He doesn’t know I used to sit in my tiny bedroom back home with my headset on, talking to a sweet farm boy I never thought I’d meet in person.
He has no clue the first time we “met” wasn’t at Broken Saddle.
And when he handed me the controller tonight and told me to play, it would’ve been so easy for me to tell him the truth.
It would’ve been the right time. I almost did.
But the moment’s passed, and I don’t know how to bring it up now. After the way he questioned me at the bar earlier, I’m worried he’ll think I kept it from him for a different reason.
He steps closer behind me, his arms circling my waist under the water.
“You’re quiet,” he says, pressing his lips against my neck.
“Just tired.”
He hums like he believes me.
We finish without saying anything more. He dries me off before he wraps me in a towel. It feels domestic in a way I’m not used to.
When we step into his room, he tosses me one of his shirts and a pair of boxer shorts, never mind the fact I packed pajamas of my own.
“They’ll fit.” He smiles.
I hold them up and glance between them and him. He has nearly a foot on me, and his broad frame fills out his shirt in a way that looks like it was made specifically for him.
I get dressed in front of him. The shirt hangs past my thighs, and the boxers sit low on my hips. He watches me, not hiding his appreciation for seeing me in his clothes.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
I smile and walk over to him. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, with a towel wrapped low on his waist. His hair is still damp, a little disheveled.
I don’t ask for permission as I climb on his lap. My knees settle on either side of his thighs. His hands slide automatically to my waist.
“Everything okay?” he asks quietly.
I nod, resting my forehead against his.
He presses a soft kiss against my lips. When I pull away, I trace my fingers along the line of his jaw, studying him like I’m trying to memorize every inch.
“I beat all your friends,” I say softly.
He smiles faintly. “You did. I never thought something like that would be so sexy.”
I exhale a chuckle. “You didn’t know I could play that well.”
“I’m learning more about you every day.”
I swallow. And I’m still deciding how to tell him everything that’s on the tip of my tongue.
I stay there on his lap, my arm wrapped around his shoulders, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
He’s watching me in that quiet way he does when he thinks I’m about to say something important.
“What?” he asks softly.
I hesitate, then track my thumb along his collarbone like I need something to focus on.
