“This smile.”
“What about it?”
Her grin widened like she was about to drop some great revelation. “I call it ...”
“Call it what?” I smoothed my palm up her back, fingers gliding into her hair as she lay naked on top of me.
“Your secret smile.”
I huffed a laugh, my lips twitching.
“Aaaand it’s gone.”
“I have a secret smile, and now it’s gone?” With my hand still tangled in her hair, I pulled her down for a kiss.
She moaned into my mouth before pulling back. “Yeah, it’s this little, barely-there smile,” she murmured. “It’s more in your eyes than on your lips. Kind of like the Mona Lisa—but more beautiful. And way easier to read. At least for me.”
I hadn’t even been aware I did that. Maybe it was her effect on me, my emotions for her slipping through before Icould even register them. Maybe it had been there from the start.
“I have a lot of secret things for you,” I said.
Her pupils flared. “I know.”
But then she sighed and rolled off me, stretching. “Unfortunately, I have to get to work. I’m opening today.”
Good thing we’d already had one round.
She’d slipped into my bed last night, but I’d woken up this morning to something even better—her sliding under the covers and taking my morning erection into her own hands. Or rather, her mouth. She sucked and licked me until I couldn’t take it anymore—I pulled her up, flipped her over, and sunk into her from behind. She’d been slick wet and moaning so loud when she came that I could only hope Walter hadn’t plugged his hearing aid in yet.
Half an hour later, she was on her way to work, and I was sitting in the kitchen, searching Walter’s face for hints.
Did he know? Had he figured out that Rio and I were sneaking into bed together every night? That I was completely gone for her? Or was he still happily oblivious?
To appease him—just in case—I challenged him to a round of Scrabble.
He agreed and we set it out in the backyard.
When the scores were clear, he jumped up to do some old-man victory shimmy, but then he froze, mid-dance, wincing.
“Damn,” he muttered.
I rushed to help him back down. “Maybe don’tgloat so much.”
“Maybe take me to that doctor of yours,” he shot back, rubbing his back.
“He’ll send you right to the Olympics.”
Walter scoffed. “Where did he send you? You seem much better.”
I hesitated, surprised at how calmly and openly he spoke about it.
“He says I might be good to play soon. But that’s something the team’s doctor has the final say on.”
“And when are you meeting him?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“He’s only seeing healthy people?”
