Chapter 38: Sleet Kitten: Chapter 38

The bleeping of a phone alarm jolts me awake.

What the hell? That’s not my alarm tone.

I feel the mattress move, followed by a loud thump and a,“Shit!”

Smiling, I realize Jackson just fell out of my bed.

My eyes snap open. Jackson. In my bed. Memories of last night pour into my brain, heating my blood. And cheeks. I can’t believe I slept with Jackson. I can’t believe how good it was. No, not good, wonderful. Magical. Orgasmic. Well, I suppose Duh to that last one.

“Sorry, Kitten.” Jackson’s gravelly morning voice pebbles my skin. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” I say through a yawn.

It’s still dark in the room, and I can hear the shuffle of Jackson getting dressed. When the mattress dips right next to me, I blink my eyes to find him sitting on the edge of the bed.

Jackson reaches over and tucks my hair behind my ear, then bends down and kisses me gently on the lips. A shiver slides down my spine and I choose to ignore the fact that I have morning breath.

Jackson bumps his nose against mine. “I need to head in for practice. I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t have to go.”

I give him a sleepy smile. “I understand. Don’t apologize.”

“I had a great time with you last night.” I can feel the blush on my cheeks deepening. Even in the mostly dark room, I’m sure Jackson can see it. “I don’t just mean that part, I mean the whole day.” Running his finger down the length of my exposed arm he smiles. “Though the ending was pretty spectacular.”

I shrug. “Yeah, I guess it was all right.”

“Hmmmm.” Jackson narrows his eyes at me before pressing his lips to mine. Forcefully, this time.

As I make a move to sit up, Jackson puts a hand on my shoulder, holding me down. “Stay put. Just because I need to be up, doesn’t mean you have to be. I’ll lock the door behind me on the way out.”

I give him a sleepy grin. “I’d argue, but that sounds like a great idea.”

With one last quick kiss on the lips, Jackson rises from my bed. “We’re flying to Philly tonight for our game tomorrow. Then over to Boston for a night. I’ll be back the following night.” He pauses and just watches me for a moment. “I’d like to see you again.”

“I’d like that too.” My voice sounds breathy, but I’m blaming it on the early hour.

“Take care, Kitten.”

And with that, Jackson stands and walks out of my bedroom. A minute later, I hear the front door open and close. One night. I’ve spent one night with the man, and I’d swear he just walked out of the house with a piece of my heart in his pocket. Am I crazy? Is my imagination exaggerating the feelings I swear I felt for him last night?

I slap a hand against my bedspread. Ugh, how am I supposed to fall back asleep now?

Sitting up I reach over to the side table and grab my phone. Bringing it to life, I see that it’s not even 6:00 a.m. yet. Who the hell wakes up this early? Oh, right, a professional athlete with the body of a god. That’s who. I also see that I have about a dozen more messages from my brother. Idiot.

My phone chimes in my hand. It’s a text from Jackson.

Jackson: Go back to sleep, sweet Kitten.

With a smile on my face, I flop back onto the bed. Hugging the pillow that now smells faintly of Jackson, I do as he says and fall back asleep.

–

I’m once again woken by a phone, only this time it’s mine. After Jackson left, I must’ve fallen into quite the coma, because I feel like that was yesterday already. Snatching up my phone, I see that it’s nearly ten. A much more appropriate time to wake up on a Sunday.

“Hello? Katelyn? Are you there?”

Shit. I must have answered the phone when I picked it up.

“Katelyn honey?”

Even better. It’s my mom. Who better to kill my post-night-with-Jackson lady boner.

“Yeah, hi, Mom.” Wow I need some water. I sound terrible.

“Honey, you sound terrible. Are you sick?”

“Not sick, mom. You just woke me up.”

“You were still sleeping? Are you sure you aren’t sick?” She asks again.

“Did your concern for my overall health cause you to call, or did you need something?”

She ignores my tone. “Go make yourself some coffee while we chat. It’ll make you feel better.”

I’m not sick, but she’s not wrong. Coffee makes everything better.

Being overly dramatic I let out a loud sigh as I pull myself out of bed and make my way to the kitchen. At some point in the middle of the night, after sex and before Jackson left this morning, I woke up to use the bathroom. On my way back to bed, I pulled on one of my sleep shirt/dress things. They always make sleeping naked with someone look so sexy in movies, but the realities of all that bare skin pressed against bare skin is sweatier, and stickier, than it is cuddly.

“How was your weekend?”

I’d put the phone on speaker, and set it on the kitchen counter, then forgot all about it. I nearly jump out of my skin when my mom starts talking again.

I slowly release my startled inhale. “It was fine,” I reply, deciding to play dumb.

“Well, your father was watching ESPN last night. And imagine my surprise when he starts yelling for me to come look at the TV.”

Is it too early to start day drinking? It’s not that I’m trying to hide Jackson from my parents. Hell, they’re going to like him more than any other guy I’ve ever brought home. But that’s the problem, I don’t need them going all goo-goo eyes over him before I even know what we are. I mean we’ve been on dates. He’s given me the best orgasms of my life. Are we dating? Sure. Is he my boyfriend? Am I his girlfriend? I don’t know. Does he want a long-term committed relationship with me? I have no flipping clue.

If my mom is going to torture me with this, then I’m going to drag it out, too.

“Oh yeah? Did they have another one of those sports bloopers segments on again? I know how much Dad likes those.”

She makes an unamused sound. “It was actually a segment on the Minnesota Sleet and their recent winning streak.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, it was cool.” Mom says cool as if she’s never used the word before in her life. “They talked quite a bit about Jackson Wilder.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. And interestingly enough, they had a clip about him from the Kiss Cam, from one of their recent games.”

“Hmm. I don’t really like the Kiss Cam.”

“Really? You seemed to like it just fine when Jackson Wilder was sucking your face on national TV!” She’s nearly shouting by the end.

“Sucking my face?” A snort escapes me. “No one calls it that.”

“Well, how would I know? It seems that no one tells me anything anymore! By the time I got into the living room after all your father’s hollering, I missed the clip. But don’t worry, they played it again. After they played the ‘Candyman’ video.” She whispers the last few words. Like they’re profanity.

Now I’m laughing. I’m picturing my mom and dad, sitting in the living room, watching that ridiculous mashup music video, stunned out of their minds.

“I’m glad you find this funny. Your uncles were calling your father all night to ask if he could introduce them to Jackson Wilder. He had to tell them he didn’t even know you were dating that man. You are dating him, right? It looked like you two knew each other. And Alex said that he talked to you both yesterday.”

“Alex told you that already?”

“I’m glad someone did!” She’s back to yelling.

I try to tamp down my laughter. “I’m sorry, Mom. I wasn’t intentionally hiding him from you.”

“So…?” She trails off.

“So, what?”

“So, how on earth did you meet him?”

“We met at Daniel’s party.”

She squeals into the phone, making me glad it’s still on the counter and not pressed to my ear.

Rather than waiting for more questions, I continue, “So, we met there, and then he invited me to his game.”

“The Kiss Cam game?”

I cringe a little, she’s going to be more pissed when she finds out how much she’s missed. “Well he invited me to that game too, but he had one the day after Daniel’s party. He gave me a ticket and I went.” I decide to edit out the part where I met his mother. Learning that might send her right over the edge. “And then I went to his house for dinner a few nights later.”

When my mom gasps, I roll my eyes.

“Our dinner got cut a little short since he had some team stuff come up.” I really should tell her about meeting his family, but I’ll save that for some evening when I can loosen her up with wine. “Then I went to the Kiss Cam game. And yesterday he took me on a date.” There. No lies. Not the entire truth, but enough.

“And your date yesterday was ice-skating.” It’s like I can hear her batting her eyelashes and swooning from here.

“Yes. And we went to lunch beforehand.”

“Ooooo, lunch and skating.” If she were a cartoon, her eyeballs would be hearts.

Screw it. I’ll make her day. “Then we went to a coffee shop after skating and listened to a book reading.”

“Seriously?!” my mom whisper-shouts the word. She loves books as much as I do.

“Yeah, it was a really fantastic place. I’ll have to take you there.”

“I would love that. What a romantic day.” She sighs.

“And then he took me to dinner.”

“What?! You spent the entire day together?”

Fuck it. I’ll shock her socks off. “And night. He left this morning.”

There’s a loud clatter on her end of the call. Pretty sure she just dropped the phone.

It’s nearly a minute before I hear my mom’s voice again. “Warn a woman, would you? You gave me a hot flash.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” I chuckle. But I’m damn proud of myself. Alex and I always compete on ways to surprise our parents. I think I’ll be ahead in the tally for quite a while after this.

I can hear my dad’s muffled voice in the background. It’s getting clearer as it gets closer, and I hear him say, “Is that my Katie? Put it on speaker!”

I give my mom time to comply before saying, “Hi, Dad.”

“Katelyn Jean Brown. If you’re going to be kissing this boy on TV, I need to meet him.” I picture Jackson in my mind and boy is not the term I’d use.

“Dad…”

“And I don’t want to meet him for a stinking autograph or some such bullshit. I need to make sure he’s good enough for my baby girl. I know how those fancy athletes can be. Always playing the field.”

I’m not sure what to react to first. It’s super sweet that he wants to vet Jackson, but playing the field? Where do my parents learn these things?

“Dad, it’s still new. If it starts to get serious, I’ll make sure you can meet him and give him the stink eye.”

“Fine,’ he grumbles. “Is he treating you right? Is he good to you?”

I can hear my mom giggle in the background.

“Good grief, woman. Don’t be over there giggling. It ain’t right.”

Now I’m giggling.

“Ugh, fine you broads can stay here cackling. I’m sure I don’t want in on the joke. I’ll be in the garage.” I can perfectly picture my dad tossing his hands up in the air and shaking his head as he walks away.

My mom gets back on the phone. “Honey, he seems like a very nice man. Just make sure you have the same standards for him as you would for anyone else. Just because he’s rich, and famous, and smoking hot, doesn’t mean he gets any extra leeway.”

“I understand. And Mom, please let that be the only time I ever hear you call Jackson smoking hot.”

“Oh, sure. Whatever you say. Love you, honey.”

“Love you too.”

Hanging up, I take my coffee to the couch. Jackson is going to be out of town for the next two nights and I already miss him. If I didn’t have any of my own responsibilities, I’d love to go to his away games to cheer him on. But alas, reality bites. Luckily, I have a TV.