Page 84 of Against the Clock
“No,” she says, a smirk on her face. “From last night. And this morning.”
“Oh. Oh. I hurt you? Shit, Kelsey, why didn’t you say something?” I grab her hand, kissing her knuckles and observing her face, looking for clues of what I’ve done wrong.
“It’s a good sore, you goofball. You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do.”
Possessive pride fills me at that, and I kiss her hand again, loving the way she looks at me when I do it.
This fucking woman. It’s been all of a few days and I’m already in so deep that I’m not sure it’s healthy.
When I saw her talking to Darius’ kids, it was like a light bulb went off in my head. She was good with them. Natural.
She would be a good mother, if she wanted to be.
“Do you want kids?” I ask, the question blurting out of me. Damn wine. I wince.
“Kids?”
“Yeah, you know. Eventually.” I tug at the collar of my shirt. I fucked that right up.
“I mean… maybe? I don’t know. I like kids, but I’m only twenty-five. I want to do more things before I have a baby, you know?”
“Right,” I say. “Absolutely. I respect that.”
“You want kids.” She says it slowly, with an air of disbelief that surprises me.
“Well, yeah. I love kids. I’d love to have my own. I love the idea of throwing the football around with them, coaching little league or soccer or whatever. Going to their dance recitals.” My throat gets tight at the idea. A little version of Kelsey and me in a pale pink tutu, twirling around on stage while Kels sits next to me in a dark theater, holding my hand.
God, I want that.
The vision disappears and there’s just Kelsey, blinking up at me, a curious expression on her face.
“In the future,” I say, trying to backtrack.
“The future,” she repeats. “Yeah. Kids. With the right person.”
I want to be the right fucking person for her so bad that I can hardly stand it.
“Let’s get you home.” I force myself to say it.
“Yeah. Sleep sounds good. I’m so relaxed.” She stretches her arms out, then yawns, and it’s so fucking cute that my heart squeezes at the sight.
“Apples, wine, and multiple orgasms,” I say, holding out a hand for her, helping her out of her chair. “The secret to a good night’s sleep.”
“Maybe I should do an investigative report on that,” she says, and I laugh. “This just in: multiple orgasms and wine key to deep sleep. More at six o’clock.”
“Is that your newscaster voice?”
“Oh yeah. It’s good, right? Spent a semester refining it.”
“Better than good. That’s how I want you to dirty talk to me,” I tell her.
“This just in: Daniel Harrison’s dick.” She’s completely straight-faced and I burst out laughing. She squeals as I pull her closer for a tight hug.
“You better stop or I’ll have to take you back to my house instead of your apartment.”
She sighs, her body drooping as we make it to the parking lot. “Sadly, I have to go to work tomorrow. I’m going to have a ton to catch up on.”
“Was it worth it?” I ask. The gravel crunches under our feet and I’m holding my breath, waiting for her answer.