“Mel,” Rosie hisses in a mom-scold, but Melanie remains undeterred, her gaze on me.
I motion to myself and give her a teasing grin. “Bring your worst.”
Several hours later, Gemma and Matt invite everyone—the Briggs and Harris tribes, Alexei and Kennedy, and Deandra—to their home. As usual, Gemma’s armed with enough food to feed an army, including my absolute favorite dessert of hers—double chocolate brownies. With hockey players here and the out-of-this-world taste of Gemma’s baking, the food doesn’t last long.
Gemma lights the fireplace for purely aesthetic reasons—May is air-conditioning season in North Carolina. She queues up a playlist full of soft- and pop-rock songs from when I was a kid. We scatter throughout the first floor in ever-changing groups.
Jennings, Alexei, and I play a round of Wii Golf. Zach’s parents show me photos of him as a kid. In my favorite photo, Zach’s covered in cake and icing because he fell into the cake after he and Jeff argued about who’d have the first piece.
When the Harrises all end up in one room, we unsurprisingly break out a deck of cards, ready for any opportunity to compete with each other. Zach’s family wanders in halfway through the game, and Jeff gets sucked into it. I watch from the wall as our families blend, competing and laughing and talking, and my chest inflates with so much love, it hurts.
A cool hand slides into mine, but I school myself not to react. Knowing that hand and desperately wanting a moment alone with him. I slide to the doorway, then tiptoe backward until I’m out of the room. Zach tugs me toward him, straight into his arms, securing me against his body. His lips snag mine, kissingme with an intensity that makes me wish we could head back to his place for time alone.
“I missed you,” Zach murmurs against my lips between kisses. I can’t get enough of his mint taste, his hands gripping my ass, the satisfied moan when my tongue teases his.
“Yeah,” I whisper back. “I got the better end of the deal getting to watch you for the last couple of hours. Great game, Calder.”
“You’re impressed.” He’s no longer surprised when I express my admiration; instead, there’s a quiet satisfaction, an awe.
“Of course.” My hand threads through his, always confirming my affection for him, because I want him to believe it without a single doubt. “You’re fucking impressive. That goal wassmooth. Just like that little move”—I gesture around us, referencing the way he deftly pulled me to him—“you did to me.”
Zach’s face breaks into a shy grin. “You liked that, huh?”
I bite my bottom lip, dipping my head in a slow nod.
“Wanna get out of here?” His head jerks toward the stairs beside us.
My stomach flips over as I think about having him beneath me, my nerves churning like the folding of cream in a dessert. It’s the same anticipation that floods my nervous system every time he puts his hands on me or says something sweet, or when I open my eyes in the morning to see him peacefully snoozing beside me with a ghost of a smile on his lips.
Each time, it gives way to an inferno that consumes me, lust an accelerant to my deep love for this man. The one person who made me comfortable enough to let my guard down, to relinquish the tight control over my emotions. I don’t regret it, and regardless of what happens between us, I never will. Our love is worth the risk of heartbreak.
Zach and I pause on the steps at the sound of an amused voice ten feet below us.
“Where are you two off to?”
Kennedy stands beside Alexei in the foyer, arching an eyebrow. He smirks, knowingexactly where we’re headed… and why. He’s probably wishing he could do the same with his fiancée.
I pull in a deep breath, trying to regulate my body. “I need to show Zach something in my room.”
Alexei snorts. The sound covers the muffled laugh from Zach behind me.
“It’s very important,” I add, forcing my expression into neutrality. “Can you cover for us? Please?”
“Fifteen minutes,” Kennedy says. “Otherwise, I can guarantee you’ll have a bunch of guests in your bedroom.”
Alexei runs a finger down the length of Kennedy’s arm, and she visibly shivers. “Look who’s a softie.”
“Me?” she jokes, breathless. “I’m not the one—”
Her words devolve into a giggle that echoes around the foyer as Zach and I resume our climb, moving quickly and quietly up the steps, like our feet might catch fire if we linger too long. We’re on my bed in thirty seconds, on our sides, legs tangled, lips fused, hands exploring. I remember the first time I invited Zach into this bed, the tentative way he touched me, as if I might evaporate into a figment of his fantasies. It’s the opposite of how he’s touching me now, his hands moving hungrily down my body, dipping into my leggings.
“High-flyer,” Zach groans when his fingers push inside me. “You’re already ready for me.”
“I’ve had three hours of foreplay, watching you play hockey.”
He laughs, more agony than amusement. “I fucking love you.”
I push him flat onto his back then swing a leg over him, planting myself over his hard-on. “Show me.”
