Page 70 of Stick Fight

She squeals and steps in, reaching for me as steam curls around us. My cock’s already hard, tempted, but for the first time ever…I’m excited about a picnic in the park.

Who would have thought that I, Roman Marinelli, would be spending a Sunday in the park, a new kind of contentment about me because it’s with Gabby? I can’t even imagine what my brother would say.

We wash quickly—stealing a few soapy touches and slippery kisses—but manage to make it out without getting completely sidetracked. A short while later, we’re strolling hand in hand through the park, passing kids on swings, dogs chasing Frisbees, and couples curled together on picnic blankets.

I spot a quiet spot beneath a soon to bloom lilac tree. “How about here?”

She nods, and I lay out the blanket. We settle in, the warmth of the sun wrapping around us, and Gabby bends forward, reaching into a brown paper bag to pull out our lunch.

“Sandwiches, grapes, cheese…” she says with a grin. “All the essentials for a growing boy.”

“Keep bending over like that and I’ll be growing, all right. But this is a family park, not a place to be sporting the boner of all boners.”

She laughs, and I lean back on my elbows, watching her as she pulls out plates. When have I ever been this happy? She hands me food and we sit close, sunlight soaking into our skin as the low hum of life in the park surrounds us. The silence between us isn’t awkward. It’s easy. Comfortable. Like we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.

Gabby adjusts her glasses and nudges me with her elbow. I follow her finger toward the playground equipment when she points. “Is that Maeve and Tanner over there?”

I lift my hand, adjusting my ball cap to better see. “Yeah… looks like it. And they’re with Ash and Gina.”

She turns her head fast. “No way. That’s Ash?”

“How could you miss him? He’s the size of a mountain.”

“Hence his nickname,” she says with a chuckle as she nibbles on a piece of cheese.

I give a lazy nod and call out, “Ash!”

He looks over, and when he recognizes us, he lifts his hand and waves. Then he says something to Gina, who turns and smiles, then leans toward Maeve.

“They’re waving you over,” I say, tossing a grape into my mouth.

She brushes invisible crumbs off her shorts, and I can see the happy sparkle in her eyes beneath the brim of her ball cap. “Be right back,” she murmurs, and heads off with that subtle sway that always, always kills me.

As she passes Ash, she tosses him a quick quip. I can’t hear it, but the smile he gives her is genuine. A rare fucking thing from the mountain man himself, but I think Gabby has won the hearts of all my friends. Not that we go out with them, but she does come to the games and has gotten to know the WAGs. Ash veers toward me, yawning as he pushes the stroller like he’s running on fumes, and I have no doubt after our away game, he’s spent. When he lowers himself onto the blanket beside me, it’s with a quiet grunt that saysdad life is real.

“I’ve never seen you and Gabby here before,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his chin like it physically hurts to be awake.

I shrug. “Picnic.”

He snorts. “Oh yeah. You picnic now? Or is that code for something else?”

Smirking, I hold a grape up to show him before I pop it into my mouth. Across the park, Gabby’s talking to Maeve and Gina. Maeve is waving her hands like she’s telling the world’s most animated story, and Gabby’s eyes are wide, soaking it all in like she belongs there. Because she does. She laughs at something, and the sound hits me straight in the chest. I can’t stop looking at her.

But just as fast, my grin fades when I think about all she’s worked for and lost. What if… what if I can’t give her the future she actually spent years chasing? Am I holding her back?

A soft fuss breaks my thoughts. Ash leans over the stroller and scoops up Grant, cradling the little guy to his broad chest. It’s such a contrast. This giant hockey player turned soft-spoken dad with a baby tucked into the curve of his arm.

“Your onesie is all twisted,” he coos to Grant as he fixes it.

I blink, then let out a breath that’s half a laugh. “Man. Look at you.”

“What?” he grumbles, as he continues to adjust Grant’s clothing.

“I don’t know. I guess I never thought I’d ever hear the word onesie come from your mouth.” He gives me a warning glare and I laugh and continue. “You look happy,” I say, more seriously now. “Tired, but really, really happy.”

He glances down at Grant. There’s a flicker of something deep in his eyes, then he looks back at me. “Yeah. Well. Your day will come.”

“Whatever,” I shoot back, but Ash just grunts out a laugh.

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