Do I attempt to get up without waking her and make her breakfast? Maybe leave to grab us both coffee and a bagel? Or do I hold her until she wakes up and savor the rare, quiet moment we’re sharing?
There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s going to hate the realization that we slept like this last night, which makes the not moving option all the more tempting.
Still deep in her sleep, she subconsciously nestles tighter against me. Her mostly bare ass rubs against my dick and causes it to strain against the thin fabric of my boxer briefs.
Well, she’s really gonna hate that.
Fighting the urge to pull her in closer, I roll to my back to put some space between us. Because as much as I would love to lay here holding her like this all morning, I don’t know what she’s thinking. She’s fresh out of the thing with Raph, still hurting, and I have my own shit to deal with. My days in the league are numbered, and thanks to that reporter, rumors of my premature exit are rampant. Who wants a washed up hockey player? She didn’t want me at my best; no way in hell she’ll want me at my worst.
Carefully, I try to move my arm, but she starts to stir.
“Morning, Ev,” she says, a sleepy chuckle escaping with her words. She rolls further away, freeing my left arm, and rubs her fingers over her eyes.
“Morning.” Sitting up, I stretch my arms above my head, and to my surprise, my shoulder doesn’t feel stiff. I roll it a few times, and I feel nothing. It feels better than it has in months. It feels normal.
That ibuprofen is really working overtime.
My eyes scan her room, and I take in my surroundings for the first time in the morning light.
“I didn’t know you liked pink so much,” I say, shifting to face her. She doesn’t look at me though. No. Instead, I turn to find her staring at her hand. Specifically, the ring on her hand. Her left hand.
Blinking, I double-take. On her left ring finger sits a large diamond ring with a matching diamond band.
“You’re married?” I hear myself question as I jump out of bed.
“No,” she says. “You heard me break up with Raph last night.”
“Right,” I say, running my hands through my hair. “Sorry, I saw the rings and thought they were…” My voice trails off as I watch her scan her room. The look on her face shifts from confusion to horror. Her chest begins to lift with quick, panicked breaths. She nervously fidgets, gripping the fabric of the comforter tightly between her fingers.
“You okay?” I ask, unsure why her face has gone so pale.
“Where are we?” she asks, frantically.
“Your bedroom.”
“No, this isn’t my room.” Her voice cracks as she speaks, her eyes scanning the space again.
“What are you talking about? You sure you’re okay?”
“Everett, this isn’t my place,” she yells, her eyes falling back to the ring on her finger.
“Well, it’s not my place,” I argue. “And I’m pretty sure you unlocked the door with a key last night.”
“This isn’t funny,” she says, her eyes beginning to well with tears.
“Shit, um, it’s okay.” Climbing back onto the bed, I reach out, trying to feel her forehead with the back of my head, but she swats me away.
“Don’t touch me,” she bites out, scrambling out of bed.
“Look, I’m not sure what’s going on, but you’re worrying me, so maybe we should get dressed and go see a doctor.” I attempt to keep my voice calm and even.
“I don’t need a doctor. I know we’re not in my apartment. How do you not know that?”
“This is my first time here, and with the power out last night, and all of our, um, activities…” A smirk forms across my face. “I didn’t really pay attention to your decor.”
“Activities?” she scoffs. “God, you are just as insufferable as you used to be. You can say the word sex. We were both consenting adults.”
I let out a chuckle, and she flips around and stomps toward the large window. Drawing the blinds, a gasp falls from her mouth as she reveals a snowy landscape and no city buildings. She’s right. We aren’t in New York.
