I have to force myself to walk away from her. To make my way to the door. I pause at the threshold and look back at her one more time. She’s breathing softly, fast asleep.
Should I stay? Give into this strange urge?
No… no, I shouldn’t. It’s crossing too many lines. I’ve given her the same after care as I would any of my partners. Making sure she’s relaxed and has no lingering pain or discomfort from the experience. I’m not abandoning her. I’m doing exactly what I’d do with any other woman.
Still, that small desire to stay lingers. This feels different than an encounter I’d have at the club, though it really shouldn’t.
It was a mutual exchange. A release of frustrations and fulfilling desires. That’s all.
There’s no need to make things more complicated.
Reluctantly, I step out of the room and close the door behind me, leaving Sutton alone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN: UNWELCOME SURPRISE
SUTTON
After what wasthe most incredible sexual experience of my life, Jayce and I fall into a sort of comfortable rhythm I don’t think either of us anticipated. Every morning, the sound of the blender wakes me up before my alarm. I get up, shower, dress, and head out to the kitchen with my laptop. Every morning, there’s a smoothie waiting on the island right next to my sketchbook. He never says anything about it. Never makes a fuss and asks for anything in return. He just sets the smoothie there and goes about the rest of his own routine.
He does little things like that. Makes me smoothies. Heats up meals for me. Makes sure my favorite snacks are stocked in the cupboards. I’m not sure how he figured out my weakness for Twinkies, but there’s always a box waiting for me in the cupboard next to the fridge. He plugs my laptop in for me if I forget to do it so it can charge overnight. One day, I lost my earbuds, and the next morning they were on the kitchen island with a little note next to them.
Found these stuffed in the couch cushions. Made sure they were charged.
The smallest gestures, but they’re so thoughtful they make my heart race a little.
He’ll go off to practice, and I’ll set up my work space on the kitchen table. Laptop, notes, sketches, renderings — I completely take over the space and make it my own until he comes home. He’s usually still sweaty from practice. I don’t know why he doesn’t shower at the stadium. Part of me wonders if he’s just that eager to get home to see me, but I tell myself that can’t be the reason. It’s probably something much simpler, like his own shower is just so much nicer than the ones in the team’s locker room.
Still, he always walks by me on his way to his room with a grin. And he always drops a kiss on top of my head as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Hello, beautiful fake fiancee,” he’ll say.
“Hello, my charming just-pretend-love,” I’ll reply.
I won’t admit that I love the show of affection, but I perk up every time I hear the front door open, knowing my hello kiss is coming. I pretend to stay focused on whatever I’m doing, but my pulse picks up the closer his footsteps get. The anticipation of his hand resting on my shoulder leaves me breathless or when he brushes his fingers along my jaw. Sometimes he lingers a bit longer than necessary, his lips against my hair, his warm breath fanning over the top of my head. I imagine him cupping my face and turning me so he can kiss my mouth, his tongue slipping into tangle with mine as his other hand moves down my torso slowly…inch by delicious inch…
He never takes it further, though. Never more than a kiss on the head. But my fantasies get more vivid with each day.
Jayce also continues to surprise me with how perceptive he is. During one evening together, as he’s watching a hockey game with the volume low, I’m sitting on the large sofa next to him, modeling out ideas on my computer. We’re both in sweatpants,and while I’m in an oversized hoodie, he’s wearing a white t-shirt that hugs every muscle in his torso. I have to fight the temptation just to stare at him while drool dribbles out of my mouth. Instead, I try to focus on my work, though I can occasionally feel his eyes on me, steady and grounding.
My phone suddenly buzzes on the coffee table, startling me.
Jayce glances over at me. “Who’s that?”
I lean forward and grab the phone.
The League of Extraordinary Bitchesis calling.
“Oh God,” I chuckle.
“What?” Jayce asks.
“It’s the girls.”
He snorts under his breath. “Good luck with that.”
I swipe to answer, and Grace’s face fills the screen first.
“Sutton!” she squeals.
