I’ve never given anyone else a chance.
But Easton…I think I want to give him a chance.
Rather than uncertainty about his intentions, I’m having fun. This is similar to the camaraderie I had with Ryan and his friends growing up, before I started dating his teammate. Part of me missed this feeling when I closed my heart off from this side of myself.
Easton stares me down, as captivated as he was by me dancing on the bar when he came to my rescue.
It spurs me on with confidence, flooding me with a sense of deviousness. I’m down to play this game, and I’ll do it better than them.
“Oh yeah? Sounds serious. So I should take it off?” My lips curve slowly as I lift the hem with each taunting question to reveal bare skin. “Right here? Right now?”
Easton’s buddies cheer. His eyes snap up from the expanse of skin I’m showing off.
He shoots an annoyed look at his teammates. “Hang on?—”
“I guess unless you want me partying with you in my bra, one of you better go get me something to put on.”
Before I lift the jersey to reveal it, Easton moves. Within two strides, he’s in front of me, using his body to block me from his teammates’ view. I swallow as he pulls me in close, fisting the material at my back. The guys continue to joke about defeating the enemy, but I’m trapped in his intense blue gaze.
He shifts closer, lips brushing my temple. “I don’t want to see you wear another guy’s stuff, Maya. Not even my teammates’ clothes. Come with me.”
My stomach dips at his voice in my ear and his scent surrounding me. I bite my lip around a smile.
“Fine, hotshot. You can have it your way.Thistime.”
He smirks. “Good girl.”
Then he bends to haul me over his shoulder, carrying me up the steps. A laugh escapes me. His boys hype us up and it stirs a comfortable, warm glow in my chest. I cling to him so I don’t overbalance us.
“Is this how you get all the girls to your room?”
His big hand squeezes the back of my thigh, holding me steady. “No. Just you.”
“So this is our thing?”
Another squeeze of my thigh. “It could be if you were my girl. But you’re not mine.”
“Yet,” I tease when we reach the top of the staircase.
“Yet,” he echoes, the smile evident in his voice as his thumb rubs absent circles that send tingles up my thigh.
Butterflies fill my stomach when we enter his room. It’s surprisingly cozy with a decent sized bed, and it’s cleaner than I pictured after growing up with a hockey player for a brother.
When he sets me on my feet with care not to drop me, I’m struck with curiosity because it’s hardly the room I’d expect of a notorious playboy that takes a different girl to bed every night.
“No roommate? That’s a nice perk.”
He chuckles, closing the door. “Team captain gets the big room with my own bathroom. Last year I was rooming with Cameron down the hall.”
I peer around at the Bruins posters, hockey gear taking over the corner by the tall windows, and his disorganized desk with half-scribbled scrimmage notes.
Photos of him with his teammates and family dot the walls. The one where he’s wearing the same green Heston University t-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest catches my eye. He’s holding a boy several years younger than him on his shoulders with a woman that has to be his mom. It makes me smile softly.
I hold my arms out in the middle of the room. “You’ve finally got me where you’ve been trying to get me for like half the semester.”
“Four weeks, if we want to be exact.”
I blink, mentally counting how long it’s been since the Heston vs Elmwood game in October. I’m surprised he’s kept track.
