Untitled

can you fix a broken heart

Synopsis: Azzi learns three things: never trust a toddler, never let your team meet your situationship, and never underestimate Paige in a green flannel.

warnings: drinking, emotional embarrassment, smut

WC: 6k

chapter 10:

Azzi strolled into the kitchen with a half-filled mimosa clutched in her hand. 

The chef she’d hired, Cammie, was shuffling between the counters, calm and unbothered, auburn hair pulled back, apron spotless despite the chaos radiating from the rest of the house. Platters were already lined up, waiting to be filled, champagne and fresh fruit juices chilling in an oversized bucket for the mimosas, pastries arranged carefully. Cammie had catered events for Azzi before, and certainly put out a better spread than Azzi could have pulled off if left to her own devices. 

“Everything good?” Azzi asked.

Cammie smiled, waving Azzi off with a flick of her wrist. “All under control. You go relax.”

Azzi nodded, relieved, and refilled her mimosa. Relax was relative, though. Hosting her entire team for brunch felt like inviting a small tornado into her house and trusting it not to tear the place apart. So far so good, though it’d only been thirty minutes. 

She carried her glass with her as she headed back toward the living room, mentally running through a checklist of things she didn’t actually need to worry about, when her phone buzzed in her hand.

She glanced down absently, then stopped walking.

It was a message from Paige. More specifically, a selfie from Paige.

She wore light wash jeans, with a green flannel hanging open like it had been thrown over her wrinkled white tee without much thought. A brown Carhartt beanie was pulled low over her hair, and as usual, Paige was making an exaggerated scrunchy face. The one Azzi’d become accustomed to with her lips pushed forward and eyebrows knit together in mock seriousness.

It was cute and disarming. Also entirely endearing, though she’s certain that’s not what Paige was going for. 

Azzi felt her mouth curve into a smile before she could stop it. She leaned her shoulder against the wall, letting herself enjoy this version of Paige for a second. The confidence and ease. The way she wasn’t holding back anymore. These little exchanges had become more familiar over the last couple of days, the kind of back and forth that usually ended with photos Azzi pretended not to archive, all tucked into a very private album on her phone that she absolutely never scrolled through when she was bored or lonely. 

She typed back a single response.

Azzi: 😍

Feeling bold, Azzi typed another before she could second-guess it, and hit send. 

Azzi: What ya got on under it?

She barely hit send before her phone buzzed again. 

Paige: greedy girl

Still, the next reply came almost instantly, like Paige had been waiting for the invitation to send it.

This time, the scrunchy face was still there, but now it carried an edge, hunger threaded straight through it.

Paige stood in front of a mirror, stripped down to a matching gray Calvin Klein set. Her fingers were tucked casually into the waistband of her boxers, resting just inside like it was completely casual, like she couldn’t just slide them down a few inches and touch that perfect pussy. 

Azzi swallowed the lump in her throat.

It wasn’t the first photo like this she’d gotten, but it still sucked the air from her lungs. The one from last night floated up uninvited in her memory. After the loss to the Liberty, she’d been slumped in her seat on the team charter, pissed off and replaying mistakes she couldn’t undo. Paige had sent it without warning—sprawled across her bed, bare torso on display, sheets pooled low at her waist. One hand disappeared beneath the covers. Paired with the not at all subtle caption, wish these were your hands touching me, Azzi hadn’t needed to guess what those long fingers were doing down there.

That picture was a surprise she hadn’t known she needed, and maybe her pulse spiked, and maybe it had nothing to do with Gabby’s nosy ass trying to peek over her shoulder.

This one, though, was different. It was brighter and more teasing, but objectively, still just as sexy. 

Azzi locked her phone and exhaled slowly, steadying herself before anyone could notice the sudden shift in her expression. Her body was very aware of the image now burned behind her eyes.

Later, she thought wryly. She’d definitely be using that picture later when she was lonely in bed.

A dangerous thought followed close behind. She could invite Paige over after tonight’s sponsor event, get the real thing instead of a screen. But it would be late and she had a game tomorrow. She was supposed to be a responsible adult, not a horny teenager with poor impulse control.

She pushed off the wall and continued down the hall, forcing herself back into the present as laughter and the clink of dishes surrounded her.

Brunch first.

Everything else would have to wait.

She was just about to slide her phone into her pocket as she stepped back into the living room, when the screen lit up one more time.

Paige: you got something for me?

Azzi’s mouth curved. A slow, knowing smirk she saw absolutely did not have time for right now.

“Wow,” Skylar said from the couch, eyes narrowing immediately. “What’s got you all smiley and blushing over there, Fudd?”

Azzi’s head snapped up. She shoved her phone into her pocket so fast it was a miracle she didn’t drop it. “Nothing,” she said quickly, too quickly, immediately regretting everything about that response.

Nneka didn’t even look up from the game she was watching on TV. “She’s probably texting hot contractor girl.”

Azzi shot a look across the room at Sarah and Gabby, both of whom suddenly found the pastries on their plates very interesting. She hated them for circulating that nickname through the team even if it was, annoyingly, very accurate.

Dom chimed in from the couch, too casual to be innocent. “Is that the hot blonde chick Azzi always talks to after games now?”

Azzi exhaled through her nose. Also accurate. Still rude as hell.

“She has a name,” Azzi said automatically. “Paige,” she added after a few seconds ticked by. “And no, I’m not.”

The lie slid out smoothly, which only made Sarah’s drawn-out, sing-song response worse.

“Okaaaay, Azzi.”

Sarah made a face, one eyebrow lifting as she studied Azzi with open skepticism, but Azzi refused to engage, already regretting ever letting any of them meet Paige in the first place. 

Ignoring Sarah and her stupid little judgmental look, Azzi took a long sip of her drink, doing her best to school her expression back into something neutral. Mostly because the alternative, admitting the truth, involved being relentlessly harassed for the rest of the day by quite possibly the nosiest group of women on the planet.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pretended not to notice as she sank down onto the floor at the foot of the chaise lounge. 

Just then, a tiny blur of chaos exploded off the couch from beside Gabby. 

“Pee pee potty!” Julien shouted, launching himself onto the floor and sprinting toward the hallway with the urgency of someone whose needs could not wait another second.

Azzi blinked slowly, tracking him with her eyes as he disappeared around the corner. “Uh,” she said, glancing at Gabby. “He good on his own?”

Gabby waved a hand, completely unconcerned. “He’s fine. He goes by himself at home all the time.”

Azzi hesitated for half a second, then shrugged, taking a sip of her mimosa. She told herself not to worry. It was just a bathroom, and what was the worst that could happen in five minutes?

Five minutes later, it became aggressively clear that despite Gabby’s insistence, Julien had, in fact, not been good on his own.

Azzi was still curled up at the foot of the chaise lounge, half-listening to a story Skylar was telling, when a shrill little cry cut cleanly through the noise of the house.

“Maman!”

The room stilled for half a second before heads turned toward the stairs. Azzi’s stomach dropped. Sarah, who was passing the stairs on her way back from the kitchen, reacted first. She started jogging up the staircase two steps at a time. Azzi followed close behind, Gabby on her heels.

The bathroom door flew open and Julien burst out into the hallway, eyes wide, water splashing around his socks as he ran straight for Sarah. 

“Oh no, no, no,” Sarah said, scooping him up and backing away as water seeped out of the bathroom behind him, spilling across the hardwood floor.

She barely spared the scene another glance before calling out, “Uhhh, Azzi? You might want to call hot contractor girl!”

Azzi set her mimosa down on the banister, adrenaline kicking in as she and Gabby rushed toward the bathroom. The closer she got, the worse it looked. Water sloshed underfoot as the toilet made wet, gurgling sounds that did not seem good. At all. 

She leaned over and looked into the bowl.

Tampons, plural, as in more than one, plus an entire roll of toilet paper were mashed down into the toilet like Julien had been very determined to see this little experiment through.

Azzi closed her eyes and dragged a hand down her face, blowing out a deep breath to rein in her thinning patience.

Gabby hovered beside her, peering in with a wince. “Yeah,” she said slowly, guilt creeping into her voice. “We definitely need to call hot contractor girl.”

She paused, pulling Julien out of Sarah's arms, then added quickly, “I’ll cover this bill. Seriously.”

Azzi shook her head, exhaling through a laugh that was only half amused. Not that she could ever really be mad at Julien, but fuck if she wasn’t a little annoyed at the whole situation. 

“At this point, I’m going to need to put Paige on retainer for every time you come over.”

She stared at the flooded bathroom, resigned. So much for a calm brunch. And so much for not being relentlessly harassed by the nosiest group of women on the planet, because she definitely did need to call her hot contractor girl.

Azzi retreated to the quietest room she could find, which wasn’t very quiet at all, but at least had a door she could close and was far enough away from the sopping wet bathroom. She pulled her phone out, hesitated for half a second, then hit Paige’s name before she could overthink it.

Paige answered on the third ring.

“Uh, hey,” she said, her voice slightly breathless, layered with background noise. “What’s up?”

She sounded caught off guard, which immediately made Azzi’s pulse tick up.

“So,” Azzi started, pacing her bedroom. “I might have a bit of a problem.”

There was a pause, then Paige laughed. “What did Gabby do now?”

Azzi felt heat creep up her neck, thinking of the way Paige had once eyed the mysterious hole in her wall like Gabby had taken a hammer to it out of spite. She was only half wrong. It had been her elbow. 

“Actually,” she said, clearing her throat, “it was her son, Julien. He kind of… unwrapped a bunch of tampons and tried to flush them… with an entire roll of toilet paper.” She paused. “And now the toilet’s flooding.”

On the other end of the line, Paige sighed. It was long, like this was not on her to do list for the day. It certainly wasn’t on Azzi’s either, but here they were. 

“Okay,” Paige said calmly. “Can you turn the water off?”

Azzi stopped pacing. “Um,” she said, staring at the wall racking her brain for a response. “What?”

Paige chuckled. Then there was muffled talking, the sound shifting around as if Paige had covered the phone. It reminded Azzi of listening to a conversation underwater, fragments of words she couldn’t quite catch. 

“I can call someone else,” Azzi quickly added. “You sound busy and it’s really not—”

Azzi didn’t even get to finish her sentence before Paige cut back in, clearer this time. “Absolutely not,” she said, leaving no room for question. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Relief washed through Azzi so fast it almost made her dizzy. “Thank you,” she said, sincere. “I owe you.”

The words hung between them, loaded in a way that made her stomach somersault.

Paige didn’t miss it, and Azzi could picture the smug little smile curling up her flushed cheeks.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Paige drawled with a soft laugh. “But I’ll have Nika with me,” she added. “We were just finishing up brunch.”

Azzi heard someone yell something in the background, presumably Nika, before the phone shifted again and she swore she heard Paige tell her to shut the fuck up. Didn’t seem too far-fetched considering their relationship .

“Well,” Azzi said, smiling despite the lion’s den they were both walking themselves into, “I’ve got my entire team over, so why not make it even weirder.”

Paige laughed. “Of course you do. I’ll see you in a few.” 

Azzi hung up, exhaling as she leaned her head back against the wall, already bracing herself for whatever kind of chaos this whole debacle was about to bring.

*************

Paige and Nika arrived together, the door barely shutting behind them before the noise from the living room redirected itself straight at the entryway.

Paige stepped inside first, tool bag slung over her shoulder, eyes lifting as she took in the sight of Azzi’s entire team spread across the living room like it was the Storm locker room. Every single one of them was staring at her. Not subtly, either. Heads tilted. Expressions curious. A few smiles already bordering on smug.

Paige hesitated, then lifted her hand in a small, awkward wave. “Hey.”

Azzi cleared her throat, wondering how awkward this must be for Paige. For many many reasons. 

“Uh. Everyone, this is Paige,” she said like the whole room didn’t already know exactly who she was, then gestured toward the woman beside her. “And her friend, Nika.”

A chorus of greetings followed. They were polite on the surface, but layered with something underneath. Azzi caught the looks and exchanged glances, and for a moment, considered just letting her whole house flood rather than subject herself, and Paige, to whatever was coming their way. If the other night at the bar was any indication, her dignity had absolutely no chance of escaping this brunch unscathed.

Paige shifted her weight, clearly aware of it too.

Before Azzi could steer the moment somewhere safer and far less awkward, Julien appeared out of nowhere, skidding to a stop in front of Paige. He stared wide-eyed at the tool bag, then up at Paige. Then at Nika. Then back at Azzi and Gabby.

“Which one is hot contractor girl?” he asked, loud and curious.

Azzi felt her soul leave her fucking body.

Heat rushed to her face so fast she was sure everyone in the room could feel it radiating. Behind her, someone snorted. Then a laugh slipped out, followed by a ripple of barely contained amusement.

Nika’s mouth fell open. Not in shock. No. Azzi could tell it was in pure unadulterated delight.

Paige squatted down to Julien’s level, cheeks flushing, but didn’t miss a beat as she ruffled his dark, curly hair. “I think that’s me, bud,” she said lightly, eyes flicking to Azzi with a smirk that absolutely did not help the situation. Or the churning in Azzi’s stomach. 

Azzi had already seen the fit Paige was wearing on her phone, already clocked how good it looked in the picture. Seeing it in person was different. Worse. Better. Who knows. Certainly not Azzi, who was already struggling to form a coherent thought for many reasons. 

The perfectly casual jeans, the brown beanie pulled low, ears just peeking out. And the green flannel that looked so soft and cozy that Azzi was already mentally workshopping a scenario consisting of flirtation, distraction, and mild chaos that might result in Paige leaving without it. And of course, never getting it back.

The fabric stretched in all the right places when Paige stood back up and met Azzi’s eyes again like she knew exactly what she was doing.

Azzi had the sudden, intrusive urge to grab fistfuls of that flannel and strip it off her right there, consequences be damned.

Paige seemed to read the thought behind Azzi’s look with ease, her smirk lingering like she was daring Azzi to do something about it, knowing full well she absolutely could not. Not in a room full of her teammates at least. But if Azzi could get her alone... 

Gabby lunged for her son, laughing as she tried to grab him. “Okay, that’s enough, Jules. Come here.”

Julien dodged her grip with the impressive flexibility and agility of a three year old. “So you’re the one that cleans Auntie Azzi’s pipes?” he continued as he peered up at Paige with the most innocent smile, completely unaware of the nuclear bomb he was dropping. “That’s what Maman and Aunt Sarah said earlier.”

Gabby lost it. Laughing so hard she had to clamp a hand over her mouth, then Julien’s as she scooped him up and marched away, still shaking with amusement.

The room erupted, and Azzi turned just in time to see the color instantly drain from Paige’s face. The confident smirk vanished, replaced by something more stunned, her shoulders stiffening slightly as the laughter echoed around them.

“I’m sorry,” Azzi mouthed, absolutely mortified, the realization quickly setting in that Julien was absolutely Gabby’s son. An agent of chaos just like his mom. 

Paige let out a sigh, a deep one that made another wave of guilt wash over Azzi. But then she shook her head, squared her shoulders like someone who had survived far worse, which judging from her friend group, might very well be the case. By the time Paige looked back up, she had the hint of a smile again.

Azzi exhaled slowly. If nothing else, Paige clearly had thick skin. Which was good, because she was definitely going to need it.

“Why don’t you show me what we’re working with,” Paige said, extending a hand towards the stairs like she was begging for a reason to leave the makeshift interrogation room. 

Azzi nodded, relieved when Sarah mercifully steered Nika toward the kitchen under the promise of a mimosa she absolutely did not need. If Azzi’s memory served her right, Nika got loose lips when she drank, the kind that turned casual observations into loudly shared opinions. But the last thing Azzi needed was anyone else hovering, narrating whatever this thing was between her and Paige, so she let Sarah pull Nika away.

Paige fell into step beside her as they headed for the stairs. They climbed together, shoulder to shoulder, and when they reached the landing, Paige slowed, eyes flicking to the railing that was a slight casualty of the last time they were up there. 

She reached out and gave it a subtle test wiggle. It held, but she still smirked at Azzi, just a little, knowing exactly what memory she’d stir up.

Azzi rolled her eyes, heat spreading through her body anyway, and kept walking.

Thankfully, the damage in the bathroom was mostly contained now.

The water had stopped spreading, thanks to a combination of quick thinking and Nneka’s surprising familiarity with shutoff valves. The floor was still a little damp, and smelled faintly of bleach, but that was better than what had existed twenty minutes prior. 

Paige set her tool bag down and surveyed the toilet, hands on her hips, but it was clear her mind was elsewhere. Although so was Azzi’s, her thoughts drifting to how comfy that flannel would feel later, after her sponsor dinner, when she slipped it on after a shower, wrapping herself in warmth. And maybe, Paige’s tantalizing scent. 

“So,” Paige said casually, glancing over her shoulder, “I’m hot contractor girl, huh?”

Azzi felt heat creep up her neck again and flood across her cheeks. Absolutely yes you are, her brain supplied immediately. Outwardly, she shrugged, forcing herself to play it cool. 

“I mean,” she said, “if the shoe fits, I guess.”

She hesitated, then added, unable to help herself, “And based on those pics you’ve been sending… Yeah. I’d say it fits.”

Paige’s grin was dangerous. She straightened, stepping closer. Hooking her long fingers into Azzi’s belt loops, she tugged. Azzi let herself go effortlessly, closing the space between them. 

“Thought you needed a little something until I could get my hands back on you and get you right," Paige murmured, cocky smirk on her lips. 

The audacity, Azzi thought, not that she was complaining. Not that Paige was in any way wrong. 

Trying to maintain the upper hand, Azzi scoffed, despite the fact that she absolutely had touched herself to those photos last night. The sound barely made it past her lips before Paige kissed her.

It was quick at first, teasing almost. Then not at all as Paige’s hands slid to her backside, slipping below the fabric of her jeans and palming her ass. Azzi melted into it, hands skimming under the back of Paige’s shirt, feeling soft skin and warmth and tight muscle under her palms, which was so much better than anything her imagination could supply. Paige tasted like coffee and citrus, and the way her tongue slipped into Azzi’s mouth made her knees go weak.

And despite the fact that her knees were wobbling and her body was screaming for Paige’s touch while loudly protesting any idea of restraint, Azzi was absolutely not about to let herself get fucked in a bathroom for the second time in as many days. 

Without warning, Azzi surged forward, pressing Paige back against the bathroom counter. Paige made a startled sound that turned into a laugh, then a gasp as Azzi kissed her again, harder this time to leave no room for question. Her lips dropped to Paige’s neck, sucking and kissing hard enough to leave marks.

“Your team is downstairs,” Paige warned, though she wasn’t doing anything to actually pull away. If anything her hands splayed across Azzi’s ass were pulling her in closer, her hips canting forward, searching. 

“And they were a hundred feet away at the bar the other day,” Azzi shot back, lips still attached to Paige’s neck, relishing the soft sighs slipping from the blonde. “That didn’t stop you from fucking me in the bathroom.”

Paige tried to say something else, maybe to argue that they were also separated by a bar and hundreds of people and blaring music, but Azzi cut her off. She didn’t want to hear it, wasn’t in the mood for excuses or anything that would hold her back from what she wanted. Which was her fingers in Paige’s cunt, and the blonde moaning in her ear.

“Better be quiet then, baby,” Azzi whispered, her lips brushing Paige’s ear before she caught her lobe between her teeth, biting down just enough to make her gasp.

Paige sucked in a sharp breath, eyes flying open as Azzi’s hand slipped confidently into her boxers.

“Fuck, Az,” Paige breathed as Azzi cupped her.

Azzi tipped her head back, biting her bottom lip when she felt just how soaked Paige already was. “You’re so wet,” she groaned, fingers slipping lower, gathering Paige's arousal before rubbing it onto her clit.

“All for you, baby,” Paige murmured, breath hot against Azzi’s ear, sounding like she’d found her footing again.

Azzi had no intention of letting her keep it.

Her thumb traced slow, deliberate circles while her fingers teased, sliding in shallowly before pulling back out again. Paige’s hips rocked forward instinctively, chasing the contact.

“Fuck, Az,” she moaned, her voice breathless. “I need you inside, baby.” 

Azzi smirked. She had half a mind to stretch this out, to make Paige beg for it, wipe that smug grin off her face. But Azzi was barely holding on herself. She leaned up to kiss Paige’s neck again, tilting her head back with her free hand so she could lick and suck at the sensitive spot behind her ear. Then she sunk two fingers deep inside her soaking wet cunt.

Paige’s body jolted, a loud moan tearing from her throat as her hips careened off the counter.

And Azzi loved it, loved knowing she was making Paige feel this good. But she didn’t love the idea of everyone downstairs—who surely would not let them live it down—knowing how good she was making Paige feel. 

She pulled her mouth away and slapped a hand over Paige’s lips, her gaze dark and heated. Her fingers withdrew just enough to make Paige whine.

“I thought I told you to be quiet,” Azzi said calmly.

“Az,” Paige pleaded, hips tipping forward again like she was trying to coax Azzi’s fingers back inside. “Please.”

“Are you going to be a good girl and be quiet for me?” Azzi asked, surprised by the authority in her own voice.

She’d never thought of herself as particularly domineering, but something about Paige like this—panting and desperate and completely undone—pulled it out of her. Maybe that instinct had always been there, buried under years of shrinking herself in a marriage that taught her to want less. Or maybe it was new. Either way, the way Paige’s eyes went wide, wild and hungry at the challenge made one thing clear.

Azzi didn’t want to stop.

Paige nodded frantically, eyes still blown wide, desperation written all over her face.

“Say it.”

“I’ll be quiet,” Paige huffed, grabbing Azzi’s wrist like she was trying to guide her fingers back in.

Azzi obliged, pushing three fingers in this time, deeper, firmer, stretching Paige’s cunt.

Paige’s shallow pants of pleasure fell easily from her lips; her body trembled, winding tighter with each stroke of Azzi's fingers. 

“You like that?” Azzi asked. 

And Paige, who looked wrecked, could only nod.

“I’m gonna—fuck, Azzi—” Paige gasped, her hips bucking wildly. “I’m gonna cum.”

Azzi’s pace quickened, her other hand gripping Paige’s hip to hold her still as she leaned in and kissed her, swallowing every broken sound. Paige came hard, body shaking as Azzi worked her through it, slowing only when she felt the blonde go soft beneath her touch.

Azzi slipped her fingers free and brought them to her mouth, eyes closing as she licked them clean.

“Fuck,” Paige breathed, watching her like she might combust. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Azzi smirked, eyes dark with desire, and kissed her again, deep and unhurried.

They stayed like that for a moment, chests heaving, until Paige’s mouth began to trail along Azzi’s collarbone, then up her neck.

Paige shifted them suddenly, turning the tables, her tongue brushing Azzi’s ear and sending a jolt straight through her.

“Let’s go to your bedroom,” Paige murmured, clearly no longer giving a single fuck that Azzi’s entire team was downstairs. “Let me get you back and make you feel good, baby. I need to taste you again.”

The need in her voice made Azzi ache. Enough to make her wet. Well, wetter. Her underwear was already ruined.

“But my teammates are right downstairs,” Azzi joked lightly.

Paige didn’t find it funny. 

“I’on give a fuck,” she mumbled against her neck, gripping Azzi’s jaw between her long fingers and tilting it. 

Heat followed the path of Paige’s mouth, spreading fast and dizzying, pooling low and blurring everything else out. And honestly? Azzi didn’t care either. Not when Paige was looking at her like that. Kissing her like that. Like Azzi’s pleasure was the only thing that mattered in the world. It had been years since she’d felt wanted like this. Years since someone had cared whether she felt good. Mark had stopped giving a fuck long before the marriage ended.

Azzi grabbed a fistful of Paige’s shirt and dragged her out of the bathroom and into the hall.

Paige laughed in surprise, the sound cutting off when she scooped Azzi up under the thighs without breaking stride. Azzi let out a startled giggle as her legs wrapped instinctively around Paige’s waist, arms curling around her shoulders and threading into her hair like it was second nature. 

For a brief, hazy second, Azzi’s brain glitched entirely.

Too many clothes, she thought vaguely. Entirely too many.

Her fingers dropped, fisting into the soft green flannel draped around Paige, as a thought took root. 

She tugged hard, peeling the flannel off Paige’s shoulders and tossing it blindly behind her as they stumbled into the bedroom. It landed in a heap on the floor, exactly where Azzi hoped it would stay. Forgotten. Abandoned. Hers.

Paige made an amused sound against her neck, clearly clocking the move, but didn’t comment.

“Auntie Azzi!” Julien’s voice echoed from the other side of the room. “What’s all this?”

Paige froze.

Not metaphorically, either. Fully, catastrophically froze. Her hands slipped as panic flashed across her face, and Azzi let out a startled yelp as Paige abruptly dropped her back onto her feet with no warning. Paige stumbled back half a step, blue eyes blown wide and wild, still dark with hunger but now unmistakably spooked.

“Jesus—sorry,” Paige blurted, hands hovering like she wasn’t sure where it was safe to touch anymore, before deciding to tuck them in her pockets.

Azzi’s heart was pounding, laughter bubbling up even as she steadied herself. The moment was now shattered, desire giving way to adrenaline and embarrassment in equal measure.

So much for subtle.

But that laugh died in her throat when she turned and saw Julien standing beside the bed. The nightstand was open. Wide fucking open. And Julien stood there, peering in with intense interest, while an unmistakable assortment of silicone and chrome sat on full display.

Azzi’s brain shut off.

“Oh my God,” she stammered, lunging forward and slamming the drawer shut so hard it rattled the lamp on top. Her face was on fire as she racked her brain for answers. “Hey, buddy! Uh… why don’t you go downstairs and ask Cammie for the cookies she made?”

Julien’s eyes lit up. “Cookies!”

He bolted out of the room without another word, his footsteps thundering down the stairs.

Azzi stood there, frozen, hands still pressed to the drawer like it might try to betray her again.

Behind her, Paige snorted.

Before Azzi could stop her, Paige nudged her gently aside, tugged the drawer back open, and plucked one of the vibrators out with zero hesitation. She turned it over in her hand, thumb tracing the curve, then looked up at Azzi with a slow, impressed smile.

“That’s quite the collection, Az,” Paige said, amusement thick in her voice.

Azzi groaned and reached for it, taking it from Paige and sliding it back into the drawer, this time closing it more carefully. “I told you I had a shitty marriage,” she said, forcing a laugh. “Had to take care of myself.”

She expected a joke in return. A smirk, or remark that was a heady mix of cocky and flirty. Instead, she saw something shift in Paige’s expression. 

“You know,” Paige said, gently this time, “you don’t have to wait until something breaks in your house to call me. Right?”

Azzi swallowed, suddenly aware of how all this might look. Like she only reached out when she needed something fixed or when she wanted something else entirely. Not that Paige was an unwilling participant, no matter which of Azzi’s needs needed to be addressed. 

“I wasn’t really sure if that’s something you wanted,” Azzi said quickly, hating herself even as the words left her mouth, “I didn’t… want to read into this wrong.”

She winced internally.

Paige studied her for a second, then stepped closer. “You’re not reading this wrong, Az. I want this. I want you.” 

Before Azzi could overthink it further or read into the expression that flashed across Paige’s face, she stepped in and pulled the blonde into a kiss. Paige kissed her back and it was just enough to knock the spiraling thoughts loose. Her hands found Azzi’s waist automatically, fingers sinking in, the bed looming very close behind them like an open invitation. 

Azzi barely had time to register it before Paige pushed her down onto the mattress. She went willingly, breath hitching as she opened her legs instinctively and moaned into the kiss, already wanting more than Paige was giving her. Everything about it felt inevitable, and azzi was exactly where she wanted to be.

Then Julien’s voice echoed up from downstairs.

“Auntie Azzi!” 

They broke apart at the same time, laughing quietly, foreheads touching.

Azzi groaned, dropping her head back against the mattress as reality came crashing down in the least sexy way possible.

Paige exhaled and stood back up. “Okay, okay,” she laughed, though her eyes were still dark with want. “I should probably go fix this toilet before Julien reveals any more of your secrets.”

Azzi shook her head, smiling despite her thundering pulse and soaking wet underwear. 

Paige paused in the doorway. “You got a shrine of me in your closet or something I should know about?”

“Fuck you,” Azzi shot back, fondness in her tone as she followed her into the hall.

Paige grinned, a sly thing that tucked under the apple of her cheeks. “Literally wherever,” she said with a wink. 

Paige leaned in for one last kiss, quick and teasing but enough to send Azzi’s pulse skittering again, before slipping past her into the hall. As Azzi turned to follow, Paige called after her, voice light and smug.

“I’ll just be up here, you know… cleaning your pipes.”

Azzi laughed to herself as she headed back toward the stairs, cheeks still warm, heart pumping entirely too fast for the aftermath of a plumbing emergency. Not that she’d be admitting it to anyone. 

*************

Twenty minutes later, Azzi stood at the counter with the rest of the team, watching plates fill with food as people crowded around the island. Julien sat at the table with a fresh baked cookie in each hand, blissfully unaware of the chaos he’d caused, crumbs already decorating his henley shirt.

Azzi glanced up when she heard footsteps on the creaking stairs. 

Paige appeared at the bottom, wiping her hands on a rag. She caught Azzi’s eye and smiled, easy and unassuming, which was ironic given what had just gone down upstairs. Not that Azzi was letting her mind drift to how wet she was, and how she really wished Paige could finish the job, while standing in the kitchen surrounded by teammates, and Julien. 

The children, Azzi. Think of the children. 

“All set,” Paige said. 

Cheers broke out instantly, loud and exaggerated, followed by a dramatic MVP chant that Sarah started with a slow clap. Paige froze mid-step, her ears turning bright red as she laughed, shaking her head.

“Okay, okay,” Paige said, holding up a hand.

As the noise died down, Azzi stepped forward. “Thank you,” she said, sincerity in her tone. “Seriously.”

Paige shrugged. “Didn’t want it to mess up the hardwood upstairs.”

Azzi tilted her head, unconvinced, but let it go.

“So,” Azzi said, gesturing toward the kitchen. “Do you want to stay for brunch?”

Before Paige could answer, Nika leaned in from her spot near the counter where she held a plate with an expectant look etched into her face. “Yeah, hot contractor girl,” she said with entirely too much joy. “Can we stay for brunch?”

Paige shot her a warning look, but Nika just grinned wider, like she was accepting some unspoken challenge and elbowed Sarah who was smirking beside her. “You know… Since we left the restaurant before our food even came.”

Azzi felt something warm spread through her chest. The fact that Paige had dropped everything, walked out mid-meal, and come straight over. It was followed by a twinge of guilt.

Paige started to wave it off, already reaching for an excuse.

“It’s fine,” Paige said. “I didn’t want to leave you guys dealing with water damage, and—”

Azzi didn’t let her finish, desperate for anything to keep the blonde in her orbit. She grabbed a plate from the stack and pressed it into Paige’s hands, smiling softly. “Eat.”

Paige looked down at the plate, then back up at Azzi, something unreadable flickering across her face before she smiled again.

“Well,” she said, “if you insist.”