“A little after six.” He pauses. “I should probably get moving. I need to hit the hotel gym and then grab breakfast before I meet the guys.”
“Right. Yeah.” I sit up, already missing this easy, sweet, simple back and forth. “So I’ll see you sometime this afternoon?”
“As fast as I can get there. I’ll let you know if there are any delays.”
We say goodbye, and when I finally end the call, I sit there for a moment, staring at my phone screen.
Something is building between us. It’s bigger than just sex or convenience or even two people helping each other out.
And instead of being terrified by that realization, I think—for the first time in years—I might actually be ready for it.
That feeling stays with me all day.
It hums beneath my skin while I make April breakfast and lingers in the back of my mind during the morning rush to get her to school. It grows stronger with every hour that passes, and by the time three o’clock rolls around, I can barely sit still.
I pick up April from school and bring her home, and my heart is already beating faster at the thought of seeing him again. I seriously can’t wait to be in the same room with him instead of connected by a phone line.
“Can I watch a movie?” April asks as we walk through the front door.
“Sure, sweetheart.” I help her out of her backpack as a crazy, irresponsible, way-too-tempting idea takes hold. “Why don’t you pick something in the media room? I’ll bring you some popcorn in a few minutes.”
Grant’s home theater is ridiculously high-tech and luxuriously comfortable at the same time, but we’ve only ever used it all together a couple of times. The living room, with its big screen TV and convenient location right off the kitchen and the main staircase, is where we usually gather in the evenings instead.
This will be the first time I’ve even hinted that April can have the full movie theater experience all by herself, so I knowshe’ll jump at the opportunity. Just like I’m jumping at the opportunity of having the next couple of hours alone with Grant once he gets home.
As I predicted, April lights up and takes off down the hallway, already calling out movie titles she’s considering. I toss a bag of popcorn in the microwave and empty it into a big bowl, then take it to her in the media room, where she’s already watching the opening credits of an animated movie that I know for a fact she’s already seen at least six times.
Everything is better on that big screen, though, no doubt about it. I’m even tempted to stay and watch for a few minutes with her, but I have other plans that I need to set into motion.
I give her a kiss on the head and tell her to call for me if she needs anything, then leave her to watch the movie and quietly shut the theater room door behind me.
My hands are shaking slightly as I climb the stairs to Grant’s room. This is crazy. Maybe too bold. But that feeling from this morning—that warmth, that certainty—is still there, pushing me forward.
I find one of his jerseys hanging in his closet. It looks brand new but still smells like him, and has his name in big letters across the back.
Perfect.
I pull off my shirt and jeans and slip it on, knowing from the last time I wore one of his jerseys that it will fall to mid-thigh, like the shortest of short skirts.
Also perfect.
Then I position myself near his bed and wait.
I only have to wait a few minutes before I hear the front door open, followed by the sound of his keys hitting the entry table.
“Heather? April? Anyone home?”
I have to bite my tongue not to answer. Luckily, he doesn’t waste time looking around downstairs. I hear his heavy footsteps on the stairs, getting closer by the second.
When he finally appears in the doorway, he drops his bag and goes completely still.
His eyes sweep over me, taking in the jersey, my bare legs, and the way I’m standing here waiting for him. Something dark and hungry flashes across his face.
“What are you doing?” His voice comes out rough and strained, like it’s taking all of his concentration to keep from moving.
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. “I was thinking maybe I should wear this to your next game.”
“You look fucking amazing.” His jaw tightens. “But it’ll take about five seconds for people to figure out there’s something going on between us.”
