“Hey, am I interrupting?”
“Nope,” Blakely cheerily replies. “We were just talking about yourrousingmorning.”
Oh my God!
Eli’s eyes flash to mine, and I’m sure my expression resembles a deer in headlights as I look at my friend.
“Heard you got a good feel in.”
“Blakely,” I hiss at her. “Shut the hell up.”
She just laughs as I watch Eli’s face redden.
I don’t believe I’ve ever seen the man blush . . . ever, but there he is, standing in the doorway of my office, red cheeks and all. It is a sight to behold.
He clears his throat and says, “Yeah, kind of got lost in my sleep.”
“Find what you were looking for in Penny’s shirt?”
“I’m going to murder you,” I whisper to her before looking up at Eli. “Ignore her. She forgot what social decorum is.”
“My boys would probably do the same,” he says while scratching the side of his cheek. “And it’s true, I did find something in her shirt, a hard nipple.”
And that’s the Eli I know, right there, the one who can turn embarrassment into a joke.
“Ooo, a hard nipple.” Blakely pops the collar of her shirt out and looks down it. “Haven’t seen one of those in a while. Good for you on finding one.”
“Thank you.” Eli chuckles and then turns back to me. “Uh, dinner with your parents is tonight, right?”
“Only if you’re up to it. Seriously, you don’t—”
“I want to.” He smiles. “Just wanted to see if they had any allergies. I was going to make some lasagna. It’s the only thing I really know how to make.”
“Oh, you don’t have to make anything. I don’t want to put you out.”
“Would it be okay if I made something?” The vulnerability in his voice is so heavy, it nearly weighs me down right then and there. “I like your parents, Penny. And besides, I want to show them that I’m more than just a talented hockey player with a credit card.”
Wow, okay . . . not sure my heart can handle such a statement.
I swallow deeply and say, “Of course you can make something if that’s what you really want. And my parents don’t have any allergies other than my dad can’t have cashews, but I doubt you’ll put any cashews in the lasagna.”
“Not so much.” He stuffs his hands in his jogger pockets. “Okay, I’m going to run to the grocery store then. Do you need anything?”
“Um, I think I’m good. I can pick up a dessert on the way home when I’m finished here.”
“Don’t worry about that. I got it covered.” He smirks at me. “Picking up some ice cream.” And then he winks, and I swear to God, I can feel my heartbeat between my legs. “Text or call if you need anything.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Catch you later, Penny.” And then he leaves, shutting the door behind him.
Blakely, mouth ajar with humor in her eyes, turns toward me and says, “Oh, he wants you.”
“Oh my God, can you stop with that? He doesn’t.”
“He does, and I say go for it.”
“You have completely lost it. There is no way. He’s just a nice guy.”
