𝑺𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑼𝑻𝑬𝑺 /𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑦 𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑘/ ✓

16.

ROWAN

The barbecue party to which we were forced to attend, courtesy of my father, used to be very chic, I remember.

I had expected these gatherings to be no different since I left town. Still the same influential faces and shop window wives. To the coach's credit, he was usually not the one behind the organisation, and not even his wife, who also hates luxury, but the chairman of the committee, who was pushing every professional he could from the area. But this is different.

People in dressy clothes, stroll around the vast courtyard. They're drinking beer, laughing, and relaxing, which is not usually the case at these kinds of parties. Thanks again to the sudden good weather, we didn't have to dress up like a snowman. It still makes the air sting the exposed skin on my arm. It might be worth moving closer to the barbecue ovens.

Millie and I, on the other hand, dressed up like we were going to a wedding.

"We look like clowns," I lean towards her.

"We look pretty," she strokes my arm, sending shivers down my spine. My girl looks wonderful in her long, knitted dress. This deep green colour brings out her eyes and dark hair. Her tattoo is hidden by the material of the dress, but I know exactly where those lovely lines run. Last night I explored the area thoroughly with my tongue as she writhed beneath me like a Sex Goddess in a state of ecstasy.

"Rowan!" a familiar male voice bursts from the recesses of my perverse memory. I try to push the naked image of my girlfriend out of my mind... Millie's eyes widen as her butt presses against me and she turns back to me.

"I hope that's for me, and not how you're going to greet the man coming towards us."

Of course it's for her.

My old coach strides towards us with a big grin on his face.

"Coach Jacobs!" I laugh out loud because, hell, I really missed that man.

"Hi son" he hugs me and I hesitantly return the bear hug. Now as tall as me, but he's even wider than me. What can I say, he keeps himself in good shape. His dark hair still has those grey hairs in it, and I'm about to make a comment when he points at me with a stern look.

"I wasn't going to," I grin, and pull Millie to me. "Coach, this is my girlfriend, Millie Zakharov."

"It's very nice to meet you" she shakes his hand politely, and Jacobs blinks in surprise, as if he doesn't understand what's happening.

"Wait, what? Is this really happening?" he asks, stunned.

"Very funny coach" I mutter dryly, but he just won't stop.

"The last time I thought someone was his girlfriend, this dumbass told me, "Ew, coach, I don't have a girlfriend, get off the subject."

"So, ugh?" grins Millie, and I feel like wiping that smile off her face. With my mouth.

"Baby, you're different," I reply sincerely, and get a little lost in her gaze. I remember Jacobs tapping me on the shoulder.

"Good, then I understand everything," he laughs. Asshole. His wife chooses this moment to finally show up, like a saving angel. Angela walks up to us with a wide, million watt grin on her face and shakes her head in disbelief, causing the curls in her dark, curly hair to limp.

"Rowan Queen. You've grown."

"I wasn't small before. Hi Angela."

"Of course, but you're even bigger now," she gestures with her hands. "And what I don't understand is what a beautiful girl like her is doing next to you."