“Your idea worked,” he says.
“We’ll see what happens tomorrow.” The farm team and pro team are going to practice together.
“I have a feeling that’ll work too.” He studies me. “What are you thinking about?”
That I want to kiss him. That I feel close to him. That I want more from him.
“That you look very well-rested today.” My mouth twitches as I focus on wiping the glass in my hand. Players glance over at us with knowing smiles. They can’t hear us, but it’s obvious from my playful smirk and Tate’s eyes on me like he could devour me, his body leaning toward me with his full attention.
I don’t care, I realize. I don’t care if they know there’s something going on with us. I should, because it’ll be humiliating when it’s over, but for now, I want to enjoy it.
“I am well-rested,” Tate says. “I slept great.”
“Glad to hear it,” I say as if I had nothing to do with it, despite the butterflies going off in my stomach. “Nothing beats a solid eight hours.”
His smile is warm and steady. “I hope I sleep well again tonight.”
My stomach dips. Is he?—?
“Yes,” he says, eyes on mine. “It’s an invitation to sleep in my bed tonight. And tomorrow. And for as many nights as you’d like.”
“What about Bea?” I say, heart in my throat.
“I’ll keep the door closed and you can leave before she gets up.”
I don’t know why I snag on that. I don’t know why I wish he’d say something likelet her know. She’s a child, and this is the dangerous part, letting her get her hopes up.
He watches me carefully, and when I nod, he exhales, shoulders inching down.
“Good,” he says, like that’s final. “See you later, Jordan. I’m looking forward to it.”
We’ve kissed. We’ve fooled around. The promise of falling asleep together regularly feels more intimate than any of that, though.
“Me, too,” I admit.
I watch him as he heads back to the guys, my heart squeezing with happiness.
Tate’s sprawled out in bed that night when I appear in his doorway, leaning against the headboard with a toned arm tucked behind his head, watching a game on TV.
He looks at me and his face breaks into a soft, relieved smile.
“Hi,” I whisper, closing the door behind me.
“Hi,” he says back, eyes tracking me as I make my way to him.
I climb onto the bed but he’s already reaching for me, pulling me on top of him, lifting up to kiss me like it’s been weeks since he saw me instead of hours. He kisses with urgency, like he missedme. I straddle him, knees on either side of his torso, while his hands thread into my hair and he makes noises of enjoyment into my mouth, like I’m delicious.
My bangs fall into my eyes and he pushes them aside. “Did I ever tell you how much I like you with bangs?” he asks.
I shake my head. “They’resomething, you said when I got my hair cut.”
He laughs a little. “Well, I do. I love them on you. I just couldn’t tell you at the time.”
He wraps his hand around the back of my neck, pulls me back for another kiss and my brain floats, happy and quiet.
“Tate?” I ask quietly in between kisses a minute later.
“Mmm?” His lips come to my jaw, my neck, and his voice sounds far away, like he’s busy and I’m distracting him.
