Unravel Me (Playing For Keeps Book 3)

“You’re fucking embarrassing.”

“Oh, what? So you and Carter can bring your kids to family skate, but I can’t bring mine?” Jaxon flings his arms into the air before propping his fists on his hips. His cat, Mittens, meows from where he’s strapped to his chest, in a—fuck, this pains me to say —cat carrier. “Double fucking standards.”

Garrett looks up from his knees, where he’s lacing up Jennie’s skates. “I’m scared you might be losing it, bud.”

Jennie cringes. “I hate to say this, Jaxon, but I think you might need a—”

“Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it, Jennie.”

“—girlfriend.”

There go his arms, up above his head again. “I told you not to say it! Mittens has a touch of separation anxiety, that’s all. And we were just on the road for eight days.” He takes Mittens’ paw, jiggling it. “You hate when I leave you, don’t you, chunk? Yes, you do. Daddy hates leaving you too.”

Rosie snorts a laugh, and Jaxon narrows his eyes at her. She folds her lips into her mouth, pretending to button them, then leans into me as I tie Connor’s brand-new hockey skates. “I think we all know who’s the one with separation anxiety.”

I chuckle, watching as she looks down at her skates, swings them gently, her fingers gripping the bench as she breathes deeply. She sure isn’t experiencing separation anxiety from a cat right now, but I know my girl is feeling a little anxious. “How are you doing, trouble?”

“Me?” Her brows jump, and she lays her hand on her chest. “Fine. I’m fine, Adam.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Wanna try that again?”

She sighs, long and loud, back to staring at her skates. “I’m nervous. I’ve never skated before. I think I’m going to make a fool out of myself, but I’m so happy to be here and doing something that means so much to you.”

Her hesitant gaze flicks to the crowd of children who’ve just exploded through the doors, rushing to find spots on the benches in our locker room to get skates on too. Kids from Second Chance Home, joining us today for a family skate, because they’re part of our Viper family.

I cover Rosie’s wringing hands with one of mine, tipping her chin up until she’s looking at me. Over the past two months, I’ve told Rosie all about my charity, the Family Project, the work we do with the foster community. She loves my stories, and she’s so damn proud of me, and as much as I would’ve loved to drag her along to meet everyone, I’ve never asked her. I’ve never wanted to put her in a position where she’s forced to relive parts of her childhood she wishes never happened.

But this, inviting the kids to be a part of our family skate, to help decorate the tree at the arena, it was her idea.

“I don’t want to remember what it feels like to go unnoticed,” she admits quietly. “To feel unwanted. But then I don’t think the memory has ever really been far, and I guess I’m just…dreading seeing myself in someone else, someone small and perfect and innocent who deserves to be the center of somebody’s world. Someone who shouldn’t have to be wondering how they can change themselves, make themselves more lovable so somebody will choose them.”

She’s got the biggest heart, my Rosie, and it shows in every one of her decisions, every thought that wanders through her head. I know she’s passed that quality onto her son, too, because Connor reaches up, laying his hand on her cheek, and tells her, “Conn’a choose Mama.”

She kisses the inside of his palm. “I choose you, too, Connor.”

“I think spending some time with these kids when you’ve had such heavy emotions surrounding the foster system is brave of you, Rosie. But you don’t always have to be brave. If it ever becomes too much, you can step away, okay? Just let me know whether you want to step away by yourself, or with me. I’ll support you however you need to be supported.”

Grateful eyes look up at me. “Thank you.”

Chestnut pigtails catch my eye, and I find Lily hovering by herself in the corner, watching Connor, Rosie, and me. When I wave at her, her ears burn bright red, and she looks away.

“That must be Lily,” Rosie murmurs. “Why don’t you go say hi? Connor and I will make our way out to the ice with the others and wait for you on the bench.” She drops a kiss to my lips and stands on shaky legs, looping one arm through Jaxon’s as Garrett scoops Connor up, and I watch them disappear.

Lily twines a pigtail around her finger, scuffing at the floor as I approach her.

“Hey, Lily-bug. I’m happy to see you.”

Brown eyes dart to mine. “Was that your family?”

“Yeah, that was Rosie and Connor. Do you want to meet them?”

She lifts a shoulder. “I don’t want to bother them.”

“You wouldn’t be bothering them.”

“It’s okay. I’ll just stay here.”

I frown. “You’re not gonna skate?”

“I don’t know how.”

“Well, I’ll teach you.” I hold my hand out to her. “C’mon. Let’s go find a pair of skates that fit those teensy feet of yours.”

“Will you promise not to let go of my hand? I’m afraid of falling.”

I hold up two fingers in a promise. “I will not let go of your hand unless you ask me to.” You can trust me, Lily.”

Her nose wrinkles, and slowly, she slides her tiny hand into mine. “I trust you, Adam.”

I’m not sure what I’ve done in this life to deserve her trust, but I know I’m never going to do anything to break it.

With a pair of skates on her feet, a helmet on her head, and her hand in mine, we walk through the tunnel and out to the rink.

“Adam !” Rosie screams, the biggest smile I’ve ever seen splitting her cheeks as she clings to Olivia and Garrett, gliding along with them. “Look! I’m doing it! I’m skating!”

“Dada !” Connor waves from the ice, where he holds onto the little red skating aid, Emmett holding onto it from the other side as Connor takes tiny, quick steps. “Dada, hi! Conn’a pay hockey!”

“Look at you, little trouble! You’re doing it! And Mama too!”

“They’re just learning too?” Lily asks, tugging on my hand. “Like me?”

“Just like you, sweetheart.”

Her chest puffs. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

“That’s my girl,” I whoop, stepping onto the ice.

Lily freezes at the last second, dropping my hand and hugging the boards. “No. Wait. I’m scared.”

I crouch down in front of her. “That’s okay. Sometimes the best things in life are a little scary. We can do them at our own pace. There’s no rush.”

She peeks around me, watching all the kids zipping around the ice, having fun, and then those ginormous brown eyes come to mine. “I think maybe if you held me, that might be okay. Can you do that?”

As if I’d ever be able to say no to her.

I scoop her into my arms, sitting her on my hip, and she clings to my neck as I glide onto the ice.

“Don’t go too fast,” she whispers, and when I do a little spin, she giggles. “This is kinda fun.”

Carter skates up beside us, Ireland in his arms, her outfit complete with her tiny helmet, Daddy jersey, and the teensiest skates I’ve ever seen while she chomps on a silicone hockey skate teether. “Hey, Lil. Wanna go for a spin with me? I’m way faster than Adam.”

She shakes her head, hugging me tighter. “I want to stay with him. You talk too much.”

“Wow,” Carter mutters as I bark a laugh. “A dagger right through the heart. I don’t talk too much, Ireland, baby, do I?”

“You absolutely do,” Olivia answers as she joins us, holding Rosie’s hand.

“Look at you,” I murmur, pulling Rosie into my free side. “Managed to ditch Garrett, huh?”

“And Olivia said it didn’t feel like I was crushing the bones in her hand anymore!”

Olivia laughs. “You’re a much better student than Cara. It took me weeks to teach her.”

“I wasn’t motivated enough,” Cara says, skating in a wobbly circle around us. “Emmett was already obsessed with me. I showed him how I won the award for most tacos eaten in five minutes in university, and he dropped to his knees and begged me to marry him.”

Cara, Olivia, and Carter skate away, and Rosie smiles at Lily.

“Hi, Lily. Adam’s told me so much about you. I’m Rosie.”

Her cheeks flame, and her legs grip my waist tighter as she mumbles, “I like your pink hair.”

“Thank you. It was my mom’s favorite color.”

“Is your mama in heaven?”

Rosie’s eyes flicker. “She is.”

“Mine too.”

She hesitates, then tentatively reaches forward, squeezing her arm. “You must miss her very much.”

“I miss her butterfly kisses the most,” Lily whispers. She taps her nose. “She gave me them right here whenever I was sad or scared.”

A small smile hooks the corner of Rosie’s mouth. “My mom used to give me those too.”

Lily’s face lights. “Really? So you know how to give ’em?”

“I do.”

“Maybe if you give me one, then I won’t be scared to skate.” She looks between us, excitement bubbling, then dying just as fast as she shrinks into herself. “Unless you don’t want to. You don’t have to. Maybe I should sit on the bench.”

Rosie steps forward on two wobbly feet, taking Lily’s face in her hands. My heart thumps a heavy, unsteady beat as I watch her press featherlight kisses along the bridge of Lily’s crinkling nose, watch that little girl’s smile burst like sunshine.

“I think I could try skating now. I feel kinda brave right now.”

When I set her on her feet, she slips a hand each into mine and Rosie’s, and Rosie’s eyes come to mine. The way they dance says it all: she’s in love, which is pretty much exactly what I figured would happen when these two met. After all, it’s been the same for me since that first time Lily slid over on the couch, asked me to read to her.

“I tried taking steps at first too,” Rosie says as Lily clomps between us. “But Olivia told me to try to keep my feet on the ice and wiggle my bum and hips a little bit.”

“Like this?” Lily shimmies her hips, looking up at Rosie as we slowly glide forward.

“Just like that.”

“I’m doing it,” she whispers. “I’m really doing it! Look at me!”

“You’re doing so great, Lily-bug.” I smile at Rosie. “You both are.”

“Dada !” Connor races toward me with his skate aid, Emmett’s hands on either side of him. “Dada!

“Buddy! Look at you!”

“He’s fast as fuck,” Emmett says, stopping Connor before he crashes into us. “I mean, fast as…fuck.” He cringes. “I’ll try better next time, I swear.” Crouching down, he holds his hand up, grinning when Connor slaps it. “Thanks for skating with me, dude!”

“Bye, dude!”

“Oh my gosh.” Lily wriggles free from our grasp, putting her hands on her knees as she crouches down to Connor’s level. “Hi, Connor. You’re so cute. I’m Lily. Can you say Lily?”

“Woooah-ho-ho. Lily! Hug? Conn’a hug Lily?” He spreads his arms wide and steps into her, and the two of them go tumbling to the ice, a giggling mess.

“I think he likes me! I can be your best friend, okay, Connor?”

I pick the two of them up, setting them on their feet, and Lily takes his hand in hers.

“C’mon, Connor. I’ll keep you safe, okay? Your mom gave me butterfly kisses, so I’m super brave right now.”

“Yeah! Bwave!”

“Be careful, you two,” Rosie says, sliding her hand into mine as we glide slowly behind them, watching their quick, teensy steps in their skates. “Not too fast, okay?”

Warm, mossy eyes come to mine, and she grins that goofy, magnificent grin. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh? Uh-oh what?”

“Uh-oh, I think I just fell in love.”

One of the things I love about Rosie is that she doesn’t just fall. She’s a head-over-heels, all-in, whole-world type of lover. If I hadn’t already been sure of it, I certainly would be now. Because in the week following the family skate, Rosie hasn’t stopped talking about a certain brown-haired girl who stole her heart.

“Are the kids allowed to go out with families?” she asks as we stroll through the mall, on the hunt for a gown for her to wear to my Christmas gala next week. It’s the first of its kind, an extension of sorts to the tree lighting ceremony my charity, The Family Project, holds every year. Except this one is a fancy dinner and dance, involves alcohol, and costs a fuckton more money. But it’s a night out for us, and I can’t wait to see Rosie in her dress, and then peel it off her later.

“You’re thinking of Lily again.”

“Maybe she’d like to go for a hike with us and the dogs. Something casual, a change of scenery.”

That’s the first suggestion. The next five hundred roll in, in quick succession, and I don’t think she even pauses to breathe.

“Oh! I know! We can go to the suspension bridge again and see all the Christmas lights! She’ll love that!”

“We could take her out for a pancake breakfast and hot chocolate.”

“Or dessert. Everyone loves dessert!”

“Oh, hey, there’s that new Disney movie coming out. Maybe we can take her in the new year.”

“What about the train at Stanley Park?”

“Do you think she likes buses as much as Connor?”

“I know she loves doing her loom bracelets. What else does she like? Does she like to paint or color?”

I follow her through a store, watching as she gushes over gorgeous dresses and then talks herself out of them, telling herself it won’t work on her body. Each one she puts back, I hang over my arm, and she just keeps keeping on with ideas for Lily.

“Can I ask you something?” She spins around, frowning when she sees my armful of gowns. “Adam, what are you doing with all those?”

“Is that what you wanted to ask me?”

“No, I—Those won’t suit me. I’m too…I have too much…”

“There’s nothing about you that’s too much, Rosie. Everything about you is just right. You love these dresses, so you’re going to try them on, and if you hate them, that’s that. But give them a chance.”

“Bossy,” she mumbles, sorting through another rack. She pulls out a satin crimson dress with thin straps and a thigh-high slit, her eyes lighting. “Excuse me, could I bother you to check if you have this in a twelve?” she asks one of the sales attendants.

“Absolutely.” She takes the dresses from me. “And I’ll get a fitting room started for you.”

Rosie brushes her bangs aside. I helped her touch up her hair yesterday, and the normal coppery pink is more vibrant, a stunning shade against the golden freckles on her nose and cheekbones. “What would you think about having Lily join us for Christmas? She could come over in the morning and we could put some presents under the tree for her. I know they do that stuff at the home, but…I don’t know.” She drops her gaze, mindlessly runs her fingers along a shimmery dress. “I want her to feel special. I hated Christmas without a family. It felt so lonely, even though I was surrounded by so many people.”

“Yes.”

“Yes? Yes, you’ll think about it, or—”

“Yes, let’s have her over for Christmas. I’ll check with her social worker to make sure it’s allowed and if it’s something she’d be up for.”

Her gaze rises to mine, thoughtful, curious. Slowly, she slides her arms around my waist, pressing up on her toes to touch her lips to mine. “Thank you.”

I’m about to coax her mouth wide open, see if she’ll let me slide my tongue in there for just a quick taste, but a throat clears beside us.

“I’m sorry,” the sales associate apologizes. “We don’t have any twelves left, but I do have some tens. Would you like to try one?”

“Oh shoot. That was my favorite. Um…” Rosie drums her fingertips against her chin, then waves a hand through the air. “That’s okay. It probably won’t fit.”

The sales attendant holds the dress up next to Rosie and glances at me. We both nod.

Rosie looks up at us with hopeful eyes. “Yeah? You think?” She waves off my reply before I can give it. “No.” She frowns. “Okay, maybe. What the hell, right?”

The sales attendant leads us back to the fitting rooms, and I collapse into a plush, oversized chair as Rosie disappears into her little room. There are at least twenty women roaming this store, and the only other man is sitting on the opposite side of the changeroom, buried under a pile of dresses, watching sports updates on his phone from what I can hear. He looks at me, and I give him a half wave that he returns with a nod and the bump of his fist twice against his chest.

Solidarity, brother, he mouths.

I scroll aimlessly through my phone while I wait for Rosie, checking in with Carter to see how Connor’s doing over at their place. When five minutes turn to ten, and Rosie’s silence turns to grunts, I make my way to her door and knock gently.

“Everything okay in there?”

“Um…yeah. No. I think…I think this dress is…not for me.”

“Let’s see.”

“Um…no. No thanks. I think I need to go up a size.”

“Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“Or something less revealing, maybe.”

Less revealing? I’m totally not proud of the way my dick rises to attention, like his presence has just been requested. I press a little closer to the door, mostly because I want in but also because I don’t want my buddy over there to see the hard-on I’m suddenly sporting.

I knock again, lowering my voice to a whisper. “Lemme see, baby. I bet you look perfect.”

The door cracks open, and Rosie steps aside, eyes trained on the floor as she lets me in. I close the door behind me, my gaze falling down her body in that tight little dress.

She tucks her hair behind her ear and gestures at the body I can’t take my eyes off, the one filling every inch of satin so flawlessly, sending a rush of blood to my throbbing cock. “Curse of the mom bod, am I right?” She forces a chuckle, and when I don’t say anything, her eyes come to mine, delicate voice cracking. “Adam? Why aren’t you saying anything?” She reaches for the zipper on her back. “This was silly. I can’t pull something like this off. I don’t have the body—”

She gasps as I push her against the wall, jaw grasped between my fingers. Wide green eyes stare up at me, her cheeks flushed with the same heat that pulses through me.

“I mean this in the politest way possible, Rosie, I swear, but for the love of God, shut up. And if you don’t, if you say one more thing about this body that isn’t praising how fucking exquisite it is, I’m going to do us both a favor and shut you up with my cock in your mouth.”

My hand slips to her throat, squeezing it gently, holding her in place as I dip my head and drink her in once more. Crimson satin squeezes her waist, stretching across her full hips. The slit up her thigh is sky-high, begging my hand to slip below and find out how warm she is, how wet. My eyes climb up, zeroing in on the deep plunge in her cleavage, the heave of her full, plush tits. The tip of my finger skims her side, runs up the center of her chest, traces the swell of her breasts, along her collarbone and to that dainty strap that hangs off her shoulder. I slip my finger below it, toying with it, before I grip it and haul her forward.

“Feel like making some noise for me, trouble?”

Her eyes dart to the door. “Here? But—oooh .”

“Good start, angel,” I hum, stroking her pussy through her panties. “I’m gonna take these off, okay?”

She nods frantically and lifts her foot, like she thinks I’m gonna slip them off. Instead, I ball the flimsy lace in my fist and rip.

“Oops.”

“Asshole,” she breathes, hiking her leg around my hip as I drag my hands up her thighs, gripping two fistfuls of her ass.

“Aw, see, I was gonna be nice and fuck you slow and gentle so you could keep quiet.” I shove the dress up over her hips, and a shiver races down my spine at the sound it makes when it rips. “Now I think I’ll make sure everyone in here knows my name.”

“Adam—”

“Louder, baby.” I plunge two fingers inside her wet pussy. “Let them know who your pussy is soaked for.”

“Oh God .” She tears at my coat, yanking it off my body, pulling at the buttons of my shirt, and rolling her pelvis against my hand when I return it between her legs.

“Adam, baby. Not God. How many times do I have to tell you?” I steal her mouth, drowning her moans with my tongue, nipping along the edge of her jaw until I find her ear. “Or do you need me to fuck it into you?”

“Yes,” she whimpers, pulling at my belt buckle, yanking down my zipper. “Please.”

“Tell me how perfect this body is,” I demand, teasing her clit with the head of my cock. “Tell me and you can have my cock.”

“Fuck,” she rasps, watching my cock slip through her slit.

“Tell me .”

“Perfect,” she cries. “My body is perfect.”

“And who does it belong to?”

“You,” she whimpers, breathless as I push inside her.

“And this pussy? Who’s fucking it? Who owns it?”

“You, Adam. God, you .”

“That’s my good fucking girl, Rosie.”

My fingers slide up the back of her neck, grabbing the hair at her nape as I hold her against the wall and fuck her. Her nails rake down my shoulders as she lifts her hips, urging me deeper, harder. My hand glides along her shoulder, grabbing hold of that delicate strap. I pull, ripping it, and her incredible tits spring free, bouncing in my face as she rides me.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece, sweetheart. Made just for me, I swear to God.” I pull her head taut, bringing those eyes to mine. “I’m gonna worship this body for the rest of my life.”

“Please,” she begs. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“Couldn’t if I tried.” I drop my forehead to hers as I drive myself forward, over and over, the door shaking on its hinges. “Christ, Rosie. You’re so tight, so fucking wet, squeezing me so good.”

Palming her breast, I suck her nipple into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue, pulling it gently between my teeth as she writhes and cries, pleading for more.

“I’m gonna come. Adam, I’m gonna…oooh fuck. Please, Adam.”

“You’re asking so nicely.” I drag my mouth up her throat as pressure settles in the base of my spine, my balls tightening. Grabbing the backs of her knees, I hike her legs up against her sides, pushing them wider, plunging as deep as I can, until my name leaves her mouth on a loud gasp. “Fucking Christ , I never thought I’d love hearing my name so much.”

Her head lolls over her shoulder, hooded and dazed eyes hooked on mine as I pummel into her, savoring the way she squeezes around me as she fights for air.

“Hold on,” I demand, as my orgasm barrels down my spine.

She shakes her head, squeezing me tighter.

“Hold the fuck on, Rosie.”

“I-I…I can’t. Oh fuck , Adam. Oh God . Please .” She lifts her hips, and when I pound into her, she explodes around me, crying out my name, dragging hers from my throat as I empty myself inside her, my palm slamming against the wall.

“Fuck , Rosie.”

Her heaving body goes limp in my arms, and I struggle for air as I grin down at her damp face, kissing her swollen lips.

Five minutes later, when we’re dressed and the changeroom is…well, it’s as clean as one would reasonably expect, we exit the changeroom.

All five sales associates, a handful of women, and my buddy, who’s still sitting in the chair under a mountain of clothes, stare at us, speechless and slack jawed.

I hold up the hanger with the shredded dress. “We’ll take two, please.”