“I’ve been thinking about how you’re going to want a pre-nup—”
“Whoa! Wait, what?” If I was still half-asleep a moment ago, I’m definitely not now.
She lifts her eyes slowly. She’s biting her lip. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? You want to protect yourself.” She gestures to the room. “This.”
Three o’clock in the morning is a super shitty time to have this discussion, but clearly it’s something she’s been thinking about for a while. “I’m not going to make you sign a pre-nup.”
“You’re not?”
Her surprise is almost offensive.
“But you’ve worked so hard for everything you have, and I make less than one percent of what you make a year. Logically you should want one.”
“Did my mom say something to you?” I’ll be seriously pissed if she did.
“No.”
“But someone must’ve.”
She drops her chin again. I sit up, because I can’t stand it when I can’t see her face. I urge her chin up with a finger. “Baby, look at me. Who said I wanted a pre-nup?”
“Dean might’ve mentioned something—”
“That dick knob you work with?”
“He has a point, Alex. At first the idea kind of hurt, but I would understand if you wanted one. You have a lot of money, and you’ve worked hard for it. I just…”
I sit back against the headboard and pull her with me so she’s straddling my lap, facing me. “Listen to me, Violet. You and me, we’re meant for each other. Do you agree?”
“Well, yeah, of course. The Super MC and my beave are soulmates, so logically that means the rest of our bodies are soulmates, too.”
I laugh, because this is one of the many reasons I love her. There is no one else in the world who compares to Violet. “And soulmates are forever, right?”
She nods.
“So that means I’m yours, and you’re mine. I don’t need a pre-nup to make you question my faith in us. I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you, Violet Hall.”
She smiles. “And my boobs—don’t forget them.”
“They were already included in the package deal.”
“I’m sorry I woke you up in the middle of the night to ask you a stupid question.” She presses her lips to mine.
“It wasn’t a stupid question.”
“It was a stupid time to ask it. I could make it up to you?”
There isn’t anything to make up, but if she’s interested in sex again, I have a semi brewing that could easily turn into a full hard-on with the right amount of coaxing. “What do you have in mind?”
Violet pulls the night shirt over her head. “I’d like to go for a Super MC ride, if you’re interested.”
-&-
Despite this auspicious start to our planning, the weeks that follow are challenging, though not because of the wedding stuff and Violet. Well, mostly not because of those things. My mom is still an issue. While she seemed fine with our chosen location for the wedding, she hasn’t given up on alternate location options. She’s also struggling with the concept of small.
It doesn’t seem that difficult to understand a number less than a hundred, but she keeps arguing that all these people came to the engagement party, so they should attend the wedding as well.
I keep reminding her how that whole event turned out, but apparently downplaying the severity of Violet’s hives to a tiny allergic reaction is her go-to defense.
Yesterday she texted me three alternate locations, none of them available on the date we’ve chosen. It’s driving me mental.
Violet’s been going to the office more often now that I’m back to training with the team. I like that she has that flexibility, and that I can count on morning blow jobs or sex on the days she stays home. She’s a lot more relaxed about the work situation. It’s progress.
Today is one of her office days, and I’m off to the gym to train with Darren, so I’m not too disappointed. I plan to keep her up late tonight since she’s not going in tomorrow.
Darren picks me up. It’s good to be seeing him on the regular again. Me being off the ice and out of the training routine has cut into guy time. We’ve been tight for the past six years, so it’s another thing I’m glad to have back to normal.
Training with the team is good and bad, because I can see how much ground I’ve lost being out the past six weeks.
Coach wants me to have realistic expectations, as does my team of doctors and the physical therapist. My right shoulder is weak, and reconditioning is going to be slow. But I didn’t get where I am by taking things easy, and I definitely don’t plan to start now. At least there’s no figure skating required for rehab.
Next week I’m allowed back on the ice for practice, but on game days I’ll continue to sit my ass on the bench and watch everyone else doing what I should be.
The team dynamic has shifted; Ballistic seems to be a new favorite. He’s getting lots of ice time and scoring goals almost every game. He’s an excellent player, and the team is solid. Playoffs are on the horizon, and it looks like we might make it. And that would be primarily because of him.
I really want to hate him. Part of me does because he threatens my position, but the other part of me is glad he’s meshing with the team and we’re not lagging behind as bad as we were in the middle of the season. We’re still not in a great place, though, so who knows what will happen. If we make it far enough, I might have a chance to play at least a couple of games. Maybe. If I’m lucky.