CONCRETE

Luke’s summer practices were usually quiet.

There were no roaring crowds, no flashing cameras pressed against the glass, and no pressure hanging over every shift. Just the sharp scrape of blades against fresh ice, the echo of pucks hitting the boards, and the occasional argument between brothers who were physically incapable of being in the same rink without turning everything into a competition.

That afternoon, Jim had been at the rink for a few hours so Luke, Jack, and Quinn could skate together while they were all home in Michigan.

It had started as a normal practice.

At least, that was what you had been told.

You had been sitting beside Ellen in the stands, one hand resting protectively over the small curve of your five-month pregnant stomach, while Cameron played with a miniature hockey stick near your feet.

Your three-year-old had spent most of the practice watching the ice with wide, fascinated eyes.

Every time Luke passed beneath the section where you were sitting, Cameron would press both hands against the glass.

“Daddy!” he shouted, even though Luke had already looked over at him at least twenty times. “Daddy, look!”

Luke always looked.

It didn’t matter whether he was in the middle of a drill or trying to steal the puck from Jack. The moment Cameron called for him, Luke’s head turned automatically.

Sometimes he waved, sometimes he blew a kiss. Once, he skated directly toward the glass and dramatically crashed against it, making Cameron shriek with laughter.

“You’re encouraging him,” you called when Luke pushed himself upright.

Luke grinned through the glass “That’s my job.”

Ellen laughed softly beside you. “He’s been waiting for this since Cameron was born.”

“For what?”

“To put him in skates.”

You immediately turned your head toward her, Ellen’s expression was far too innocent “What do you mean?”

Before she could answer, Cameron tugged on the hem of your sweater “Mommy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Can I skate with Daddy?” You looked from your son to the ice.

Luke had stopped near the boards. Jack and Quinn stood beside him, all three brothers attempting and failing to look like they hadn’t been waiting for Cameron to ask that exact question.

Jim was near the bench, holding something behind his back, you narrowed your eyes “No.”

Luke’s shoulders dropped immediately.

Cameron blinked up at you “No?”

“Not without proper equipment,” you clarified quickly, crouching as carefully as your stomach allowed. “You’re only three, sweetheart.”

“I’m big.”

“You are very big,” you agreed, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. “But the ice is slippery.”

“I won’t fall.”

From behind the glass, Jack made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. You looked at him, he immediately pretended to be checking his stick.

Luke opened the door near the bench and stepped off the ice.

His cheeks were flushed from practice, curls damp around his forehead, and there was an unmistakably guilty smile on his face.

You crossed your arms “Luke.”

“Hi, beautiful.”

“Don’t ‘hi, beautiful’ me.”

“I always say hi to you.”

“You planned this.”

Luke glanced at Cameron, h stared back at him with enormous blue eyes. The two of them had the exact same guilty expression “I may have brought some things,” Luke admitted.

Jim finally revealed what he had been hiding behind his back.

A tiny pair of skates.

You stared at them, they were so small they almost looked like toys and beside them sat a hockey bag you were certain hadn’t been there when you arrived.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

“It’s safe,” Luke promised quickly. “He has full equipment. Pads, gloves, helmet—everything.”

“A caged helmet,” Jim added helpfully.

You looked at Jim, he smiled, you looked at Ellen while she raised both hands. “I wasn’t involved in the planning.”

“You knew.”

“I suspected.”

“Mommy,” Cameron whispered. You looked down, he had moved closer, wrapping both arms around one of your legs “Please?”

You tried to remain firm, you truly did but Cameron’s bottom lip trembled slightly, and behind him Luke looked like an overgrown version of the same pleading little boy.

“You’ll stay with Daddy the entire time,” you said at last.

Cameron gasped, Luke’s entire face brightened “And with Grandpa,” you continued. “And Uncle Quinn and Uncle Jack. You do not go anywhere alone.”

“I won’t!” Cameron promised.

“You listen the first time someone tells you something.”

“I listen.”

Luke coughed into his fist, you pointed at him. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it loudly.”

Jack leaned over the boards. “He definitely got the listening skills from Luke.”

“Shut up,” Luke called.

Cameron looked between them. “Daddy said shut up.” Luke froze, Quinn immediately turned away to hide his laughter, you stared at your husband.

Luke winced. “Daddy shouldn’t have said that.”

“Daddy says bad words,” Cameron informed you seriously.

“Okay.” Luke quickly scooped him into his arms. “Let’s go get dressed before you tell Mommy anything else.”

“I already know everything,” you called after them.

Luke looked over his shoulder “I love you!”

“You’re in trouble!”

“I still love you!”

Cameron twisted in Luke’s arms and blew you an exaggerated kiss “I love you too, Mommy!”

Your irritation softened instantly, Ellen nudged your shoulder. “You never stood a chance.”

“No,” you admitted. “I really didn’t.”

The small locker room beside the rink had been prepared suspiciously well.

Cameron’s equipment was spread neatly across one of the benches: padded pants, shoulder pads, elbow pads, shin guards, tiny gloves, and a helmet with a full cage.

Luke had clearly spent time choosing everything.

You sat on the bench while Cameron stood between your knees in his base layer, bouncing excitedly as Luke attempted to explain the equipment.

“These protect your knees,” Luke said, holding up the shin guards.

“And my bones?”

“Exactly.”

“And these?”

“Elbow pads.”

“For my elbow bones?”

Luke nodded solemnly. “Very important elbow bones.”

Cameron accepted this explanation without question. You reached for one of the shin guards, fastening it carefully around his little leg “Hold still for Mommy.”

Cameron immediately leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek, you smiled despite yourself “What was that for?”

“Because I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

He kissed your other cheek “And you’re pretty.”

Luke, who had been tying one of the tiny skates, smiled to himself. You caught the expression “This is your fault.”

“What is?”

“You taught him this.”

Luke looked offended. “I taught our son to appreciate his mother.”

“You taught him to tell me I’m pretty whenever he wants something.”

Cameron placed both hands on your cheeks “You’re always pretty.”

Your heart nearly melted straight through your chest, Luke pointed toward him. “See? He means it.”

Cameron kissed the tip of your nose “Mommy is the prettiest.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” You wrapped your arms around him as much as the growing baby and bulky equipment allowed, pressing a kiss into his soft hair.

Cameron hugged you back, his padded arms making the embrace awkward and adorable “I love Mommy,” he announced.

Luke leaned closer. “What else do we do?”

Cameron pulled back immediately, he kissed your cheek again “We kiss Mommy.”

“And?”

“We tell Mommy she’s pretty.”

“And?”

Cameron thought hard, Luke waited patiently “Bring Mommy snacks?”

You burst out laughing, Luke nodded proudly. “That’s my boy.”

“You have created a monster,” you said.

“A respectful monster.”

Cameron patted your stomach “Baby loves Mommy too.”

Your expression softened “Yes, the baby loves Mommy.”

“And Daddy?”

You glanced at Luke.

Luke was watching you with that quiet, affectionate expression he had developed more often during your second pregnancy. His gaze frequently drifted toward your stomach now, as though he still couldn’t quite believe you were doing this again.

“The baby loves Daddy too,” you said.

Cameron leaned down and kissed your stomach through your sweater “Hi, baby.”

Luke’s face changed immediately, his smile softened, becoming almost unbearably tender.

Cameron spoke directly to your belly “I’m skating today. Daddy says I’m gonna be good.”

“Daddy hopes you’re going to be good,” you corrected.

“I know he will be,” Luke said, you looked at him, Luke shrugged. “It’s genetic.”

“You mean because of me?”

“Obviously.”

Jack appeared in the doorway “Are you two done taking credit for a three-year-old who hasn’t touched the ice yet?”

Cameron lifted one padded arm “Uncle Jack!”

Jack walked over and crouched in front of him “Look at you, Cam. You look like a real player.”

“I have elbow bones.”

Jack glanced at Luke, Luke nodded as if that explained everything “Very important,” Jack agreed.

Quinn entered behind him, already wearing his gloves again “You ready buddy?”

Cameron nodded enthusiastically, then he looked at you. His excitement wavered “Mommy comes?”

“I’ll be watching from the stands.”

“You’re not skating?”

You placed a hand over your stomach “Not today, sweetheart.”

Cameron looked down at your belly “Because baby?”

“Because Mommy needs to be careful with the baby.”

He considered this for a moment before nodding. Then he climbed carefully into your lap—or attempted to, despite the amount of protective equipment separating you.

You supported him under his arms, Cameron pressed three quick kisses across your cheek “One for Mommy,” he explained.

Another kiss “One for baby.”

Then another “One because you’re pretty.”

Luke put a hand over his heart “I’ve never been prouder.”

You laughed and kissed Cameron’s forehead before Luke carefully lowered the caged helmet over his head. Only Cameron’s eyes and round cheeks were visible behind the bars, he blinked “Can you see?” you asked.

“Yes.”

“Can you breathe?”

“Yes.”

“Is anything uncomfortable?”

“No.”

Luke adjusted the chin strap “How does it feel, buddy?”

Cameron’s voice echoed slightly inside the cage “Like Daddy.”

Luke went completely still.

Your heart squeezed.

Cameron looked so small in all that equipment, but the resemblance was suddenly unmistakable. The bright eyes. The excited smile. The way he looked at Luke as though there was no one in the world he admired more.

Luke cleared his throat “Yeah?”

Cameron nodded “I’m a hockey player like you.”

Luke kissed the top of his helmet “You can be anything you want.”

“But hockey?”

“Hockey too.”

Cameron held up his glove, Luke bumped it with his own “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The moment Cameron’s skates touched the ice, he nearly folded in half, Luke caught him instantly “I got you,” Luke said, both hands securely beneath Cameron’s arms. “I’ve got you.”

Cameron’s tiny skates slid in opposite directions. His knees bent awkwardly “I’m falling!”

“You’re not falling. Daddy has you.”

“I’m falling slowly!”

From the stands, Ellen laughed so hard she had to wipe beneath her eyes. You had one hand pressed over your mouth, caught between amusement and concern “Luke, hold him properly!”

“I am holding him!”

“He looks like a baby deer!”

“That’s normal!”

Jim skated over slowly “Keep his knees bent a little.”

“They are bent,” Luke said.

“They’re collapsing,” Quinn corrected, Jack rested both hands on his stick. “This is going great.”

Luke shot him a glare “Go away.”

Cameron turned his helmet toward Jack “Daddy said go away.”

Jack’s mouth twitched “Your dad says a lot of things.”

Luke carefully moved behind Cameron, holding both of his hands “Okay, buddy. We’re going to stand.”

“I am standing.”

“You’re leaning on me.”

“That’s standing.”

Quinn laughed under his breath, Luke ignored him “Put your feet like this.”

He gently guided Cameron’s skates into position, for one brief second, Cameron balanced. His eyes widened “Mommy!”

You immediately leaned closer to the glass “I see you!”

“I’m doing it!”

“You are!”

Cameron’s skates slid again, Luke caught him beneath the arms before he could touch the ice “I fell.”

“You almost fell,” Luke corrected.

“Did Mommy see?”

You pressed your palm against the glass “Mommy saw you stand all by yourself.”

Cameron beamed, Luke looked toward you, his expression proud enough to make your chest ache, You mouthed, Be careful. Luke nodded, then he mouthed back, I love you.

You rolled your eyes, but you smiled.

For the next several minutes, Luke slowly guided Cameron along the ice, their progress could barely be described as skating.

Cameron mostly shuffled while Luke moved him forward, but every few feet Luke loosened his grip just enough for Cameron to support a fraction of his own weight.

Jim stayed close on one side, Quinn skated backward in front of them, encouraging Cameron to look up rather than stare at his feet.

Jack, naturally, provided commentary “Fastest Hughes already.”

“He’s moved six feet,” Quinn said.

“Still faster than Luke.”

Luke reached out and shoved Jack as he passed, Jack glided away laughing. Cameron giggled so hard his knees buckled, Luke caught him again.

“Uncle Jack is funny.”

“Uncle Jack is annoying.”

“Annoying,” Cameron repeated.

You pointed through the glass. “Luke!”

“I’m sorry!”

Ellen leaned toward you “He’s going to repeat every single thing they say.”

“I know.”

“You married into it.”

“I know.”

“And now you’re having another one.”

You rested your hand over your stomach, despite your dramatic sigh, you couldn’t stop smiling “we are.”

On the ice, Luke positioned Cameron between his skates “All right,” he said. “We’re going to glide to Mommy.”

Cameron immediately looked toward you “To Mommy?”

“To Mommy.”

Luke pushed off gently, Cameron squealed as they moved across the ice together, Luke controlling the pace from behind him. It was slow, barely faster than walking, but to Cameron it clearly felt like flying.

His arms lifted “Mommy, look!”

“I’m looking!”

“I’m fast!”

“So fast!”

“Faster than Daddy!”

Jack shouted, “That’s right, Cam!”

Luke turned his head. “Whose side are you on?”

“Cameron’s.”

“Everybody’s on Cameron’s side,” Quinn said.

“That’s because he’s cute,” Jim added, Luke looked down at his son, Cameron was still staring toward the stands, grinning behind the cage. Luke’s expression softened “Yeah,” he said quietly. “He really is.”

When they reached the boards in front of you, Luke stopped carefully. Cameron pressed both gloves against the glass “Mommy!”

You pressed your hand against the other side “You did so well.”

“I skated.”

“You did.”

“With Daddy.”

“I saw.”

Cameron leaned his helmet against the glass, you mirrored him from the other side “I love you, Mommy.”

Your eyes stung unexpectedly, pregnancy hormones, you told yourself. Probably “I love you too, Cameron.”

“You’re pretty.” Luke laughed behind him, you looked over Cameron’s helmet toward your husband.

Luke’s cheeks were pink, his hair curling around his forehead, and his eyes were shining with unmistakable happiness.

This was what he had wanted, not simply to teach his son how to skate.

He wanted to share this part of himself with Cameron, the rink, the ice, the feeling of moving across it for the first time. He wanted to give your little boy the same memories he had with Jim, Jack, and Quinn.

And watching him now, so patient and careful with Cameron, you remembered exactly why agreeing to another baby hadn’t been nearly as frightening as you once imagined it might be.

After Cameron had been born, you and Luke had spent months exhausted.

There had been sleepless nights, teething, fevers, and days where neither of you knew what you were doing.

But Cameron had grown into the sweetest little person you had ever known.

He was affectionate and curious and endlessly talkative. He loved his family with his entire heart and made sure everyone knew it.

Luke had been hesitant when you first brought up having another baby.

Not because he didn’t want one but because he worried.

He worried about balancing hockey and fatherhood. He worried you would have to carry too much alone when he traveled. He worried Cameron might feel replaced.

Then Cameron had climbed into Luke’s lap one evening, placed both hands on his father’s cheeks, and asked whether he could have a baby to love.

Luke had looked at you over Cameron’s head, you had known the conversation was already over. It hadn’t taken much convincing after that.

Especially not when Cameron added, “Mommy makes good babies.”

You had nearly choked on your water, Luke had laughed for ten minutes. Now, with your second child moving gently beneath your hand, you watched Luke teach your first baby how to skate.

You couldn’t imagine anything more perfect, Cameron became braver after his first trip across the ice.

Too brave that he wanted Luke to let go.

“No,” Luke said.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“I’m big.”

“You’re three.”

“I’m almost four.”

“You turned three two months ago.”

“That’s almost four.”

Jack skated past them. “The math checks out.”

“It absolutely does not,” Quinn said.

Cameron pulled one hand out of Luke’s grip “Let go Daddy”

“Buddy, you’re not ready.”

“I am.”

Luke hesitated, you could see the internal battle happening from the stands. He wanted Cameron to feel confident but he also didn’t want him to fall.

Jim came closer “I’ll stand in front of him.”

Quinn moved to Cameron’s other side, Jack positioned himself behind Luke, mostly because he wanted to be included. Luke looked toward you and instantly you shook your head.

Luke held up one finger, you narrowed your eyes “One second,” he called.

“Luke.”

“I’ll catch him.”

“You’d better.”

Luke crouched behind Cameron “Okay. Daddy is going to let go for one second.” Cameron nodded eagerly.

“Grandpa is right there.”

Jim held out his hands “Come to me, Cam.”

“And Uncle Quinn is beside you.” Quinn tapped Cameron’s helmet gently “I’ve got you.”

“And Uncle Jack—”

“Is here for moral support,” Jack said.

Luke sighed, he loosened his hands and for half a second, Cameron stood alone. Then one skate slid forward, his arms flew outward. Luke caught him around the waist before he hit the ice, Cameron screamed.

You stood immediately “Is he okay?”

“I caught him!” Luke called.

Cameron clung to his arms, his breathing came quickly. Luke dropped to one knee on the ice, holding him securely against his chest “You’re okay,” Luke murmured. “Daddy caught you.”

“I almost fell.”

“You almost did, but I had you.”

Cameron’s helmet rested against Luke’s shoulder “I don’t like falling.”

“I know.”

“Mommy said it was slippery.”

Luke glanced toward you “Mommy is usually right.”

“Usually?” you repeated “Always!” Luke corrected quickly.

Cameron remained tucked against him, Luke rubbed one hand slowly over the back of his tiny jersey “You don’t have to keep going,” he said. “We can stop.”

Cameron lifted his head “Stop skating?”

“Only for today.”

Cameron looked toward Jim, then Quinn, then Jack, finally, he looked at you through the glass. You gave him an encouraging smile “You did a lot already, sweetheart.”

Cameron was quiet, then he looked at Luke “Did you fall when you were little?”

“All the time.”

“Uncle Jack too?”

“More than me.”

“Hey,” Jack protested.

“Uncle Quinn?”

Luke nodded. “Even Quinn.”

Quinn lifted one hand. “It happens.”

“Grandpa?”

Jim smiled. “Everybody falls when they learn.”

Cameron considered this carefully. Then he straightened slightly in Luke’s arms “I wanna try again.”

Luke’s pride was immediate “Yeah?” Cameron nodded “But hold me.”

“I’ll hold you as long as you need.”

This time, Luke didn’t attempt to let go.

He kept both hands securely around Cameron’s waist while they shuffled slowly along the boards. Every few seconds, Cameron looked toward the stands to make sure you were still watching.

You always were, when he made it halfway around the rink, you clapped. Ellen clapped with you, Jack lifted his stick, Quinn tapped his glove against Cameron’s helmet and Jim cheered like Cameron had just scored an overtime winner.

Cameron’s entire face lit up “I did it!”

Luke lifted him into the air “You did it!”

Cameron laughed, his tiny skates dangling above the ice, then Luke tucked him against his chest, one arm beneath his padded legs “You ready to go see Mommy?”

“Yes!”

Luke carried him off the ice, back in the locker room, Cameron’s excitement finally began to fade into exhaustion.

He sat heavily on the bench while you removed his helmet, his curly hair was damp and flattened against his forehead. The moment the cage was gone, he leaned forward and kissed your cheek “You watched me.”

“Of course I watched you.”

“All the time?”

“All the time.”

He kissed your other cheek “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Luke sat beside him and began untying the tiny skates “You did really good today.”

“I almost fell.”

“But you tried again.”

Cameron nodded seriously “I’m brave.”

“You are very brave,” you said.

Luke removed one skate, then the other, Cameron immediately crawled into your lap. You adjusted him carefully around your stomach. He rested his head against your chest, still wearing most of his protective equipment “My little hockey player,” you murmured.

Cameron’s eyes were already beginning to close “Like Daddy.”

“Just like Daddy.”

Luke sat close beside you, he pressed a kiss to Cameron’s hair, then another to your temple “You okay?” he asked softly.

“I’m fine.”

“You stood up really fast when he slipped.”

“I was worried.”

“I had him.”

“I know.”

Luke rested one hand over your stomach, the baby moved beneath his palm, his eyes widened slightly “Was that—”

“Yes.”

Cameron lifted his head sleepily “Baby kicked?”

Luke smiled “Yeah.”

Cameron immediately put his hand beside Luke’s, the baby moved again and Cameron gasped “He likes skating.”

“Or she,” you reminded him.

Cameron frowned in concentration “She likes skating.”

Luke leaned closer to your stomach “You hear that? Your big brother is already planning your first practice.”

“You are not putting this baby in skates at three months old.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“You thought about it.”

“For half a second.”

“Luke.”

“I’m joking.”

Jim passed the open locker room door and overheard the conversation “I still have Quinn’s first pair of skates somewhere.”

You looked at him “No.”

He continued walking “Just saying.”

Ellen appeared behind him “Do not encourage them.”

“Thank you,” you said, Cameron snuggled deeper into your arms “Mommy?”

“Yes?”

“You’re pretty.” you looked down at him, his eyes were almost completely closed. Luke smiled beside you, even half asleep, your son remembered.

You kissed his forehead “Thank you, baby.”

“And baby is pretty.”

“Very pretty.”

“And Daddy?” Luke waited expectantly, Cameron opened one eye “Daddy is tall.”

You burst out laughing.

Luke stared at him “That’s all I get?”

“Tall,” Cameron repeated.

“And handsome?” Luke prompted.

Cameron’s eye closed again “No.”

Jack shouted from somewhere in the hallway, “Smart kid!”

Luke shook his head, you leaned over and kissed his cheek “I think you’re handsome.”

“You have to say that. You married me.”

“I didn’t have to marry you.”

“But you did.”

“I did.”

Luke kissed you softly, it was brief and sweet, careful not to disturb the sleepy toddler between you. When he pulled away, Cameron made a small noise “No kissing without me.”

Luke laughed, his arm came around your shoulders “Sorry, buddy.”

Cameron lifted his head just enough to kiss your cheek again, then he reached toward Luke and pressed a clumsy kiss against his jaw “Family kiss.”

Luke’s expression softened completely “Family kiss,” he agreed.

You pressed a kiss to Cameron’s hair, Luke kissed the top of your head. Cameron settled between you, safe and warm and surrounded by the people who loved him most.

A few minutes later, Luke carefully lifted him from your lap.

Cameron wrapped his arms around his father’s neck automatically, his face tucked against Luke’s shoulder

“You want me to carry the bag?” you asked, Luke looked at you as though you had suggested something ridiculous “You’re carrying my other baby.”

“I’m pregnant, not incapable.”

“I know.” He leaned down and kissed you again “But I’ve got it.”

With Cameron sleeping against one shoulder and the hockey bag hanging from his free hand, Luke followed you toward the exit.

Before leaving the locker room, he glanced back at the tiny skates sitting on the bench. His smile was quiet but unmistakably proud, you noticed “Already planning the next practice?”

“Maybe.”

“Luke.”

“I’ll wait at least a week.”

Cameron stirred against his shoulder “Tomorrow,” he mumbled sleepily.

Adopt me! Come by the Coronado Police Station this weekend to meet your new best friend!

Bradley pauses as he reads over the text, taking in the place, date, and time. Tomorrow morning, a fifteen-minute drive from his small two-bedroom house. He doesn't know why, but he reaches into his back pocket to take out his phone, snapping a quick picture. Bradley looks over his shoulder, seeing if anyone has caught him in the act. And just as quickly as he had stopped, he was off again.

The drive home should feel like any other; wind in his hair, aviators over his eyes blocking the rays of the setting sun, and soft classic rock from the radio. But Bradley couldn't help but feel like something was missing.

Phoenix went on and on today about how her family is visiting her for the weekend, saying how excited she is to see her parents again. Bradley smiled at her, genuinely happy at the news.

Bob had talked about staying in with his girlfriend this weekend, saying they were going to try out a new recipe of banana bread they saw on the Food Network earlier this week. Bradley had hummed, telling Bob to save him a slice and to bring it in on Monday.

Jake had even told Bradley about the long run he was going on with a few of the newest TOPGUN class recruits, saying he was going to put them through hell this weekend. Bradley just laughed and grimaced at this, thankful his time in the program hadn't been led by someone as ruthless as one of his best friends.

But as the keys hit the small dish on his counter, Bradley couldn't help but tune into the creaks and groans of his house. Nothing else, just the small and quiet sounds. Even as he cooked dinner that night, the boiling of the pasta seemed drowned out by the stillness of the kitchen, of everything that surrounded Bradley. The episode he had seen at least three times now seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Bradley only heard his breathing and the occasional dripping of the faucet.

The hot summer nights were grueling. Not only due to the heat of his sticky skin against the now warm sheet, but also because Bradley could hear every little bug from the window above his bed. Cicadas seemed to chirp, grasshoppers seemed to sing, and if he listened closely, he could even sometimes hear the buzzing of the fireflies. Too quiet, but so loud. Loudness from the wrong sounds, the ones nobody noticed. Loudness from the beating of his heart from underneath his skin. Loudness of the crinkling sheets beneath his grasp. Loudness from the unsteady breath that escaped his lips.

Reaching for his phone, Bradley looked at the most recent picture in his camera roll. Swiping out and clicking the clock icon, he set an alarm for 8 AM sharp.

જ⁀➴

Bradley pulls into the parking lot and takes in the sight around him. Cars are already packed in the lot, despite it only being 5 minutes since the adoption event started. Minivans and SUVs are taking up most of the spots; his Bronco seems out of place among the other cars. The California sun is barely starting to warm up the air, but Bradley knows in an hour he'll be thankful for the loose Hawaiian shirt he wears.

Off to the right side of the building, he can hear children laughing and dogs barking. Tucking his keys in his back pocket, he makes his way towards the noise.

Like he suspected, families are standing around chatting with volunteers in bright pink shirts, the same pink on the poster from the base. Kids are wide-eyed and fascinated with all of the dogs they see. It's not just German shepherds, but smaller dogs too, and all types of breeds. He wonders why his poster only had the proud-looking line-up when there were so many other options.

But like a man on a mission, Bradley peers over the crowd of people and spots K-9 in big black letters near the middle of the scene. Sending small smiles and tapping his left hand anxiously on the side of his thigh, Bradley weaves through the crowd. Taking in the well-behaved group of dogs before him, he settles down a bit. There's only one volunteer over in this area, a woman with her back turned away from him. It only settles him more, giving him the space to really look over the animals. Some of the dogs are panting, as if being out on the grass has somehow exhausted them. Others are playing with each other, rolling around, and showing their bellies. But one dog sits near the woman, curled in on itself, head tucked into her side.

Without meaning to, Bradley watches this dog, missing the way the woman looks at him fondly.

"He's just a little shy, but I promise he's a good boy," your voice snaps him out of his trance.

Bradley doesn't think he's ever thought so hard about what to say next. You have a soft look on your face, eyes darting back and forth between him and the dog that sits so close to you. The morning light is peeking out from beneath the tree branches, golden rays dancing across your skin. Bradley is glad he doesn't have his sunglasses on right now.

"What's his name?" Bradley walks closer to you, and you turn your body towards him. The dog next to you perks up a bit at the movement.

You smile a little before saying it, "Ducky." Seeing the way his brows raise, you laugh a bit. "He's just a bit of an odd pup out, thought the name suited him."

Bradley couldn't help but feel like it was fate. Ducky and Rooster. It was almost laughable.

"You said he's shy," Bradley led on, looking up to you as he sat on his haunches next to the dog.

"Yeah," you hummed. "Definitely my sensitive boy out of the group. These guys are retiring K-9, but Ducky has a bit of a soft side, wasn't trained properly as a puppy." Your voice seemed to waver a bit at the end of your sentence.

Bradley watched as your throat bobbed before you spoke again. He could tell where this conversation was going, but didn't want to interrupt. The look in your eyes was fiercely protective.

"He was abused by his first owner. So he has some PTSD tendencies. Hyper vigilant, can get really avoidant and shy, whines a lot when he's feeling anxious," you tell Bradley, petting the dog softly.

But nothing in your expression tells him that you don't care for this dog, that you think he's broken because of all of these things. It makes his heart beat a little quicker.

"But Ducky's a good boy. You just have to put some work in to see that." As you say his name again, Ducky peeks out from where he's hiding in your side. You smile a bit at this, ruffling his ears. "You wanna say hi to the sweet man?" you ask in a soft voice, like you're talking just to the dog, like Bradley's not right next to you, hearing every word.

He holds his hand out slowly, knowing not to move too fast. "Hey, Ducky. I'm Bradley." As soon as he says it, he feels a bit silly. But the way your smile deepens makes him continue. "Looking for a home, buddy? I got a nice backyard."

"Oh, he'll love that. Runs around like a bunny when he's all riled up," you told him with a smile on your face, now looking only at Bradley.

Bradley smiles at that, only imagining the life this dog could bring to his quiet house.

Finally, Ducky nudges his outstretched hand, sniffing it first, then licking it softly. He hears you gasp lightly at the action, nothing big though, trying not to disrupt the moment.

"He never does that," you offer. Bradley can see your head shaking slowly as Ducky continues to push into the man in front of you.

Bradley feels his heartbeat steady. It's quiet around him. Even with the squealings of the children around him and the barking of the other dogs, Bradley only hears the little laps of Ducky's tongue against the skin on his hand. But this quiet is something he can get used to, something that grounds him.

"It's a 150 dollar adoption fee, right?" Bradley asks, not tearing his eyes away from the dog in front of him. Ducky's big brown eyes seem to bore into his soul, making him ask the question before even thinking about what he's saying.

You bite your lip before speaking, trying to hide the big grin on your face, even though you know Bradley can't see it. "Um, no fee for him. I already took care of it."

Your words confuse Bradley. He looks over to you for an answer but sees clearly why you had paid the fee yourself.

Quickly, a hand comes up to your cheek as you wipe the stray tear away from your face. "I just didn't want anything to deter someone from taking him home." Bradley's heart clenches at this as you offer him a smile and you fan your eyes.

"Well, what do you say, Ducky? Wanna come home with me?" Bradley finds himself talking to the dog again, not feeling as silly this time around.

જ⁀➴

Bradley looks at the large, fluffy cream colored dog bed lying next to his and the brown wicker box overflowing with colorful chew toys with a small smile. Ducky had been a little hesitant to leave your side at first when he realized what was happening, but with some whispered assurance and a kiss on the tip of his wet nose from you, he jumped into Bradley's Bronco, settling in the passenger seat.

Ducky had whined when Bradley peeled out of the parking lot. The man had glanced over at Ducky as he stuck his head out of the window and looked in your direction. His eyes found your figure in the mirror, blue denim, and a sweet pink-colored top catching his eye. He saw the way you brought one hand up to your heart, and as the other wiped at your cheeks. You loved this dog, every bit of your being told him that.

Bradley couldn't help but feel bad as the dog's whines continued throughout shopping for essentials, the drive home, and the arrival at his house.

Ducky had opted to lie in Bradley's brown leather chair as soon as they got into the house, and he decided to take it as a good sign. But as the day continued, Ducky had barely left the spot, and small cries were coming every few minutes.

Opening up the sliding glass door to his backyard, Bradley called Ducky over, beckoning him to come out and play. But the swings of the bright blue and purple rope and the energetic movements from Bradley weren't doing anything to move Ducky from his spot.

Even when making dinner, Ducky had barely budged from his spot on the recliner. With the wafting scent of the food on the stovetop, Bradley was sure that Ducky would appear by his side sooner rather than later. But nothing came of it, even with the temptation of a seared ribeye with Ducky's name on it.

He had tried speaking softly like he had seen you do earlier that day, but Bradley didn't want to push the poor dog more than it seemed like he already did. Instead, he turned on the television and sat in the company of the shy dog.

It wasn't until Bradley was tucked under his sheets that he heard the faint noise of shuffling paws on his hardwood floors. Ducky sat next to the side of the bed, noticeably avoiding lying on the dog bed next to him. Bradley laughed quietly at this, furrowing his brows a bit.

He wasn't quite sure what to do, to be honest. Growing up, he never had dogs or cats or anything of that sort in the house. He figured it was hard enough being a single mother of a toddler; the added stress of an animal just wasn't feasible in his situation.

Sure, his friends growing up had dogs. He recalled throwing around a tennis ball with one of his friends and their black lab in their backyard almost every day during the summer before 7th grade. But Bradley had never lived with a dog. Never had to deal with big brown eyes looking at him as he lay underneath the sheets.

"You okay, buddy?" he asked in the otherwise quiet room.

To this, Ducky started whining.

"Oh, come on. I thought we got over that a few hours ago," Bradley groans, rolling up to sit in his bed now.

Bradley was man enough to admit it was hard to drag Ducky away from you during the adoption this morning. Ducky's whines as you gave him a few last pets and spoke gently to him, did tug on Bradley's heartstrings. Bradley was sure the dog next to him couldn't stop thinking about your kind eyes and sweet disposition; he certainly couldn't.

Bradley's hands were rougher than yours. He felt the softness as you handed the leash to him this morning. You had explained to him a routine that Ducky usually had with the unit, your hands animated as you looked between the pair in front of you with a smile. Occasionally, one would come down to rub the top of his head. Ducky was probably missing that, missing you.

On top of that, when Bradley smiled at the dog next to him, he couldn't help but think of how goofy he looked compared to you. Your smiles were gentle, drawing him and Ducky in from a few feet away. He could tell you had that kind of magnetism, that kind of energy that just took hold of people and didn't let go. Bradley struggled to think of what the dog in front of him thought as he shot him another small smile.

And Bradley couldn't let go of the way you switched from talking to him to Ducky. How you had described Bradley with a soft tone and warm look in your eyes. You didn't even know him. How did you settle on "sweet man" from what Bradley was giving you this morning? It was a little too mind-boggling to think about for too long.

Shaking away the memories of this morning, Bradley was brought back to the dog that sat at his side. With a small sigh, he pointed to the bed next to him. "That's your bed, Ducky. It's time to go to sleep."

This only got him louder whines.

Bradley sighed and shook his head. He felt clueless.

"Do you want to come up here?" he tried, patting the comforter near his feet.

Within seconds, Ducky was jumping onto the bed and taking claim to the opposite side of the bed.

"Unbelievable. I try to get you to listen all day, and this is what you respond to," Bradley laughed as he looked at Ducky with a smile, not able to get mad at the dog as he cuddled up similarly to this morning with you.

The whines had stopped now, replaced with steady breathing and a small huff. The buzzing of the bugs outside his window that seemed so loud yesterday was now quiet. Bradley was only keying in on the ups and downs of Ducky's chest, something more grounding than he realized.

"Alright, Ducky. Time for bed," Bradley spoke again to the dog, stroking the fur on his back gently. Lying his head back down on his pillow and continuing his movements, Bradley was asleep within minutes. Soft snores from both him and Ducky fill the house with a comfortable, peaceful energy.

જ⁀➴

It was a bit daunting at first. That first week with Ducky was definitely a learning curve. Trying to adjust his routine to best suit the dog's needs hadn't been quick or easy.

The first morning, Bradley woke up to licks on his face and playful growling. At first, Bradley thought Ducky wanted attention, some pets, and cuddles. But as soon as he sat up in bed, Ducky was bolting to the front door.

Sitting in front of the door with the green leash in his mouth, Ducky whined as Bradley slowly made his way down the hallway.

Still adorned in his slippers and ratty college football shorts, Bradley closed the front door and took off with Ducky as the sun rose in the distance. After a few minutes of tugging Bradley down the block, Ducky broke out into a trot, urging Bradley to keep up with him.

That's how Bradley ended up running barefoot in his neighborhood at 5 in the morning, slippers in one hand and leash in the other. He had passed Mrs. Greene, Mrs. Johnson, and Mrs. Nguyen on their morning aerobic walk with a small nod and smile. The older ladies had laughed at the scene, something Bradley couldn't help but join in on.

An hour later, they ended up back at Bradley's house. This time, Ducky barked happily as he opened the sliding glass door out to his backyard, running circles in the yard much like you had said he would. Bradley found himself watching with a disbelieving smile on his face, wishing he could somehow tell you that you were right.

A few weeks later, Bradley runs shirtless, tennis shoes on his feet now, with Ducky on an early May morning. The sun is just starting to peak out from the greenery lining the trail they take every morning. Bradley's grateful for the cool morning air as sweat wicks at his lower back and hairline. A combination of the morning dew and perspiration rolls down the muscles of Bradley's body as he jogs.

Suddenly, Ducky pauses once they reach the familiar park. Bradley looks down at his dog and then up to see what he could possibly be stopping for.

Seeing nothing but the group of older women with small hand weights and crows in the trees, Bradley bends down to Ducky's level. "What's up, buddy? What do you see?"

But as soon as Bradley settles down next to the dog, Ducky's leash is slipping through his fingers. He reaches out to grab onto anything, his dog, his collar, his leash, but ends up grasping at the air instead. Ducky is taking off in a sprint before him.

Rising to his feet and going after him. Bradley swears under his breath and calls out loudly, "Ducky!"

He finds himself weaving through the playground, wood chips kicking up in his wake. But his eyes widen as Ducky zeroes in on a group of women at the edge of the park.

He sees them all stretched down in downward dog as Ducky gets closer and closer. Again, Bradley calls out, "Ducky!"

At this, he sees a few heads turn towards the sound of his voice. But only one woman looks in the direction of the blur of fur coming straight for her. A yelp is heard as Ducky barrels into her, knocking her from her place on the mat. Gasps are heard from the surrounding women, and Bradley's chest heaves as he sprints to catch up to his dog and pull him off the stranger.

But as he gets closer, his heart calms at the sound of laughter. Ducky is lying on top of this poor woman, but at least he's not attacking or barking or anything of that sort. No, he's just licking and nuzzling into the figure on the ground.

"I am so sorry. I don't," Bradley gets out quickly, stuttering a bit as he looks around at the group with an apologetic smile. "He never runs away like that, I'm sorry. Ducky, get over here!"

But the dog stays put, and the laughter doesn't stop. But finally, Ducky is pushed up from the figure on the ground, and Bradley's heart races once more when he sees your face peeking out from behind the ball of fur.

"Oh, it's you." He doesn't know why he says it, but it comes from him like a breath of relief.

You laugh at this, not even taking in the way Bradley scolds himself at the odd behavior.

"And it's you and Ducky!" Your attention is on the dog in front of you, petting him and smiling brightly, only glancing up at Bradley once before returning to the panting dog rather than the panting man.

Bradley kneels down next to you, sweat still rolling down his skin. He doesn't catch the way your cheeks flush as you take in his build. Muscles are a mix of the perfect summer tan and red rosy dusting, no doubt from the sprint he took off on to get here. His arms strain as they go behind him, veins jumping out from his skin. From this position, his tight stomach is also on full display, ridges and divots begging for your attention.

What you don't realize is that Bradley is doing the exact same thing to you, drinking you in fully. You're in flow yoga pants, calves peeking out from the wide-legged flare of the pants. And your top half is barely hidden, only wearing a sports bra, pretty and pink like the top he had seen you in a month ago. The straps dig into your shoulders, and Bradley takes in the swell of your breasts as he follows the scoop of the top.

A bark from Ducky snaps you both back into reality. Some of the women around you laugh.

"You guys seem to be doing well," you spoke softly, voice just as sweet as Bradley remembered.

"Mm, yeah. We've got our routine now, he's been great," Bradley tells you, reaching to pet his dog.

You watch the action fondly, seeing the way Ducky leans into his touch now. The moment is sweet and completely yours, at least that's what it feels like as you and Bradley make eye contact and share small smiles. But a voice clearing is heard as you and Bradley remember where you are.

You turn to a young woman next to you, speaking quicker than Bradley has ever heard before from you. "I'm gonna go with them, I'll be back soon." She nodded at you with a gleaming look in her eye that Bradley didn't quite understand. But you turned quickly towards him, grabbing Ducky's leash and apologizing to the other women around you.

As soon as you had walked away from the group, they resumed their positions, some of them craning their necks to watch the scene a few feet away from them unfold.

"I'm so sorry about that, again," Bradley told you, grimace on his face as you handed him the leash.

But you just shook your head and smiled. "No, no. It was nice seeing you guys again. I was wondering how he was doing with you," you told him. Bradley hoped you didn't catch the way he swallowed hard at your words. Leaning down a bit, your hand came down to Ducky's face. "But you like the sweet man, huh? I knew you would."

Bradley's cheeks flush at the repetition of your description of him, yet again.

The sun paints everything a nice golden color, pinks in the sky still dancing a bit in the distance. But Bradley can't peel his eyes away from you, and it seems like you are having the same problem.

"I should probably get back." Your head is pointing in the direction of the class, now moving through another pose.

"Yes, yeah. Sorry," he doesn't know why he apologizes, but the smile on your face doesn't make him think about it for long.

"Well, bye, Ducky. And bye..." you lead off, looking for him to pick up the end of your sentence.

"Bradley," he says, hoping you say it back to him.

"Bye, Bradley," you tell him, turning away from the pair, but not before sending them one last glance over your shoulder. And Bradley doesn't realize how long he stands there and hangs onto your words, only focusing on the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth. It had never sounded better, sounded sweeter from you.

Begrudgingly, he turns, ushering Ducky to follow him.

"I know, Ducky. Come on," he says, starting off in a slow jog as his dog turns back and begins to follow him. But as the day continues, Ducky's whining starts up again, and Bradley can't help but think of you.

જ⁀➴

Pool balls clack up against each other as Bradley misses yet another wide-open shot.

"Jesus, Rooster," Jake laughs loudly. "Missing your dog so much you can't even focus on one little game of pool?"

It was partly true. It was Bradley's first night out since getting Ducky; he had been opting to spend the nights and weekends at home with the dog rather than out drinking with the squad.

But before Bradley could defend himself, mouth already opening to fire back, Bob had cut in, "No, he's definitely distracted because of the girl."

Bob sipped his soda innocently as the group of pilots turned in his direction with peaked interest.

Looking at Bradley, Bob grimaced; he was always a little loose-lipped after his 3rd soda of the night. "Shoot. Sorry, Bradley."

This set off a chain of questions from the group as Bradley's head hung low, hand coming up to the back of his neck to rub harshly at the skin.

Bradley had confessed his feelings to the WSO earlier this week, not being able to get the image of you out of his brain the entire weekend after Ducky had run you down in the park. He just had to tell someone, and Bob seemed like the logical choice. Smart, level-headed, in a stable relationship. But the words from the WSO only sent him into a spiral as he had finished describing you.

"Sounds like your perfect woman."

Bob's voice seemed to be on repeat the entire week. And God, he was right. You were perfect. More importantly, Bradley felt like he was going through withdrawal. Every time he looked at Ducky, he thought of you. He reasoned that getting out of the house and spending some time with his friends would be good for him.

Evidently, his secret being outed wasn't what he had in mind for tonight.

"Idiots, shut it!" Phoenix's voice rang out above the others. The group was now silent, all looking to the woman. "What girl?" she asked hesitantly.

With a sigh, Bradley's shoulders slumped. "The woman who I got Ducky from. I ran into her again last week, doing yoga at the park on one of our morning runs. And I don't know," he says, face twisting, not even sure why he's volunteering this information to his friends. "I just... I can't stop thinking about her."

The group is silent, understanding and hearing the sincerity in Bradley's voice.

Jake lets out a whistle at this. "Let's get you another drink, lover-boy." And at this, the group seems to hum in agreement.

The blonde clamps a hand down on his shoulder, guiding him to the bar.

"And you don't have her number?" Jake asks as they weave through the crowds of people.

"No, man. I mean, I don't even know her name. The adoption paperwork happened quicker than I expected, and I was just standing there like a dumbass the second time," Bradley grumbles, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Yikes. Any chance she's gonna do yoga again this week?" Jake asked as they sat at two open seats.

"I looked, it said the yoga happens the first Saturday of every month. So, I just have to wait," Bradley explained, feeling a little embarrassed at the admission.

"A month?! Good luck, my friend. You've gone crazy after only a week," Jake laughed. Bradley rolled his eyes at this and groaned, knowing Jake's words held some truth to them.

"Hello, gentlemen. I've got a drink here for you, Lieutenant Bradshaw," Penny's voice makes Bradley's head snap up. Her hand is pointing in across the bar, and when he follows it, he can't help but swear.

"Holy shit," Bradley laughs, turning to Jake with a smile and wide eyes.

"Holy shit, that's her?" Jake asked, looking at you and your friend at the opposite side of the bar, taking in the way she poked your sides and laughed.

"That's her," he spoke breathlessly. Penny grinned at the scene unfolding in front of her.

"Go, dumbass. Go!" Jake pushed him off the barstool, both hands guiding him in your direction.

Bradley recognized the girl sitting next to you, the same one at the yoga class the other day; she was probably your best friend if he was guessing. The way you smiled at her, cheeks flushing as she spoke, and sent you a wink made Bradley giddy. She grabbed her purse and hopped off the stool, gesturing for him to come take her spot before squeezing your hand and leaving.

"Hey," he says, sitting next to you, disbelief on his features.

"Hey, you," you tease back. "Are you in the Navy?"

Bradley takes in the way your eyes narrow at him, like you're trying to put pieces together. He nods and smiles, "I am, TOPGUN graduate."

"So you saw the poster I put up? For the K-9 unit?" You were smiling brightly now, like you had guessed correctly.

"I did. The pink's what got me." Bradley's eyes met yours. This conversation seemed different than all the other you had in the past. Before, you were calm and collected, but here you were excitable and giggly.

"I totally thought you were a firefighter," you spoke honestly. "I put the K-9 posters up at the base, the fire station, and places like this," your finger wagged as you spoke, gesturing to the bar.

"Disappointed?" he asked, a teasing smile on his face.

You held your hands up in faux surrender. "No! Not at all. Impressed actually."

He grinned at this, settling into the conversation more and more. "And what do you do? Not a police officer, right?"

"No, vet actually. I just work pro bono with the police department, specifically for the K-9 unit. Those guys are hard workers, and usually get roughed up after big jobs," you told him with a small smile.

Bradley put together some pieces of his own. How you knew so much about Ducky, why you had gotten so close to him. You had probably gotten to see the pup at his lowest.

Bradley nodded, "Now I'm impressed." You smiled wider at this, laughing at his words.

For the first time since sitting with you, Bradley fully took you in. Your denim shorts that rode up just a bit and your white tank top, the V-neck framing your collarbones and chest perfectly. Your cheeks had a slight blush to them; he couldn't tell whether it was from him or from the fruity drink you seemed to be working on.

Again, you did the same thing. This time, though, Bradley was in a tight white T-shirt and jeans that seemed to strain against his thick biceps and thighs. His hair wasn't as windswept as it had been that day in the park; now it was pushed back slightly, a single curl coming down on the left side of his face.

The squad watched as the two of you talked, Jake practically skipping back to the group to tell them the good news. Every time they glanced over, you and Bradley had gotten closer and closer, fully leaning into each other.

You both sported matching smiles and flushed cheeks the entire night, despite letting both of your drinks sit and become lukewarm. The alcohol couldn't be to blame for the way you were acting.

They saw how Bradley's eyes softened as they met yours. How his shoulders relaxed after each laughing fit. How he opened himself completely in front of you.

You had talked about everything. It seemed to flow so easily out of Bradley, even the hard things. When you asked about his family, you must have noticed the way his face dropped slightly, instantly placing a supportive hand on his thigh. He had told you about his family, the squad, about Maverick. It was nice. You asked questions, not the kind that he had an automatic response for, but ones that made him think.

"Who on the squad is most like a sibling to you?"

"What dish instantly brings you back to childhood?"

And his favorite, "What's your favorite story about your dad?"

He asked you about school, and you indulged him in crazy stories from your early days in the profession. How you had worked out on a farm in Wyoming one summer and helped with the births of calves. It had been a lot more physically exhausting than you would've imagined. How you had studied in Australia for an exchange year, learning all about marine wildlife and how to care for them. The way your eyes lit up when you told him about a baby turtle hatching you had witnessed had him giddy.

You had told him about all the adventures you had gone on and all the ones you wanted to do in the future. Swimming in Baja, Mexico, with the Whale Sharks was at the top of your bucket list, and while Bradley was a bit scared of deep waters like that, he had to admit it didn't sound as scary if you were going to be by his side.

In exchange, he told you a few things about his time in the academy. The risks he had to take on missions, the close calls that happened more often than he would like. He saw the pain this job caused his mom, and he didn't want you to go into this without knowing the risks. But the way you bit your lip and told him that you thought what he was doing was so brave made his heart race and a wide grin break out on his face. You had hit his shoulder lightly at this, saying you were serious, but Bradley just smiled wider.

"Is there anything else I can grab you two tonight?" Penny asked, wiping down a glass as she looked at the pair, effectively popping their bubble.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry. We stayed way too late," you spoke, digging into your wallet to pull out some bills to give the kind woman.

"Sorry, Penny," Bradley chuckled, handing her a handful of cash before you could even finish fumbling with you wallet. Your eyes met him, mouth about to open to argue, but he just offered you a hand as he hopped off the barstool.

"Goodnight, you two," she called as you both walked out with sheepish smiles.

You hadn't dropped Bradley's hand as you led him through the parking lot to your car. He relished in the warmth and softness; the feeling was vaguely familiar as he recalled the earlier touches from when you had first met.

"This is me," you told him, as moonlight danced across your features. Bradley couldn't help but run his eyes over your face, thinking to himself how beautiful you looked.

"Can I get your number?" he asked brazenly, a tad louder than he needed to. You giggled at this but nodded regardless, hands reaching for his phone as he stared at you.

Despite the cold breeze that came from the ocean just a few meters away from you both, Bradley felt a deep warmth spread in his chest. He opened your car door, closing it softly as you waved through the window. And once you backed out of your spot, Bradley found himself smiling all over again at the paw print stickers on your back window.

જ⁀➴

3 months later...

You and Bradley sprawled out on his couch as the movie finished up in front of you, Ducky sitting by your feet. Lying on Bradley's chest, you couldn't help but listen to his heartbeat beneath you.

These past few months with Bradley had been nothing short of perfect. He had texted you the morning after you had sat at the Hard Deck for hours, asking if you were free for dinner that same night. You remember laughing at his eagerness to yourself, but agreeing nonetheless.

He appeared at your door at 6:30 PM sharp, taking you out to a nice dinner on a beach patio. You teased him about not bringing Ducky, saying you thought they were a package deal, but you quickly paused the teasing after seeing how nervous he was by the way his cheeks flushed brightly.

He asked you about your career out here, only really talking about school last night with you. He said he wanted to learn more about you now. It was more thoughtful than you had expected.

Halfway through the dinner, you moved your chair over to Bradley's side of the table, something that caught a glare from the hostess. But you had to, as you scrolled through pictures and pictures of animals on your phone. You told him each of their names and all the little quirks they had, told him about the family you had worked with, and how much each of these animals meant to people. You hadn't noticed, but he smiled the entire time, not really looking at your phone but instead at the way you lit up when you spoke about the animal you've worked with.

When the date wrapped up, you told him that you'll just have to see his dog another time, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before you closed the door to your apartment. He hadn't seen you peek through the curtains, but you saw the way he pumped his fists like a dork while walking to his car. You couldn't help but fall even harder for the man.

Two days after your first date, Bradley had asked you to meet him in a little coffee shop near your apartment. He had apologized countlessly for the timing, seeing as he had requested 6 AM as the time, saying it was okay if you wanted to wait for the weekend, but his training schedule was just a little hectic at the moment. But you insisted it was okay, saying you had your own share of early mornings too and that you wanted to see him.

As he walked you to your car after a quick coffee and pastry, you smiled at him. Leaning against your car, you tugged him down by the collar of the familiar plain white tee he wore, pulling him in for a kiss. Bradley's hands found purchase on your hips, fingers giddy against your scrubs.

It was the fifth date, and both of you opted for a night in, where he promised to cook for you. It had also been the first time you had been in his apartment, Ducky clinging to your side the entire night.

Bradley had asked you to be his girlfriend before dinner was even finished, too distracted by the way you sat on the countertop to focus on the food simmering around him. You laughed as he flushed from the question and the sound of the smoke alarm going off, but ultimately said yes with a smile as he leaned down, caging you against his firm chest and the cabinets, to capture your lips in a deep kiss before waving a towel in front of the alarm. You couldn't help but laugh as you moved to open the sliding glass door to let the smoke out of the little house and to get some fresh air for yourself, too, after feeling how Bradley's hands rested on your thighs.

Recently, though, you had been having your fair share of sleepovers with the tall aviator. The first time he had slept over, you had shared one too many glasses of wine over sushi takeout from your favorite place downtown. After glancing at the clock and the empty bottle between you, you asked quietly if he wanted to spend the night.

Bradley hadn't ever seen you so shy before, but he figured the rosiness of your cheeks definitely matched his own and said nothing. Instead, he nodded, kissing your forehead sweetly as you further pushed into his hold.

He remembers feeling your soft face up against his bare chest as you dozed off, not being afraid to lean into his side once you had settled under the covers. The smell of your shampoo and lotion was strong, wafting off of you after your shower. Bradley lay there for a few minutes. Not daring to close his eyes, he instead wanted to take you in as you slept on top of him. The combination of your sweet smell and soft skin had the man reeling.

Now you lie on the couch at his apartment, and Bradley sees your eyes blinking away sleep as you curl up to his side. With a kiss pressed to your hair, your eyes widened as Bradley ushered you to the bedroom. Big hands coming up to your sides to support you, strong chest pushed against your back to guide you.

It was the first time you had slept over at his. But after grabbing a quick shower, inspecting all of the hair and body care products he had available, you took your place in bed. Bradley's sheets were softer than yours, and you wondered why it had taken so long to sleep over at his.

But before you were about to call out and ask him, the answer came jumping onto the bed next to you, taking Bradley's spot. You laughed softly as Ducky turned on his back, urging you to rub his tummy.

Getting out of the bathroom, with nothing but a tight towel around his waist, Bradley groaned. You giggled at this, but Bradley shook his head you and Ducky all cuddled up already.

Walking into the small closet on the other side of the room, your eyes tracked Bradley. The way the small towel around his hips was working to show off his deep V-line had you squirming in your spot on the bed. You watched his back muscles push and pull as he rolled his neck and stretched a bit while walking. Maybe you could offer to work out the knots; it'd be a win-win situation for you and your boyfriend.

As he emerged from the closet in nothing but a pair of boxers, you urged yourself to calm down. It wasn't like it was your first time seeing him in this state; you did have sleepovers at your apartment quite often. But it was the first time that you could actually do something about it.

There had been countless times when you and Bradley had been pretty handsy, but all of them seemed to be interrupted. Whether it was an emergency call from the clinic or an alert on Bradley's phone that Ducky had knocked over another vase in the house, something always tore you away in those moments.

You had felt Bradley's frustration, seen it firsthand. The way his jaw ticked each time, and his hands got all grabby before either of you had to leave. You didn't blame him, often finding yourself rubbing your thighs together after your time together was interrupted. Maybe even having a wandering hand shoot down your panties if he was the one who had to go.

But tonight you might have him all to yourself, whether that means deep kisses or holding each other tightly and finding sleep. That was until Ducky refused to move.

"Come on, Ducky, off the bed tonight," Bradley told the dog, standing over him.

"You let him sleep on the bed regularly?" you asked with a playful look on your face. Bradley caught your tone quickly, sending you a lighthearted eye roll.

"Yes, because I love my dog," he spoke, ruffling Ducky's ears.

"But what's the big bed for then?" you questioned again, smile growing bigger with every second.

Bradley wanted to lean over and kiss it off your face. But with the big dog in his way, he just shrugged. "He didn't like it."

You giggled at this, Ducky turning to you at the sound. "Gosh, he's a big softy, huh?" you told Ducky in a sweet tone, something that made Bradley suck his teeth and grin.

But with Ducky's attention elsewhere, Bradley was able to shift the dog to the end of the bed. Getting under the covers, Bradley reached for you automatically. Instead of feeling the cotton of your pajama pants that you usually wear, he instead felt your warm skin.

Seemingly watching the confusion spread across his face, you offered an explanation, "Your sheets are nice. And it's a little hot out."

If nice sheets and 90-degree weather were what it took to get you in the little lacy pink underwear your wore now, Bradley would buy a set in every color and run his heating system even on hot nights like tonight.

But instead, he just hummed, fingers tracing over the lacy trimming of your panties.

On top of this, you wore one of his old Navy shirts. Not expecting to sleep over, you had limited options available. Bradley had never been more thankful.

"Let's go to bed, pretty girl," Bradley told you as he saw the way your eyes started to blink closed again. You nodded sweetly at this and settled under the covers as he turned off the lamp on his nightstand.

Settling under the covers, Bradley's big hands found your stomach, pulling your back into his chest. From this position, sure, his hands could roam all over you, and he could touch anything that begged for his attention. But what stopped him in his tracks was the smell of his body wash on your skin.

It made logical sense. You had showered before getting in bed while he washed up the dishes and straightened the living room, but it didn't hit him until this very moment that you were fully his. The woman he had pined over for a month, not even knowing your name, only remembering your kind eyes and soft touch. Now, you were in his bed, falling asleep next to him in his shirt after washing yourself with his body wash.

What did he do to deserve you? You who cared for animals so much that you made a career out of it. You who held his hand and kissed away his tears when he finally told you about what happened to his father. You, who at every chance were unapologetically yourself, either dancing in the kitchen while making dinner or sobbing your eyes out while watching Marley & Me for the hundredth time.

He loved you. Bradley realized in that moment that he loved you. More than he had ever loved anyone like this before.

At the thought, his hands had squeezed your waist tightly, and you stirred next to him.

"Baby, are you okay?" you asked, voice laced with sleep.

Letting his grip on you loosen, he was quick to come down and kiss your neck in an apology. "Sorry, just thinking about you. Didn't mean to wake you up."

You hum, shifting against him slightly. Your neck is now on full display, and Bradley just couldn't help himself.

Feeling his warm mouth work against your sensitive neck made you squirm against him. Bradley's mouth was relentless, biting and licking underneath your jaw and down the side of your throat. Your breath hitched as he moved a spot near your pulse point, chest rising and falling dramatically.

Bradley's hands wrapped around your stomach once more, but this time, one of his hands snaked underneath your shirt. "Can I touch you like this?" his voice was deep, breath hot against your ear.

"Yes, please," you whispered.

Suddenly, his mouth was back on your throat, and your hips pushed back further into his now hard length. His hand came up to grab your tits. They were in the perfect position for Bradley, who was able to pinch and roll your nipples in between his big fingers.

"Oh gosh, Bradley," you huffed, eyes fully rolled back into your skull as his hand worked against your puffy nipples and he ground his length into your ass.

"Yeah, baby, feels good?" he asked in a cocky coo, watching the way you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded up and down at his words.

Your mouth opened, not quite knowing exactly if you could speak with the way his touch seemed to intensify in mere seconds. But still, you tried, aching for him now, "Touch me, please. Down-"

A loud bark had you jumping out of your skin. Ducky growled at Bradley, starting to shield you protectively.

You laughed at his dog's actions, and Bradley looked at you in disbelief.

"Ducky, down! Off the bed!" Bradley's voice was loud, but it carried no real weight to scare the dog. Ducky instead settled down in between you two, almost pushing Bradley off the bed.

You laughed again.

"This is unbelievable," Bradley scoffed as he threw the covers off his body and got out of bed. From here, you could see the way his length strained under his boxers.

But it wasn't long before Bradley was over at your side of the bed and scooping you up into his arms.

"What are you doing?" you asked, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

"Trying to give my girl what she wants. This time uninterrupted," Bradley huffed, sending a glare at Ducky on the bed as he carried you outside the bedroom.

But when Bradley closed the door, Ducky only started scratching and barking even louder. You looked at him with a small smile, pressing a kiss to his temple to calm him.

"I've got an idea," he spoke, something dancing in his eyes. "Go open the door to the patio."

"Bradley, no! You can't leave him out there!" you chastised with a small frown on your face.

He hummed, head falling into your shoulder. But just as quick as it fell, it came back up again.

"Okay, you go outside then. Wait for me," he told you, planting a searing kiss on your lips that made you forget any questions you had. Bradley placed you down softly and watched as you padded over to the back patio, underwear now clinging to your skin in a way that almost looked uncomfortable.

But as soon as he heard the click of the sliding glass door shutting. He opened the bedroom door and let Ducky inspect the living room.

"I don't know where she is, buddy," he told the dog, shoulders shrugging, really trying to sell the bit. Ducky sighed and made his way back into the bedroom after a few sniffs and laps around the couch.

After seeing him settle back into the bed and toss and turn for a few minutes, Bradley crept out the back door, swiping the big, soft blanket you liked so much, on his way.

"What'd you do?" you asked the man as he came up to you and draped the blanket around your shoulders.

"He's sleeping. Do you really think so poorly of me?" he teased, hands once again coming to your waist.

"I never said anything," you shot back, failing to hide the small smile on your face.

Bradley walked backwards until he reached the little love seat on his back patio, pulling you down so you were sitting on his lap. You smiled at the eager look on Bradley's face, giggling to yourself.

"Hi," he said, leaning in to press his lips against yours.

"Hi," you teased back, meeting his lips halfway.

Bradley's mouth moved in a delicate, yet passionate way. His hands were planted firmly on your hips; you could feel his thumbs pressing into your skin as the kisses turned more intense. You gasped as Bradley dragged your core across his hard length, cotton rubbing together to create a dizzying friction.

Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bradley pushed his tongue into your mouth, licking into it with urgency. The noise that came out of your throat at his movements was quiet, but Bradley heard it nonetheless. Groaning into your mouth, Bradley moved your hips once more, going a bit crazy at the feeling of your heat against him.

"Come on, baby. Show me how much you need me, huh?" he broke the kiss to speak, eyes searching yours. But all he saw was the gloss already over them as you nodded quickly and threw your arms over his shoulders.

Bradley kissed down your neck as your hips started to move back and forth against his length. Your pace was slow, but he heard the hitches of your breath and decided not to push you just yet. His hands instead crawled up underneath your shirts and began to toy with your nipples again. At this, you captured your bottom lip between your teeth and nuzzled your head into the crook of Bradley's neck.

"So sensitive for me. Doing so good. You like it when I touch you like this?" he asked, nudging your head out from its hiding place.

With another nod of your head, Bradley grabbed your chin, quickly swiping your bottom lip out of its hold.

"Wanna hear you, please, baby," he begged, kissing your face sweetly. It was the exact opposite of how his other hand moved under your shirt, twisting and rubbing your pebbled nipples like they were his own special toys.

"Feels so good, Bradley," you said breathlessly. At the sound of his name falling from your lips, Bradley's hips jumped to meet the steady rhythm of yours. You yelped as he did so, but he was quick to capture your lips in another deep kiss, keeping his hips pressing harshly into your heat through the cotton of both your underwear.

"You're driving me crazy," he confessed, hand coming up to the hem of the old Navy shirt you were wearing. Looking to you for permission, you nodded wordlessly and felt the shirt being taken off your body.

Bradley threw the shirt across the patio and drove straight into your chest, taking one of your nipples between his lips. He lapped and sucked, feeling your hips roll with more urgency across his length at his ministrations.

"So beautiful, baby," he spoke in a low tone before switching to your other breast. One hand snaked around to hold onto your lower back, helping you with the drag. The other pinched at your now wet nipple softly.

"Bradley," you warned, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the combined feeling of his mouth, hands, and hips. The new pressure from the hand on your back was now pushing your hips in the perfect position, feeling his tip make contact with your clit through the cotton.

The man watched as you became consumed with pleasure, lip wobbling as your hips moved back and forth. He felt your fingernails dig into his shoulder blades, surely leaving marks.

His mouth popped off your nipple and made its way up to your open mouth, licking into it once again.

"Gonna come for me, baby? It's okay, I wanna feel you come. I'm right here," he spoke softly to you, watching your brows furrow and face twist.

The words and the intense look in Bradley's eyes made the tension in your tummy snap, hips moving fast to chase your high. You tried collapsing into your boyfriend, but with a firm hand that stayed on your jaw, you were forced upright, looking straight at Bradley as you came on his lap.

Your bare chest heaved as you came down from your high, pressing into Bradley's warm figure. His hand traveled from your lower back up to your hair, stroking it sweetly while placing soft kisses on your hairline.

"Can I feel you?" Bradley asked, fingers now toying with the lace on your underwear again.

"Yeah, but I wanna feel you too," you told him with a small smile on your face, bringing your fingers down to the waistband of his boxers. He chuckled at your actions, but still brought you into a sweet kiss.

Your hands pushed down his waistband and grasped his length in your hands. He was heavy in your hold, twitching as you rubbed a finger down the side of his member, tracing a prominent vein.

"So big," you whispered, more so to yourself, but the way Bradley's fingers moved to push into the front of your underwear made you think he must have heard you, too.

You felt one hand plant firmly on your waist while the other cupped your heat softly. His middle finger circled your entrance, rubbing little circles and spreading the wetness around, something that had you squirming in his hold. Bradley's thumb rubbed similar circles on your clit as you hunched over into his hold.

Your hands worked to rub at his tip, one hand coming up to your mouth to collect some spit, making the movements more fluid. Bradley shuddered as you found a steady pace, feeling your fingers continuously working over his sensitive head.

A finger pressed into your entrance, stretching you in an unfamiliar way. You whined into Bradley's neck at the feeling, tensing up for a moment. But he was quick to keep rubbing little circles against your nub, relaxing your muscles.

The finger pumped in and out of you at the same pace as your hand. Bradley's lips find your neck once more, now breathing heavier and lapping at more of your skin. As you ground down on him further, he moved to push another finger inside your wet entrance.

"Jesus, baby. Feel so fucking good around my fingers. Can't wait to have you on my dick," he groaned, feeling you clench and squeeze around his fingers. You moaned at his words, pushing further into him to rub your breasts against the hard muscles of his chest. Your nipples rubbed harshly against him as you moved your hand more quickly to keep up with the rhythm of his fingers.

"Need you, please, Bradley. Now," you gasped, feeling your stomach wind up again. He nodded at your words, pulling his fingers from your entrance and instead picking you up off his hips, pushing you up against the wood railing of the patio.

"This okay, baby? You okay with me taking you like this?" Bradley asked, referring to your back meeting his chest, taking you from behind. Your stomach jumped at his words as you braced your hands against the railing.

"Yes, please, Bradley." The words were barely off the tip of your tongue when you felt Bradley tug down your underwear, leaving you completely bare in the warm summer breeze. He quickly did the same with his own underwear, fully allowing his member to spring free and rub on your ass.

One of his large hands came to wrap around your hips while the other guided his cock into your entrance. Feeling your breathing pick up, Bradley placed sweet kisses on your neck before whispering, "Breathe for me, baby. I got you."

Taking a deep breath, you exhaled as Bradley pushed into you. It was only his tip at first, but the way you pushed your hips back at the feeling of him drove his hips further, pushing in fully.

Gasping at the stretch, your head lay back on Bradley's broad chest as he snuck his other hand around to toy with your tits. Your nipples were still sensitive from his actions earlier, so this only caused you to push further into his hold.

"Can I move? Are you okay? Need to hear you, talk to me, baby," Bradley told you, kissing the top of your head softly.

"Feels really good, please, Bradley. Need you to move," you complied, as he nodded, pressing his hips into you before drawing out and pushing in again.

You whine as he sets a steady pace. His hands roam all over your body, trying to grab onto every part of you. Your tits, your thighs, your throat. You feel your eyes cross once his thumb lands on your clit once more, squirming and crying out in a nonsensical plea.

Bradley watches as you start to fall apart on him. His hips are moving to piston his hard length into your warm heat, finding it hard not to fully bend you over the railing and have his way with you. Instead, setting a pace that had you crying out every few seconds, mouth open, and eyes closing at his deep movements.

The crude sounds of his hips meeting your ass were filthy and the loudest thing in contrast to the otherwise quiet night. The extra squelching sounds surely come from the previous orgasm you had. Bradley wondered what you tasted like, but he'd have to save it for next time.

"So good, feels so good. My pretty girl," Bradley groaned, head dropping to kiss along your exposed jaw line, hand pushing your tummy to arch you even further into his hold.

You moaned in response, feeling him deeper, feeling more pressure. "For you, only you, Bradley," you told him, head turning to capture his lips in a kiss.

Bradley felt a surge of energy at your words. His thumb worked in tighter circles against your clit, the kind that had you shaking earlier on the loveseat.

"Yeah? This is my pussy, baby? Gonna let me fill you up?" he asked, spit mixing with yours as he bit harshly on your bottom lip.

"Mhm, please. All yours," you cried out as his other hand came to hold across your hips, helping him push you to the edge by bending your frame even more than it already was. Your back arched away from Bradley as your hips and head pushed back to meet his solid body.

"Fuck, baby. Can't say shit like that," he scolded, but his hips kept pounding into you.

Bradley's filthy mouth was somewhat shocking to you. The only other time he had cursed around you was when he had stubbed his toes on the corner of your bed 3 weeks ago. So his words sent a chill down your spine despite the heat of the summer air.

Bradley's thumb stayed in its spot, working your clit and making you twitch and begin to thrash in his hold. But his other arm thrown around your hips made sure that you still felt his deep thrusts.

"Bradley," you breathed out, head tilting back to look at the man. Sweat dripped from his hairline, but he still moved to swoop down and catch you in a searing kiss.

"I got you, I got you. Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you come on my dick." His words pushed you over the edge as he licked into your mouth once more after speaking. The constant rub from his thumb and deep thrusts had you shaking as you worked through your high with him.

Seeing the way your body tensed, your tits bouncing with every movement, and your thighs shaking, had Bradley releasing in you with a low groan. His hips canted into you, slowing down slightly with each thrust, only moving to help you both work through your respective highs.

He had neglected to turn on any porch lights to not alert any neighbors or even Ducky, but the way the moonlight streamed through the trees and painted your features was something Bradley wished he could remember forever. Your lips were still parted, taking labored breaths. Your eyes were glossy, like you were trying to focus and come back into your body. Your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of rosy pink than he had ever seen on you before.

You were beautiful.

Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek, and he felt you smile against his lips.

"Feeling okay, that wasn't too much, pretty baby?" he asked, genuine concern making his brows furrow.

You moved a thumb up to smooth the creases, kissing him softly on the nose with a small giggle. "Felt really good, Bradley. Gonna need some help walking, for sure though."

He chuckled at this, kissing your lips this time, deep and slow.

"I can help with that," he told you as he pulled out, both of you wincing at the loss. He quickly picked you up bridal style and carried you into the house, only letting your feet touch the ground as he set you down on the edge of the guest room bathtub.

Bradley moved to start the water, running his fingers under it to make sure it wasn't too warm or too cold before plugging the tub.

His big hands came down to frame your face, fingers a little wet, but you leaned into his touch regardless. "Gonna go grab our stuff outside and start a pot of tea and come back, okay?" he asked, searching your eyes. You smiled at him, and he leaned down once more to capture your soft lips between his own, the brush of his mustache making you giggle into the kiss.

"I love you, Bradley," you told him, lip now pulled between your teeth as you looked sheepishly at him.

But the man smiled wider than you had ever seen as he began to pepper kisses all over your face and head. You giggled at this, hands coming up to hold his which still framed your face.

"I love you so much," he told you, coming down to peck your lips once more, but the sound of the whine made you and Bradley turn towards the entrance of the bathroom.

Ducky huffed, lying on the cool hardwood, making you and Bradley laugh.

freddie is unbelievably down bad for you. it’s obvious in everything he does—how he speaks to you in that low, raspy voice that gets you hot. how he treats you like you’re the most precious thing in his orbit. because the thing is, being love by your husband never comes quietly.

it’s in the way he looks at you like he still can’t believe you’re real, even after the ring, even after the house, even after years of waking up tangled together in the same sheets. it’s ridiculous, honestly. sometimes embarrassing, even. the kind of devotion people write songs about and swear can’t actually exist.

expect you’re living proof that it does.

because freddie would do anything for you.

you mention liking a certain brand of tea once, and suddenly the cabinet is stocked with every flavor they make. you complain about your feet hurting after a long day, and he’s on the floor in front of the couch before you can even ask, hands warm against your ankles, grinning when you call him dramatic. he remembers every tiny thing—how you like your coffee (black, one and a half sugars. almond milk added in the spring), which side of the bed you sleep on when you’re upset (the middle because you’re petty), -‘d the exact look you get when you’re pretending not to want attention.

and he’s so gone for you that he doesn’t even try to hide it.

his friends and teammates tease him constantly. hell, even your friends do too. they’ll make comments about how whipped he is, how pathetic he looks trailing after you at parties, eyes fixed on you like you hung the moon yourself. but freddie just laughs every single time, arm sliding around your waist while he says, “yeah, and?”

because to him, loving you like this isn’t humiliating. It’s the easiest thing he’s ever done. which is exactly how you ended up here now.

you’d made one passing comment at the beginning of summer about wanting a pool. not even seriously—just a distracted little “god, imagine having a pool right now” while sweating through a heatwave on the back patio of your carolina home. but your husband was already googling local landscaping places to deliver you just that.

so you weren’t even surprised when three weeks later, construction trucks started showing up.

and now there’s a massive in ground pool glittering in the middle of your backyard, sunlight dancing across the water while freddie lounges in a chair nearby looking entirely too pleased with himself simply because you’re beaming.

“all for me?” you had teased, stepping into his line of sight. looking entirely too beautiful in a tiny bikini you’d thrown on that morning—now suddenly feels very tiny under the weight of his attention as he gazes at you. sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as his eyes dragged over you, completely shameless, mouth parting slightly.

“jesus christ,” he muttered in danish under his breath.

you just laugh, shameless and feeling so in love before dropping onto his lap with a shameless straddle. then immediately started pressing kisses to his burnt cheeks and stubble covered jawline.

he moans under your, hands finding the hump of your ass to keep you close against him. “I bought you a pool,” freddie says, like this somehow proves a point. “you can’t come out here looking like that after I bought you a pool.”

you giggled again, pulling back just enough to meet his half lidded gaze. your bottom lip finds home between your teeth, sultry without even trying. “I love it baby,” a kiss to his already awaiting lips, “how can I show my gratefulness?”

that’s how you end up here—in the brand new, heated, pool. blue and turquoise tiles slippery against your back with your husband pressing you against them.

freddie’s got you held open and exposed, bikini bottoms abandoned in a wet heap on the side of the pool, because no half assed, pulled to the side works with him. not in your own house—in your brand new pool nonetheless. and with that, you’re at the perfect spot for him to thrust into your awaiting, greedy entrance. sucking him in like a vacuum.

you’re moaning with it, desperate for more. with every lazy, yet somehow perfectly executed thrust, your clit smacks against his pelvis. sending the water up your bare torsos and over the edge of the pool like an erotic, choline filled porno.

your small hands dig into his shoulders before sliding up to his neck, holding him tight, grounding yourself. “freddie,” you gasp, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes when he delivers a particularly beautiful, sharp thrust into you. “please.”

lips parted, heat crawling down his neck and giving him a sexy flush, your husband meets your needy gaze without stopping the attack on your fluttering pussy. “feel good baby?” his chest is heaving against yours, adding more delicious pressure. “like when i’m fucking you like this?”

you can only mewl, leaning forward in search of a sloppy kiss. and it’s like he knows what you’re asking for, because he gives you a toothy, sloppy kiss without a beat.

“god,” freddie curses, momentarily looking through the distorted water, watching his cock impale you like it’s a brand new sight and not something he’s witnessed hundreds of times. “you look so fucking pretty like this. my pretty wife in her pretty pool.”

it’s usual praise he gives you when you’re having sex, but that doesn’t mean your body is immune to hearing it, and the way your inner walls slicken and flutter afterwards is an indication of so.

“I’m close,” you tell him, even though your husband knows your body well enough to be well aware of your approaching climax—sometimes even before you are. “please don’t stop,” you whine.

he doesn’t stop, but instead, he increases the speed of his thrusts, using his sheer size and strength to keep you spread and held up for him. it probably burns your inner thighs, but you can’t even tell. not now. if anything, you’re craving that pain coupled with pleasure that only your husband could ever grace upon you.

“oh my, fuck—baby,” freddie grunts, dragging you impossibly closer against him. at this point, it’s more grinding and rubbing than anything else, but it’s honestly perfect. because your pebbles nipples are getting friction against his hair littered chest, and your puffy clit is perfectly gliding against the beat patch of hair above his length.

and just like that, you’re cumming with a shout too loud considering that even though they’re pretty far, you do have neighbours. but that’s something that freddie secretly love about it—your sheer volume. another way to tell everyone that you’re his.