“So, what. Like, now you’re taken? You’re all pussy whipped and stuff? This is ridiculous.” Brock pouts, crossing his arms across his chest and sitting down on the seat.

“I’m trying to be taken, asshole. I’m working really hard at winning her back. So, yeah. That means that I’m not going out with you tonight.”

“Great.” He throws his hands up, before shaking his head and glancing around.

“Fine. Great. Fanfuckingtastic. Whose next then? Jake bit the dust, Waynsie’s always been my right-hand man and now, he’s done for. So? Who? Who's gonna be next?”

“Easy, there big guy. You’re sounding like a crazy person.”

“Well, I am feeling kinda crazy. I just want to go out, maybe hit a strip club or two, find a nice hottie to love tonight...and then, you know. Wake up tomorrow and repeat.”

“Ok. I’ve heard way too much, and, well I’m pretty sure my unborn child is now scarred for life.” Laci groans, as she steps into the room, followed by the only woman in the world to make my heart literally stop and then race.

“Pssh.” Brock rolls his eyes before standing. “Baby Brock isn’t scarred by any stretch. This kind of talk is music to his ears.”

“See what I mean?” I hear Laci tell Avery, who smiles slightly before glancing over to me.

“Brock...I swear to God, how many times do I have to tell you...” Jake growls, before reaching over and covering Laci’s stomach as if to shield the baby.

“That you’re not naming your baby after me. Please. It’s a blessed name.”

“He’s your friend,” Jake tells me with a pointed look. “I don’t even like him that much.”

“He has feelings.” Brock quips back, before glancing around the room. “Ok, Ok. So, who's gonna hang with me tonight?”

Silence. I can’t help but chuckle, making Brocks glare deepen. But then, his eyes land on Avery.

“You.” He points his finger at her, as her mouth drops open. “Are you the reason that my best friend doesn’t want to hit the strip clubs anymore?”

“Brock,” I growl, as Avery’s cheeks flush and she clamps her hands down over Jacksons ears.

“Well? It’s an honest question.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Laci mutters to Avery, who is busy glancing between the two of us with wide eyes.

“Um.” She starts, but I quickly interject.

“I don’t want to go to the clubs with you, ya stupid ass. I want to spend time with my family.” I wrap an arm around Avery before pulling her close to me.

“Family? Good grief.” Brock mutters, before glancing around.

“Ryan? You don’t have a family anymore. I nominate you to hang out with me tonight.”

I hear Ryan’s growl, and, I already know where this is going to go. So, I quickly grab my bag before wrapping an arm around Avery and ushering her out of the locker room.

“I missed you.” I murmur, planting a kiss on her cheek.

She just smiles.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that. It’s just Brock. He tends to make things awkward.” I tell her, as we climb onto the elevator.

“Just a little bit.” She smiles tightly, as I reach over, smacking another kiss to her cheek.

“You know what? I think that you need to keep this jersey on for later.” I wink at her, taking in just how damn sexy she looks in the tight little jersey that has my name and number all over it.

“I think it’s my new favorite look on you.”

“I have your number too,” Jackson tells him, leaning back and pointing down at his belly. “Right here, Daddy.”

God, I fucking love hearing that one word leave his sweet little mouth.

I reach down and smack a kiss to his cheeks, as he wraps his tiny arms around my neck.

“I know, buddy. And I love that too. You look awesome.”

“Super-duper cool, right?”

“Yes. Most definitely.”

The elevator pings and the door opens, and, suddenly, we’re swarmed.

“Eric, great game. What is your relationship status with Avery? Who is the kid? Just need a minute...”

“Stick close, baby and keep your head down.” I pull her towards me, keeping my other arm tight against Jackson as we trudge forward.

“No comment.”

I continue to push us hard through the crowd of reporters, that literally, will not move. They stand, trying to block our exit, camera’s snapping in our faces while microphones are shoved at us.

Now hell, I’m totally used to this. The media has just become a part of my life.

For the most part, I’ll give them what they want. Smile for the camera, wave my little hat around, whatever in the fuck they need.

But right now?

When I have the two most important people in my entire universe here with me?

I just want to be left alone.

And I want to firmly keep them away from the media scrutiny that is sure to come.

“Back up.” I bark at Borgess, one of the prime reporters who I always stop and talk to. Except today, he’s showing me no mercy. He continues to step towards me, even as I stare him down.

“Here, baby. Hold him tight.” I hand Jackson over to Avery, who clutches him tightly, before grabbing her arm and stepping in front of her, pulling her tightly against my back.

“Waynsie. How did your girl get all those bruises? You angry man? That she trapped you? What gives?”

“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me, Borgess. Really? I expect better from you.  She was in a car accident.  And nobody trapped me, so get the fuck out of my way.”

“Waynsie. Come on, man. You always talk to us.”

I barrel right through him, knocking him off to the side.

“What the fuck, Waynsie? You just knocked me over!”

“Told you to fucking move.” I snarl, before ushering us forward, through a set of doors that require a badge and slamming the door, nearly on the fucking guy.

“Oh my god.” She stares up at me with wide eyes before glancing back towards the door. “Did that all just really happen?”

“Yes. Reporters.” I roll my eyes, before pulling her close.  I’m so sorry, Ave’s. I should have warned you...”

“It’s ok. They actually already tried hounding me after the game.”

“They did?” I can’t even hide my anger. Sometimes, I hate this job...

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s ok. I mean, it’s not your fault. I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

“I’m still sorry. Were they nasty to you?”

She doesn’t have to say a single thing. The way that she bites her lip and avoids my eyes is enough to tell me, that yes, in fact, they were complete and utter assholes.

As if I need anything else working against me here.

**

“HE’S FAST ASLEEP.” I set a glass of wine in front of Avery, who is leaned back in a lounge chair in front of the pool, before sinking down next to her and cracking open my beer.

“Thank you.” She reaches for the wine, taking a long sip before sighing.

“Today was a little crazy.”

I simply nod slowly, because, hell? What can I even say about it?

It was nuts. But to me, it’s pretty normal. It didn’t used to be quite so bad, back when we were a little more free to party it up. The cameras would get a few good shots of us out in the bars, and that had always been enough.

But now, ever since Laci came and took over, and even since she’s resigned, things have changed.

Our owner doesn’t tolerate the bullshit anymore, and even Brock has slowed his roll a bit. Which is great for us, but it’s not so great for the press. Now they swarm us, every damn chance that they get.

“There’s already pictures online.”  She tosses her phone over to me, and I grab it, before scrolling through the newsfeed.

“Motherfuckers.” I frown as I read the captions, and stare at the pictures, of my private moments, completely blasted on social media and lord only knows where else.

“How do they know so much about me? How do they even know that I’m supposed to be your housekeeper?”

My mouth flattens as I scroll further down, seeing on particularly trashy article on how I am “slumming it with the help.”

“Every bit of this is bullshit. You know that right? They make stuff up literally all the time. It’s all just to sell a story, Ave’s. Please don’t let it get to you.”

“How can it not get to me? I’m not used to having a camera shoved in my face. I guess maybe I should start wearing make-up so that at least when they catch me bringing out the trash, I don’t look like it too.”

“You’ll never be bringing out the trash, and furthermore? You don’t need to wear makeup. Ever. You look beautiful in all of these photos.”

“I’m still the help. So...”

“So then, you’re fired,” I smirk a little as her mouth flies open. “I mean, come on baby. I only hired you to get you here anyways. I didn’t even want you working for me, to begin with. It was all just a ploy to win you back.”

She reaches up and smacks me on the arm.

“You’re getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren’t you hot shot? Who said you had already won me over?”

“You did.” I reach out, running my thumb along her plump lower lip. “This mouth right here said it all.”

“Again, you caught me in a moment of weakness.”

“You came to my game today and sat in the spouse’s box. You wore my number proudly on that fine ass little body, and you held my hand on the way out. Pretty sure that makes us official.”

I waggle my eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes.

“You kill me.”

“Only if by loving you to death.”

I fly into her chair, wrapping my arms tightly around her before sinking back, pulling her flush against me.

“The press sucks. But don’t believe a damn thing that they say. Just a bunch of assholes with nothing better to do than makeup stories.”

“Still. I really don’t like my sons photo flashed everywhere. I mean, I can handle these wretched people talking about me. But there was an entire article on my child. And I’m not going to have that.”

“I understand, baby, I do. I totally get it. What can I do to fix this?” I pull her as close to me as I can get her, tightening my grip so that she can’t decide to jump up and bolt.

“Obviously, nothing. This is all normal for you, and you seem used to it. I’m just not used to it. And if this is the norm of being with you? Eric...”

“No.” I shake my head, before reaching under her bottom, lifting her up and pulling her onto my lap so that she is facing me.

“Don’t, Ave’s. Please. Don’t let this get in the way of us. Because baby, I’m just getting started with you again.”

She exhales softly, before squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head.

“I just don’t...”

Fuck it.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

I can feel her slipping away from me, and I cannot stand to lose her. Especially not when it’s the damn media that’s driving her away from me.

I need to refresh her mind on just how damn good it can be with me. Even though she got to remember it last night...and this morning?

She apparently needs to remember it again.

And I am not above using my sexual power over her to take her mind off of all of the things that could go wrong.

I spin us around, laying her flat in the lounge chair, before mashing my mouth onto hers.

“I’m not letting go, baby,” I mutter into her mouth, as she freezes for just a second before groaning and opening her mouth wide for me.

My hands fly over her body, grabbing at the tight little jersey still on her, before pulling hard and ripping it wide open.

Buttons pop and fly onto the concrete, and she gasps, but I’m not stopping. I’m hungry for her and damn determined to show her just how fucking good things are with me.

In about thirty seconds, our clothes are off and I’m back inside of her, listening to her scream my name and beg me for more.

Listening to her sweet lips tell me that she loves me.

And getting her mind fully off of leaving me.

**