Damn.
Whoever invented gray sweatpants was a genius.
Today was a great day apart from the anxiety I felt when we left. I like spending time with Grey. While my first impressions of him were not great, I can see now that’s not the man he really is. He’s still stubborn as hell, but I understand him now. He’s used to moving and being active and now he’s learning his limits. It’s just taking him a bit more time to figure those out.
I know he’s hurting, but he agreed to rest all night tonight, after we frost the cake, and tomorrow. When we got back, Grey cleaned the fish and cooked it while I cooked sides to go with it. It was really good, and cooking beside Grey was nice.
That’s what this all feels like—nice and calm.
He turns to me, holding both cans, his eyes darting between them. “Chocolate or vanilla? Birthday boy’s choice.”
“When’s your birthday?” I smile at the flirty tilt to his lips. He looks at me like that a lot lately. Or maybe that’s just how he looks at everyone. The sadness in his stormy eyes has lifted some in the last month. I hope that means he’s coming to terms with everything.
“It’s in January.” He smiles. “Now.” He holds the cans out to me.
“We could do both.” I shrug.
“So damn smart.” Grey opens the cans, peeling back the foil tops, and hands me a butter knife. I scoop out frosting and smear it over the cake. We’re shoulder to shoulder, the heat from him soaking into me. I’m wearing one of the Otters shirts he gave me, and sweatpants. It’s nearly eight now and I don’t want today to end. Grey plans on watching a game tonight, and I think I’ll watch it with him.
“I had a nice day,” I say quietly.
His fingers still, then begin to coat his side with vanilla frosting. “Yeah?” I nod, finishing up my side, then I lick thedull edge of the butter knife. Fuck that’s good. Steven never allowed me to eat junk food. He could talk about processed sugar and shit like that all day. This is heaven.
I get a feeling and look up at Grey to find him watching me. “What?”
“Nothing.” He smirks. I probably look gross. Why did I lick the butter knife? “You just...” A playful smile hits his full lips, and he slowly reaches out. I jerk slightly and hate myself, and he freezes, watching my eyes. “You just um...” He reaches his thumb out, wiping frosting off the corner of my mouth, and if I could die of humiliation right now, I would.
Mortification melts into liquid heat as I watch him suck his thumb into his mouth, humming along with it.Oh damn. The soft rumble goes right to my dick. “Sweet.” My face heats.
I try to think about something else and not the way his words are hitting a very bad place right now.
“So um, this house is beautiful. The trees around here are so pretty. It’s so pretty to look out and see the forest.” And I love the nights we spend outside when it’s not raining. Nights under the stars with this big man is my favorite way to end every day now.
I shouldn’t feel like this, but how can I help it? Grey is everything I’ve never experienced. Yeah, he was scary at first, but that wasn’t him. That was a broken man mourning the loss of something he loved so much. I know how hard it is to keep him still, so I can imagine how active he’s used to being.
He finishes up his side. “I love it out here. I didn’t need a fancy mansion or penthouse. I just wanted a quiet little home in the middle of nowhere. It’s hidden.” I go to reply but he continues. “The uh, second year on the Otters, I started making a name for myself, and I had my address leaked. The media fallout and cease and desists... It was a crazy time. Ihad to hire extra security. Then one night I had my house broken into. He snuck past security and broke in.”
“Oh my god.” That’s insane.
“I have no idea how he evaded it all. He was some guy in his sixties—kept saying what a huge fan he was—and I was this twenty-two-year-old newbie. The fuck did I know about anything? My sister and mom were asleep, so I called the cops. It freaked me the hell out. It’s why I have cameras around the outside now. I have two in here too, just so you know. One in the living room and one in my office with all my stuff.” He shakes his head, laughing, with zero humor. “It’s ridiculous. Look at my size and what I do for a living. I was scared out of my mind.”
I touch his forearm, pulling his attention to me. “Your size has nothing to do with it. That sounds terrifying. And with your family here... I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
He smiles gratefully then grabs the cake and walks to the table. “I had no clue at the time how he even got in... I had a boyfriend when I got drafted. He was so happy for me, but that happiness evaporated pretty quickly. We were always gone, and the only way you’ll see a hockey player is if you live with a hockey player, but I wasn’t ready for that. We’d only been together for about two years, and I had my mom and my sister here. I didn’t trust another guy with them, even one I was seeing. He kept pushing me to let him move in. We got into a nasty fight about it. He was mad and sold my information to someone.”
I can’t believe someone would do that. It makes sense now, Grey’s wariness when I first came here. People have hurt him. People he trusted. Grey values privacy above all else, and someone violated that trust. I can’t even imagine what that feels like. Then, with the nurses who took photos of him, and the one who stole... No wonder he was angry seeing me in his room.
My body acts on instinct. I don’t know why the hell I do it, but the impulse is too strong to ignore. I hug him. He stiffens for a confused minute then slowly wraps his arms around me. It takes him a moment to ease into it, like he’s not used to being hugged. “I’m sorry that happened to you.” I pull back to let him go, but his arms hold me still. I’m unable to get away. I just look at him, his blue-green eyes brewing up a different type of storm.
He licks his lips, and there it is again, the magnetic way his heat pulls me in. If I had to describe Grey in one word, it would be “warmth.” Warm arms. Warm heart. Warm demeanor, when he gets his way at least. He swallows, and I watch the way his Adam’s apple moves with the motion. He licks his bottom lip. My eyes dip to the motion, and I think he’s about to lean in, when his arms let me go. “Grab two forks, please.”
I nod, breaking my mind out of whatever that was. “Plates?”
He shakes his head. “Plates are overrated. They set limits. Fuck limits.” Delight spreads across his face when I hand him a fork. I sit down and wait for him to make the first move and he dives in. I follow, taking a piece of the chocolate section he frosted.
Cake has never tasted this good.
“Mmm, oh my god.” I freeze with another bite near my lips. “Sorry, I’m eating too fast, I?—”
