“That was, hands down, the best meal I’ve ever eaten on this island.”
50
FREYA
Iblink at Cole, his words floating around me but not really registering. At least, not for a few seconds. But then suddenly, everything hits me.
I gasp. “You did not just say that.”
He smirks, but then his own brain catches up with him and his face falls, panic etching into his features.
“Shit, no. I just meant that you tasted incredible. I wasn’t saying that your food…” His words trail off when I start laughing.
“Oh, you think you’re funny, do you?” he asks, his fingers digging into my ribs, making me giggle. “Think you’re funny while you’re dripping all over the countertop?”
Oh my god. Embarrassment floods through me, making my face burn red hot.
I can’t believe I just let him do that.
God. It was so freaking good, too.
I should have known it would be. And not just because he’s had a lot of practice, if the things that are written about him in the media are to be believed, but because he’s proving every day just how well he knows me. He listens, reads my reactions, and takes it all in.
“Stop, stop,” I cry, my stomach hurting from laughing so hard as I wiggle about inelegantly on the kitchen island without any panties on. “You need to go and get ready. We’re going to be late.”
“It’s okay. The guys will understand.”
I groan. They’re already going to be suspicious. I don’t need Cole doing or saying anything to confirm what they’re probably already thinking.
It’s only the truth, a little voice states.
“I’ll never live it down,” I argue.
“Trust me, Casey and Parker are no different,” Cole says as he takes a step back, finally allowing me to close my legs.
“Don’t I know it.”
Cole laughs. “Ah, you totally know more than I do. Linc and Kodie are pretty tight-lipped about what they get up to with their girls.”
“I wish I could say the same. I know way more about your teammates than I ever need to.”
“I dread to think,” he says, dragging his hair back, his eyes taking me in still sitting on the counter with my dress hitched up and my panties on the floor.
When he gets to my shoe-covered feet, his eyes linger. “You can wear those again,” he muses.
“Fan of heels, huh?”
“Previously, I wouldn’t have said so. But with you…it’s pretty safe to say I’m obsessed with everything you do.”
His eyes drop to my discarded panties, and he takes a step forward and snatches them up.
“I’ll be keeping these,” he states before pushing them into his pants pocket.
My chin drops.
“You can’t do that.”
“Why not? Don’t you think I deserve a prize?”
