Page 90 of Fumble Into the End Zone

“Noooo. Please Mr. Allen please fuck me hard. Grip my hair harder and make me take it,” Mia begged.

I smack her ass. “I thought so,” I said and went back to work.

I boarded the plane back to Houston this morning with an agenda to take care of my family. Mia showed up for me without me asking. Seeing her and Harley on the sideline peeled away my negative thoughts about people. I could count on one hand how many times people showed up for me. She was Mrs. Allen, and I needed to push up my timeline to make this a reality. For the bulk of my trip home, I searched for a gift until someone reminded me we had four days off. A mini vacation was a must. I booked a family trip to the Bahamas for us, including a private plane. I spared no expense when it came to the ladies in my life.

“Gon ahead marry Mia,” Bryce said as I booked the luxury room with the private beach access.

I gave him the side-eye.

“She got you spending money, changed your wardrobe, and fucking for touchdowns. It’s a wrap on yo ass,” Bryce said, and I shrugged.

If I had a mirror, I would’ve pointed it at him. The more time he spends with Kindness, the chip on his shoulder shrinks. Instead of responding to Bryce, I opened my text message thread.

Me

I need you and Harley packed by 2:00

Five minutes passed before my phone vibrated.

Wifey

Why

Me

Pack bathing suits

Wifey

Unzipping my luggage. Do you need me to pack for you?

The way this woman takes care of me weakened my knees.

Me

I got it. Stopping by the house first to check on progress and then I’ll be home.

The special teams’ players laughed as I drove out of the airport hangar in my Maxima. It didn’t bother me that most of the team drove sports cars. Give it a year, our cars would be worth the same. Pulling into the driveway of my house, the construction crew van sat on the side of the road. The inspector I selected has been dinging their ass for every minor infraction. After he leaves, I send a different company to keep everyone on their toes. My original plan was to build everything myself, but it’s not possible. Sending rent payments every few weeks played with my psyche. I need my women in one location, our forever home.

The dry wall was up on the first floor, including the living room and kitchen. Going with the open concept and bi-fold doors brought in the natural light. I borrowed the idea from Mia. Pulling the door open, the contractor I hired greeted me with a handshake before we stepped back inside the house to talk.

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Mr. Allen. Your emails and voicemails were always to the point. It’s hard to nail down your style,” Drew Summers said.

I studied his movements as we stared at each other. “Football is the main priority through the season,” I offered.

“With the new request of a pool, butler’s pantry, prep kitchen, expansion of the primary closet, and a recording studio with separate entrance, we’ve had to make quite a few change orders. If you have time, I would prefer we walked through the layout again. Finding out you own the property next to us gave us the necessary space for the add-ons,” he said.

I remained quiet and followed him around the property and viewed the blueprint for the new layouts. The measurements fit my plans, leaving me no room to be concerned. My five-bedroom, six bath jumped into a seven-bedroom eight-bathroom house. After I walked through Mia’s house, I upgraded the finishes in our house and added space. Mia lived in luxury, and I needed to either meet her level of comfort or upgrade it.

Mia had changed several things about her schedule to accommodate Harley’s schedule. She hosted her lives earlier in the day and found it to be successful. Listeners preferred the show during their lunch hour as the sports news was happening. The new time slot was a relief for me as the guilt of her schedule change weighed on me.

“Everything looks good,” I said.

“You don’t have any questions?” Drew pushed.

I scanned the unfinished house with satisfaction. “No, I’m happy with the work so far,” I said.

“A man of few words. I do hope you keep me on after this project,” he said.

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