Homecoming surprise
Stella's Pov:::
Reaching for the crumpled comforter, I tighten the sheet across the bed. It would have been better if I had come in here earlier. This room is covered in dust and desperately needs a thorough cleaning.
However, I have no choice but to settle for remaking the bed as Brad will be arriving any moment. I let out a sigh. The dust may bother me, but it certainly won't bother liam. My son has never shown much concern for the cleanliness of his room. Nevertheless, I make a mental note to give this room a good scrub before he returns home for the summer.
With more force than usual, I vigorously shake out the blanket to dislodge any accumulated dust. As it settles, a gust of air sends papers flying off Brad's bulletin board. I shake my head in exasperation.
Typical. After finishing making the bed, I proceed to reorganize the disturbed papers on his desk and retrieve the items that fell behind it. Although I can feel the edge of a couple of papers with my arm, it falls short of reaching them.
Hindered by Brad's old hockey sticks that are in the way, I carefully attempt to retrieve the papers without knocking the sticks over. I stretch, reaching out... and with a crash, the hockey sticks fall to the side, causing me to lose my balance and slip onto the floor. Ouch. Despite this mishap, I manage to retrieve the papers.
I retrieve my treasures from behind the desk and examine them. One is a newspaper article highlighting my son's high school hockey team. It details their victory in the state championships during his senior year. The other item I rescued is a photograph, and as I pull it out from behind the article, I immediately feel a blush spread across my face.
The picture features Brad and his best friend, Trevor King. It must have been taken sometime last year. Trevor and Brad were inseparable throughout high school, with Brad spending more time at our house than in his own.
However, in their senior year, Trevor family relocated to a different part of Boston, and I didn't see him again until he visited for a day last year around this time.
That visit makes my whole body fill with remembered embarrassment, as the way my body reacted when I saw Trevor again was…not appropriate. He had filled out, grown into himself. He was sexy. And Twenty. He and Brad are still best friends, and they play on the hockey team at Boston College together, but I rarely see him.
I stare at the picture. A woman my age probably shouldn't describe people as hot…but my god Trevor King is hot. I think about all the times he stole into my fantasies, even when I tried to keep him out. But that's all they were. Fantasies. Harmless fantasies about what he would look like under all his clothes, what he would look like over me, what he would look like-
Stop.
My body is already warming with just those thoughts, and I can't. Brad will be here soon and I can't be hot and bothered by his best friend. It's wrong on so many levels. I pin the article and the picture back to the bulletin board and pick up the hockey sticks I knocked over.
Looking around the room, I see so many things I could do to make it just a little cleaner. I won't be able to finish any of those things by the time Brad gets here though, so I decide to leave it alone.
I head into my office next door-stepping over the mattresses I've set out for my nephews-and check my e-mails. This time of the holidays it's slow. I have a conference call with a client tomorrow, but nothing else is urgent. But speaking of urgent, I send a text to my sister reminding her to bring butter for tonight's dinner.
I haven't had a chance to get to the store, and we're going to need it. My email pings and I see an email from a new client asking when we can schedule a call to talk about their new marketing plan. I'm checking my calendar as I hear a key in the lock downstairs. A smile comes to my face. Brad is finally here.
"Mom?" Brad calls.
"I'm up here," I call back.
I hear the shuffling of luggage and footsteps on the stairs as I check my calendar, and send a quick email so this isn't nagging me. I hear Brad get into his room, and as I step into the hallway, I hear him laugh. Then I hear another voice, a distinctly deep and male voice. So my son isn't here alone. Okay…
Probably just a friend from school for the day. I step into the doorway of Brad's room and tap my knuckles on the door. "Knock knock," I say, and I have to keep my jaw from dropping, because I'm now face to face with Trevor King.
"Hey mom!" Brad crosses the room and sweeps me into a hug. I hug him back, that particular warmth of having my son home and safe filling me up. There's a small anxiety whenever he's away, like an itch I barely notice. But as glad as I am to have him home, I'm still beyond shocked to see Trevor here. Trevor, the guy I was just thinking about. The universe must be laughing at me right now.
I'm looking at him over Brad's shoulder, and he gives me a tiny little smile that's damn sexy. Like he knows exactly what I'm thinking. My stomach plummets and I pull away from Brad, managing a smile. "I'm glad you're here," I say.
"Thanks," he says. "Mom, you remember Trevor, right?"
"Or course I do," I say, my smile still in place. I remember him in lots of fantasies that should have never have happened.
