Page 13 of A Surprise for the Holidays
His stomach twisted incomprehensibly as Bailey’s expression scrunched up almost apologetically. “A date, actually.”
AJ told himself the stab of bitterness was jealousy because he wasn’t dating. He couldn’t understand what else it might mean. “Shit. I’m sorry. You should have said—”
“It was a bust anyway. You actually kind of saved me from a really awkward meal.”
All right, if his jealousy was because he wished he was going out on dates and not feeling like a lonely, incompetent father, why was he relieved to hear that Bailey hadn’t been enjoying himself?
“Right. Well, you’re welcome, then.”
And why the ever-loving-fuck was he now acting so strangely?
Get it together, Jacobs.
It had to be the exhaustion and stress finally getting to him. That was all.
Bailey didn’t seem bothered by his awkwardness, though. He just smiled, all dimples and unblemished, youthful skin.
Why the hell was he noticing Bailey’sskinnow?
He’d officially lost the plot, he had.
Then Bailey yawned and looked at his watch, grimacing. “I hate to be this guy, but…do you mind if I crash here tonight? I’m happy to stay on your couch, but…I just don’t wanna drive back home this late. Or early, depending on how you look at it.”
“After everything you’ve done, the least I can do is offer you a bed. Only,” it was AJ’s turn to grimace, “the spare bed’s drying out, too. After the first time she threw up, I moved her in there and…” Not only had she thrown up again, she’d also wet the bed. It did not have a mattress protector and had required a thorough scrubbing. Dragging his hand over his face, AJ finished, “it’s not inhabitable right now.”
“The couch is fine, I swear,” Bailey insisted.
AJ shook his head. “You’re not sleeping on a two-seater sofa. Not when you’re, what, six foot?”
“Six two, actually,” Bailey smirked, “six four if I do my bun right.”
AJ was almost distracted enough by that logic to not argue his original point. Hadn’t he just been thinking Bailey was mature?
“Anyway,” he said, giving himself a little shake, “you’re our captain. If I let you contort yourself on this tiny sofa and you put your back out and it fucks with your game…”
Bailey chuckled and then they both held their breaths as Ava stirred in his lap. Thankfully, she didn’t wake up.
“Alright, point made,” Bailey acquiesced when the danger had passed. Then he yawned again. “So, what’s your suggestion? Because you look dead on your feet and I don’t think you should take the couch, either.”
“I can sleep with Ava.”
“With the vomit monster who wets the bed? What part of ‘you’re already dead on your feet’ did you miss?”
AJ snorted. “Well, the only other bed is mine.”
“And it’s a King, right? I snooped.” Bailey added the last bit with a shrug and a cheeky grin. “I had to see where the great Premier League player sleeps.”
“Former,” AJ corrected, rolling his eyes. “And, yes, it’s a King.”
“So, we’ll both fit comfortably.” Bailey’s usually bright countenance darkened for a moment, “Unless you’ve got a problem sharing a bed with a bi guy.”
“Fuck off,” AJ glared at him. “I don’t have an issue with your sexuality, Peters.”
“Bailey.”
“Fuck’s sake.Bailey.” It was hard not to sneer the man’s name, insulted as he was that the younger man thought he might be in any way homophobic. “Not that it makes any difference to you, but my niece is bi, and my oldest nephew came out as gay last Easter, and they’re perfect as they are. Just because I’m a footballer—”
“I’m sorry,” Bailey interrupted softly, appearing suitably apologetic. “Over the years, some of the guys have been dicks about it, so I get my back up and just assume…”
