Kady

 

I’m practically bouncing off the walls, my excitement spilling over at the thought of spending time with Gavin the next few days.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned after leaving Izzy, it’s that I’m not good at being alone. I’m straight up a people person. Social butterfly. Life of the party and the one that brings it all together.

The last few days have been a great learning experience. They’ve taught me that I will never live alone or become a cat lady. I need people and interaction far too much. And it certainly doesn’t hurt when that interaction comes in the form of a gorgeous athlete who has a goofy sense of humor and is fun to be around.

When Gavin agreed to be my tour guide, I did a happy dance around the room like a dork. It’s so much better to experience things with someone else at your side, especially if he’s familiar with the area. I heard him go into his bedroom where he mumbled something about “fucking laundry” which made me giggle at the thought of his strong arms carrying a loaded basket down to the local laundry mat.

But then that thought turned into something altogether naughty. Like Gavin pushing me up against the washing machine and stripping me of my clothes, sliding his hands up and down my naked body, all while my hands roamed his bulging biceps and latched onto his round ass.

I sigh, because that’s the last thing I want to do. I can’t start thinking of him like that. About messing around with him. He’s incredibly hot and single. And a genuinely nice guy. But I don’t think getting involved with him is a good idea. My time here is limited and I can’t fuck anything up with him because he’s offering me a place to stay. 

I hear a loud grunt from inside his room and decide to go see if he needs help. Rounding the corner, I’m hit with a view of his ass in the air. And a fine ass it is. The one I was just daydreaming about clenching my nails into while he fucks me hard in the laundry room.

Hoo boy.

Gavin is on his knees, his back to me in the doorway, searching for something underneath his rumpled, unmade bed. 

I let out a low whistle, because his room is a pit. Gavin slowly turns his head to find me standing there.

With my hands on my hips, I scrunch my freckled nose in disgust. “Shit, I didn’t realize Florence had tornados.”

He looks confused, and the sound of my laughter ping-pongs off the old, spackled walls.

I gesture around the room. “The only logical explanation for this pigsty is that a twister came through it.”

He throws a pair of gym socks in the basket and stands, harrumphing at my attempt at a joke. I venture over to his five-drawer bureau where I gingerly pick up an empty beer can, sniffing at its contents. Boys can be such slobs.

“Har-dee-har,” he retorts, flicking one of his dirty T-shirts at my exposed leg. I yip at the sting and jump out of the way with a grunt. “For the record, I’m not here very much and I don’t have a housekeeper or anyone to pick up my shit.”

I give him the mini-violin motion with my fingers. “Wah-wah. Poor baby. No mama, maid or girlfriend to clean up after you. I feel so bad for you.”

Turning my attention back to the top of the dresser, I pick up a framed photo. It’s obvious it’s his mom and brother with him in the picture. They all wear similar smiles.

“I’m just giving you a hard time,” I say with a wink. “Is this Christian and your mom?”

Gavin stands and lifts the full basket from the floor before dropping it to the bed with a thunk. He gives a quick glance at the photo in my hand and nods his head.

“Yeah, that’s my older brother, Christian.”

I glance at the photo again before setting it down, turning to give him a puzzled stare. Gavin’s a very happy and fun-loving guy. But there’s something behind his smile in the photo – it’s much wider and, I don’t know – happier – which makes me wonder if he’s truly enjoying being in Italy. The way he’s spoken about his brother, I know they are as close as Kylah and I are.

I make a show of dragging my eyes over him. “You don’t look much like each other, except for maybe the height and cheesy grins. And the way your hairline does that little crooked thing in the front.” I swirl my finger at my forehead. Both brothers have a cowlick that bends to the right.

He chuckles. “Yeah, well, we’re definitely not twins or anything.”

I laugh at his reference to me and Kylah. Prior to me showing up on his doorstep, I’d never met Gavin, and I’m pretty certain he didn’t know Cade had twin sisters. I’d only divulged this last night over wine and dinner, when we got cozy on the couch after the most incredible lemon and seafood pasta.

There are a few similarities between Gavin and Christian – their long, sleek noses that point to their full lips. Bright, big smiles that project a hint of deviousness and brotherly love. Aside from that, they don’t look much alike.

“Christian is two-and-a-half years older than me and had a different dad. My mom was young when she met him, maybe seventeen, and the guy was an ass. He bailed on her as soon as she told him she was pregnant. Fucking guy knocked her up and left her.”

I grouse at this, mumbling “fucking prick.” I don’t understand how guys have the nerve to do something so cowardly like leave their girlfriend or wives with their unborn child. Of course, I understand that it might be a scary proposition to have a kid, but the mother is just as frightened. And to lay it all in her lap and leave without a care in the world is the most indecent thing a guy can do to a girl.

Gavin shrugs and smiles tightly. “She was a single mom until she met my dad fairly soon after Christian was born. They got married. I think my dad was trying to do the right thing, so I applaud him for that. But then he ended up being a loser, too, and took off when I was about five years old. Suffice it to say, until my stepfather Frank came into the picture, my mom didn’t have the best track record with men.”

“Shit, that sucks. I can’t imagine…she must be one tough chick to raise two boys on her own, though. Especially two basketball players. You must’ve eaten her out of house and home.”

“Yeah. Let me tell you, me and Chris put her through the ringer as kids. We both had our…issues, so-to-speak…but she was our rock. Unwavering and solid. I don’t know how she did it or what we would’ve done without her.”

His mom must’ve been a freaking saint to handle two boys on her own. I guess the same holds true for my mom. She stayed home with me and my siblings while my dad worked eighty-hours a week as a criminal defense attorney. She was the one who made our breakfasts, lunches and school treats, in between shuttling us from one thing to another. And most importantly, she broke up all our fights.

It was usually Cade and me bickering and fighting. Kylah was always the peacemaker between the three of us. And when she couldn’t manage the blow-out, my mom would step in and give us that stern look of disappointment before sending us to our rooms, after doling out the punishment.

“Moms are special that way,” I agree, making a reminder for myself to call my mom later today. Or to text her to let her know I love her. When I spoke with Kylah yesterday, she mentioned that my mom and her husband, John, are on some African safari. 

Regardless of how I felt about the weirdness of my mom marrying our long-time neighbor, John, it’s obvious that she’s much happier than she ever was with my dad. I’m glad she’s found someone who treats her so well and gives her a chance to travel the world, instead of being left behind in a suburban home succumbing to boredom and regret.

“Has your mom been to visit you since you’ve been here in Italy?”

I watch with interest as his expression moves from light to dark, like someone just shut the blinds and the shadows fell across his hard features.

He shakes his head, averting his eyes. “Nah, neither Christian or my mom have been able to visit. It is what it is. Christian’s has to take summer classes and work with a tutor so he can remain eligible for play next year. He fell behind this year.”

“Oh,” I lamely remark. I know the feeling.

“That’s another thing we have in common – me and my brother. We both have learning disabilities.”

My eyes round in surprise over his confession. I would have never guessed that Gavin had a learning disability.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s probably why we both excelled in sports, because we had our own special challenges in school. My brother was diagnosed ADHD when he was seven, and until he was officially diagnosed and put on meds that helped temper his behaviors, he created a lot of angst for my mom. He’d have these huge temper tantrums and melt downs, and would lose control physically, which lead to a lot of time away from school. That only put him further behind. By the time he got into high school, he was only reading at a sixth-grade level.”

“The school system couldn’t do anything for him?”

Gavin considers this. “Maybe, I don’t really know. He went to Special Ed classes and worked with tutors, but it’s always been hard for him to catch up. It’s been a real struggle, especially when all he wants to do is play ball. School and studying weren’t his first priorities.”

“That makes sense. Why didn’t he just go pro and avoid the hard work of college altogether? College isn’t for everyone.” Says the girl who dropped out and isn’t going back.

“Don’t I know it. That’s why you don’t see me in a classroom. My learning disability is even more severe and pronounced. If it hadn’t been for basketball, or some of the great coaches, teachers and school psychologists who helped and encouraged me, I probably never would have graduated high school. The only time I stood out for something positive was on the court, where I was truly exceptional.”

I’m lost in my own thoughts and turn back to the photo without a response. Gavin and I seem to be similar in this manner. I’m not sure how we got onto this topic of conversation, but I know exactly how he feels about being different. Compared to my brother and sister, who are scientific geniuses, I’m nothing but average. At least with Gavin, he has something he’s good at, though. As for me, I’ve never been exceptional in anything I’ve done. I’ve floundered in school. In life. In relationships.

That’s why I came to Europe. I needed an escape. A way to find myself. To figure out what I wanted to do and who I am on my own. 

I sit down at the edge of his rumpled bed, pushing a stack of unfolded clothes to the side to make room for my butt.

“At least you know what you’re good at and you’re doing what you love. Me, on the other hand,” I swish my hand in the air. “I’m a lost cause.”

Gavin sits down next to me, shifting to face me. His eyes, the warmth and intensity in them, spreads through me, tickling my heart chamber and causing it to flutter. He lays a gentle hand on my bare leg in a supportive gesture. It’s not sexual. Although, it doesn’t stop the crackling heat that sizzles and sparks between us. There’s a zap of electricity every time we’re near each other.

I wonder if he feels it, too. Or if I’m just in a weird place right now.

“That’s not true. You are remarkable. I’ve only known you two days and I already know that.”

I change the subject. “Do you miss your family?”

“I do,” he acknowledges quickly. “I wish they could come over and visit me. Unfortunately, my mom is dealing with my stepdad’s cancer. I can’t begrudge her for wanting to remain home to take care of him. She and Frank have only been married for four years and he was just diagnosed a month before I left. How about you? Missing home yet?”

I dodge his eye contact and stare out the window. Not much to look at except another brick building. Old Lady Minelli lives there – crazy loud lady, always yelling at her feeble husband. Gavin told me all about them last night, but said she makes delicious cannoli.

“I miss my sister, Kylah, and my brother,” I acknowledge, holding up my right hand and pinching my thumb and index finger together. “Well, Cade only a little bit. He can be annoying as hell.”

Gavin laughs and nods his head in agreement.

“I know all too well just how older brothers irritate the hell out of their younger siblings. That’s why they’re put on this earth. To torment and tease.”

“I doubt anyone misses me, though. They’re probably just glad I’m out of their hair for the summer.”

He squeezes my hand. “I don’t believe that, Kady. You’re too much fun not to miss.”

It’s not what he says, but how he says it – with such reverence and certainty. I bend over at the waist, toying with the drawstrings hanging from my blouse that synch together at my breasts.

My voice is quiet, filled with a swirl of emotion. “I don’t know. I really do think it’s much easier for everyone when I’m not home. They don’t have to deal with my drama all the time. I’m doing everyone a favor by being away.”

I pause and consider where all this is coming from. This sadness and home sickness. Everything has changed so much over the last year. My mom got remarried. Cade graduated college and is engaged. Kylah came into her own and found love. Even my dad has started dating again.

That leaves me the oddball out. Nothing and no one that makes me smile or dance or dream.

****

It’s strange to have a girl in my room that I haven’t fucked. Or plan to get naked with.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d be naked with Kady in a red-hot minute if I could. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’d be wild in bed. Just based on what I’ve observed so far, she’s made no secret of being DTF. Even when she’s ripping me a new asshole for staring at her boobs or ass, she’s only responded in a kittenish, almost coy, manner. But she’s also made it clear she wants to stay in the friend zone, even though I think we both recognize there’s something there.

And I am certain that attraction would mean some hot fucking sex.

Those kinds of thoughts should be farthest from my mind, especially after the deep and meaningful conversation we just had about our families. But I can’t help it.

Her doubt has clearly caught me off guard and I have no idea where such a seemingly self-assured woman can have those uncertainties. I don’t understand how she can think no one cares about her or misses her. The heaviness of our conversation has shut her down and she now seems lost in her thoughts, having expressed her uncertainty about her place in the world.

The physical chemistry I feel toward her may also stem from the similarities we share. That connection isn’t lost on me. Although in completely different places in our life, we both seem a bit uncertain about who we are and where we are going. Although I have my basketball career, there’s no guarantee I’ll make it to the U.S. pros. I could stall out here and then have nowhere else to play. If that happened, I don’t know what I’d do.

For Kady, it’s the sheer magnitude of the unknown. She doesn’t know yet where she wants to be or what she wants to do and doesn’t have a clear plan. She compares herself to her brother and sister. I tried reminding her that she is her own person and has her own path to follow. She grumbled when I mention that and flops back on my bed, throwing her arm over her eyes.

My body stills when I’m hit with a realization that she’s now lying right next to me on my bed. In my mind, I picture her naked across the sheets, her long hair spilling out and over my pillows. Her legs spread out across the comforter and her hand skimming down the center of her body, her fingers teasing her sensitive flesh along the way.

My pants grow tight behind the zipper and I move away from her, standing up and picking up some of my shit.

I know I need to get Kady out of my room. Otherwise, another five minutes and I’ll have her undressed with my mouth between her thighs. And fuck, that sounds too good right now.

Setting the laundry basket back down on the floor, I turn back to her on my bed and find her watching me. I swallow thickly, offering up a solution that will help me get her out of my bed.

“Hey, want to get out of here and go do some sightseeing?”

She blinks, a little confused. “I thought you had laundry to do?”

I wave her off. “Meh. I can do that shit later. That’s the beauty of dirty laundry. It’ll always be there.”

Her infectious laugh fills the room. “True dat. Okay, let’s do it, then. Where are we going?”

“Not sure. I guess we’ll wing it,” I confirm, offering my hand to help her up. When she takes it, I’m pulverized by the shock her touch sends up my arm.

She grins, her mood brightening. “Perfect, cause I’m a wing-it type of girl.”

And just like that, I realize how easily “winging it” could get us into trouble.