything that she was there for me. I didn’t have that person who showed up for me in my life after her accident. I was practically raised by a nanny.”
“That’s awful.”
“It wasn’t too terrible. It was better than dealing with my dad.”
“Was he…was he abusive to you?” she asks, her voice shaky.
“Not physically. Mentally and emotionally, yeah. Fucked with my head a lot. By the time my mom had the accident, they were already divorced, and I was living with her, so I had to move in with him. I was a wet blanket to his single life.”
“How did he fuck with your head?”
I feel myself tense before saying, “When I was in college, he had no problem pursuing the same girls I was. Would always flirt right in front of me when he was still with my mom when I was younger, just…a total and utter asshole. I don’t…I don’t really want to get into it, but the day that I punched him at training camp, it was because he was talking to you in a way that I did not appreciate one bit.”
“Oh, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
I shrug. “He’s a dick, and I hate him. The only reason he’s in my life right now is because he falsifies this father-son relationship to the press, especially at the beginning of the season. It’s all for media and clout.”
“That’s so messed up.”
I pause for a moment, taking a breath, because I can’t remember the last time I actually talked this much. “There are times when I wish he was the one with the brain injury. The guy who played football—it just seems like it was supposed to be him, but instead, it was her. She was so vibrant, so full of life, would try anything and never shy away from a challenge.She was resilient and believed in doing the right thing, even if it caused you hurt and pain.”
“Is that why you visit her every week?” Her thumb strokes my pec.
“Yes,” I answer. “That, and a piece of me hopes and prays that there will be a day when she recognizes me, that she will hold my hand and just let us live in the moment, where we can paint together. Those sessions are few and far between, but fuck, Maple, when they do happen, it feels like one of the greatest moments in my life. Seeing her smile, seeing how proud of me she is. It’s…it’s a feeling I will continue to chase, even as those moments grow fewer and fewer.”
I can feel her tears on my chest as she lightly cries against me.
“Please don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry,” she says as she lifts up to look at me again. “It’s just…God, I can’t imagine feeling such agony. I hate that for you.”
I swipe at her cheeks, ridding her of tears. “Could be worse, she could be completely gone, and I wouldn’t have any moments. And it’s not all bad. There are days when she’s apprehensive, but she will still paint with me, side by side. It just makes me sad that I can’t hug her or hold her hand, but it’s better than nothing.”
Her lips meet mine in the faintest whisper of a kiss as she straddles me again, her hands smoothing over my shoulders. Her lips against my cheek now, she says, “You’re a good man, Graydon.”
“Could be better,” I say honestly. “You don’t know everything about me. I have anger issues. I have a fuck ton of baggage, and if I were a better man, I would stand up right now and walk out your door, sparing you the struggle.” My hands slide under her shirt and run up and down her sides. “But I’m not a better man. I’m a selfish prick who set my eyes on something I shouldn’t have, and I’m going to take it anyway.”
“You deserve me, Graydon.”
I shake my head. “I really fucking don’t, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to be the man you deserve, because I will.”
She sighs, and then she brushes her lips against mine again, parting my mouth and delivering the sweetest open-mouthed kisses, allowing me to get lost in her.
Lost in the feel of her.
Lost in the moment of being able to cling to her after such a tough conversation.
My hands drag her shirt up and over her head, leaving her completely bare to me.
“Fuck,” I rasp as I fill my palms with her breasts and gently squeeze while my thumbs stroke her nipples back and forth.
She groans into my mouth, her hips sinking down on my hardening length while her hands dig into my hair, holding me in place but also making my skin tingle with every scrape along my scalp and thrust of her hips.
I release one of her breasts and stroke her spine until I reach her perfect ass. My fingers glide along her crack and then over the round globe, completely and utterly obsessed with her body and her curves.
