Chapter Twenty-two
Dex
We just settled in for a two-hour flight back home. One of the reasons I love my job is because of the travel. I love flying. When I was a little boy, I wanted to be a pilot. That dream career was short-lived, though, once I got my hands on a video game controller. Still, I love being in the air, and I always look forward to our next tournament.
For the first time, however, I find myself wondering if I could get Morgan to travel with us. The past few days I haven’t had a lot of time to dwell on the fact that I’ve missed her so much. Now that I know I’ll be home soon, I can’t wait to kiss her. Hell, last night when my head finally hit the pillow all I could see when I closed my eyes was her, laying naked in my bed, primed and ready for me. That text she sent me of her last night was the culprit. I was surprised she sent such a risqué photo to me, but don’t get me wrong, I like it when she surprises me.
Now that we’ve been having sex, it seems like my awareness of her body has kicked into high gear. I honestly don’t know how I survived the first few weeks of our relationship without sex. She's just so damn hot, and sex with Morgan is the best I've ever had.
I was already on the fast track to falling in love with this woman, but damn, when we had sex the first time, it was as if the earth shifted. With Morgan, sex felt like something so much more than just sex. It felt like we connected on a different level, it was more making love instead of just sex. And I liked it. A lot.
"Dude, did you hear me?" Link says from my left.
"Ah. I'm sorry, no," I say, pushing thoughts of a naked Morgan from my mind. Link often travels with us to our tournaments. He live-streams the tournaments on Twitch and then posts highlights on his YouTube. He makes good money doing it, but he is also an honorary member of the team.
"I swear; I always have to repeat myself with you. You never listen to me anymore," Link says in a high, overly dramatic voice.
"Where are your balls, man?" Simon adds shaking his head. "You know he's thinking about Morgan."
I laugh in agreement, "Her face is a lot prettier to think about than your ugly mug. What were you saying?"
"I'm offended. I think I have a pretty face."
Simon rolls his eyes and goes back to reading his book.
"So, how are things with the beautiful Morgan?" Links asks.
"Good. Things are good," I reply.
"I think she’s pretty cool. I like her. It's fun to ruffle her feathers, and she's such a good sport about it. I hope it works out," Link says genuinely.
"Me too, but I'm pretty sure you only want it to work out so you can keep hitting on Ruby. Don't think for one second we don't notice whatever it is going on between the two of you," I say with a smirk.
"You two go round and round, and it’s actually quite entertaining," Simon adds, still focused mostly on his book. I don't know how he can read and participate in our conversation.
"It's only a matter of time before she becomes susceptible to my charm," he says with pure cockiness. He becomes thoughtful for a moment before adding, "I like Ruby. She is challenging, sure, but I legitimately like being around her. Yeah, I'm attracted to her, but I don't think she's ever gonna take me seriously, and I'm ok with that. "
This time, Simon looks up from his book, places his hand on his heart and with an exaggerated gasp, "Holy turn of events, Batman, did Link just admit that he wants to be friends with a…with a girl?"
I start cracking up mostly due to Simon’s comment but also because I’m a little in shock of what Link just admitted. He is a total player and has never been just friends with a girl before. Girls never stick around long, and there seems to be a never-ending line of them waiting to take the last one's place.
The lopsided grin of Link’s face is confirmation enough but in a quiet whisper, "Yeah. But let's keep that between us, though, ladies."
After that, Simon puts his book away and we start discussing the tournament, which is what Link was trying to talk to me about while I was thinking about my girl. It's never too early to talk about what we can do to make sure we beat the teams we compete against. Knowing the team’s strengths and weaknesses matter. The rest of the team is a few rows up on the plane, and I'm sure they are doing the same. We will have a good meeting tomorrow to celebrate our win and talk strategy for the tournament coming up next month.
~~~
We arrive in Chicago well after 10:00 p.m. It’s a Sunday night, so I know Morgan will probably be in bed. I missed her like crazy, so I’ve decided to surprise her with an overnight. Thirty minutes after hailing a cab, I'm typing in the code at the front of her apartment, which she gave me a couple of weeks ago. It's not the same as giving me a key, but I think it's too soon for that.
As I exit the elevator and make my way to Morgan’s door, I contemplate texting her, but I know Gia is a night owl, she’ll be able to let me in. I knock, and a minute later, Gia, opens the door.
She gives an uneasy smile. "She went to bed about thirty minutes ago. I take it she doesn't know you're coming?"
"Nope, I wanted to surprise her. I figured you'd still be awake," I say. She closes the door behind me.
With my bag in tow, I start to head down to Morgan's room. I look over my shoulder to say good night, but the look on Gia’s face makes me come to a halt.
Her lips are pursed, and her brows are furrowed. She is staring at me, but not really at me. She opens her mouth to say something but snaps it shut.
“Everything alright?” I ask.
With a shake of her head, she glances up, finally making eye contact, “Yeah. I’m fine. I’m glad you came over tonight.” She walks over to the couch and plops down where I suspect she will be for at least another two hours.
Well, that was odd. I mutter a good night and head down the hall.
Morgan’s door is left slightly open. I quietly push it wider and step inside. The room is pitch-black, except for the soft red glow of her phone charger next to the bed. I place my bag near the door and strip out of my clothes, which leaves me in only my socks and boxers. Morgan makes fun of me, but I've slept in my socks since I was a little kid. I lived in those footie pajamas until it was no longer cool if others found out.
She is hunkered down under her covers, right in the middle of the bed. I’m a little surprised she isn’t still awake and reading. I lift the covers and slide in next to her. There's just something about being so close to her. She's warm and soft, and as I spoon behind her, she starts to stir.
"Shhh. It's just me," I whisper and squeeze her tight.
She makes a small sleepy noise that my body mistakes for a sexy little moan instead. I don't know if it's possible for my body to not be turned on by this woman. She must be more awake now because she turns over and faces me. Her sweet, sleepy smile I adore is missing from her lips as she says, "I wasn’t sleeping. What are you doing here?" Her voice is low and hoarse.
"I couldn't wait until tomorrow. I wanted to surprise you. I missed you," I say because I did, a lot more than I expected to.
She jerks her face away from me, “Really? I had no idea,” she says a tad sardonically.
“What? Of course, I did.” I reply. I’m confused.
I study her face, and I can tell she’s trying to figure out how she wants to proceed.
“Morgan?” Dang, these women are acting strange tonight.
She gives a little shake of her head and looks at me sheepishly, “Nothing, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
She hugs me with all the strength she has and nuzzles her face into my neck. I'm a little surprised by the embrace, but even more surprised when I feel wetness on my skin. Is she crying?
"Hey, hey, babe, what's wrong?" I soothe. She shakes her head into my neck. I want to push her back a bit so I can see her face and find out what's wrong, but she’s holding on to me for dear life. What I suspect are tears seem to stop as quickly as they started. When she leans back, her eyes are glossy, but there are no signs of tears.
"Talk to me, Morgan," I urge in a calm and gentle tone, even though I'm starting to freak out.
"I missed you," she whispers.
"I missed you, too, but what else is going on?"
She contemplates my question, then lets out a shaky breath.
"It was just hard with you being gone and not being able to see you. I thought it would be alright because we would text and you’d call me when you had a chance. But you didn’t, you barely contacted me at all. You never called when you said you would, and I was lucky if I got a text hours later.”
Whoa, whoa, I texted her and called her. I open my mouth to defend myself; then I snap my mouth shut when I realize that the only time I talked to her on the phone was right after we landed Thursday night.
“Hell, I had to find out from Ruby that you guys won! And then in a desperate plea for your attention, I sent you a sexy selfie.” Her voice is starting to rise, “I actually thought phone sex would be the key. But no, you just sent me a stupid reply thirty minutes later and then nothing. NOTHING!” she spits. She sucks in a breath, seemingly trying to regain her composer. “See if I ever try to have phone sex with you again, Dex Roberts.”
I blink. All I can do is stare at her. The seconds drag on while I try to make sense of everything she just said.
“Phone sex?” is what tumbles out of my mouth.
“Don’t be dense,” she huffs. She pushes herself up into a sitting position.
My mind is on complete overdrive right now. I’m trying to focus on the most important thing she said to address first, but my mind is stuck on the phone sex part. I push it away and see she’s now leaning against the wall hugging her knees to her chest.
“Babe, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to forget about texting and calling you, I was just in the zone and focused on the tournament. I’m not used to having to check in with someone.”
Her lip quivers. That didn’t come out right.
“Shit,” I mutter. I sit up and move toward her so we are knees-to-knees. “I said that wrong. I just get in the zone, and all I think about is the game. I normally don’t have anyone counting on me outside of the team, and so I wasn’t thinking about how that would affect you. I’m truly, so, so sorry Morgan.”
She just looks at me, biting her bottom lip, contemplating my fate.
“I promise I’ll be better next time. I’ll text more and make sure I call you when I say I’m going to,” I plea.
I can tell that she going to forgive me when tension falls from her shoulders and she lets me pull her into a hug and back down into the bed.
She clears her throat and with a stronger, more stable voice she says, "So I guess, a congratulation is in order."
I chuckle and pull her closer. “Thanks, but I don’t care about that. I want to talk about this phone sex you wanted to have.”
She huffs, “I don’t know what I was thinking, but it’s never happening again.”
Well, that fucking sucks.
“Baby, please, please don’t say that. I have no idea why I didn’t catch on when you sent me that picture, other than the fact that I’m an idiot. But it would be a crime, a crime against humanity, if you never sent me another sexy selfie or had phone sex with me,” I plea.
She stifles a laugh and replies, “Dramatic much? I’ll make no promises on the never sending you a picture again; it was a nerve-racking experience.”
“I thought it was sexy as hell. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop.”
She leans in and kisses my nose. With a sly little smile, she says, “You could just send me a dick pic instead. I’ll understand what it means.” I tickle her, and she giggles until I cover her sexy mouth with mine.
We lay there in bed, my arms around her, her head on my shoulder and she asks me all about the trip and the tournament. She still seems a little sad, but maybe it's just because she is sleepy.
An hour later, her breathing evens out in sleep, and I kiss her forehead. I’ve messed up this weekend. I have to work harder when we travel from now on. I hated seeing her so sad and upset, especially when I was the cause of her sadness.
This girl is special, and I don't want to lose her. Maybe I’m already in love with her.