I turn my face to his, our eyes locking. God, he is so beautiful. I’ve never seen anyone with eyes like his. It’s more than just their color. It’s how intuitive and expressive they seem. It’s why I thought he was an accountant. He looks like he sees so much more—all the time—than what’s on the surface.
I will never ever be able to get enough of this man.The thought is slightly terrifying as it runs through my head.
Sebastian starts to kiss me, but then his stomach gurgles loudly. I laugh. He joins me, self-consciously.
“I’m starving,” he confesses and grins. “Wanna go to breakfast with me?”
I trace the outline of the scar in his eyebrow with my fingertip. Hockey players and their scars. They have them, they cause them. Those beautiful, intuitive eyes must see what I’m thinking because he reaches up and pulls my hand from his face and presses his lips to it. “Breakfast,ma belle. Just one meal. If you’re so confident you’re right about me—about all hockey players—then what are you scared of?”
“I’m not scared,” I reply firmly, but my racing heart says otherwise.
“You’re scared that the more time you spend with me, the more you’ll realize I’m not the monster you think I am.” He leans into the crook of my neck, his lips ghosting my skin. “Come on, baby, I dare you. Brunch with me.”
“Dare?” I question, and he gives me the sexiest, cockiest grin. “Fine. But I’m paying—for both of us. I’m not looking for a free ride.”
“I just gave you a ride.” Seb wiggles his eyebrows. “Should I start charging for those?”
“Shut up.” I can’t help but laugh. “Let’s just go to brunch.”
Frenchie lights up like a kid on Christmas morning and jumps out of bed, naked and once again not afraid to show it. He pulls me out of bed too.
“First we shower,” he insists and starts dragging me toward his bathroom.
“Together?” I question.
“Of course,” he says smoothly. “That back of yours has to be scrubbed.”
I feel a little flutter in my belly as I look at him. It’s fear. Because Audrey is one hundred percent right—he is good for me and I like him. A lot. And it scares me but I think he might be worth the risk.
Chapter 28
Sebastian
Twenty minutes later, I’m freshly showered in a T-shirt and jeans drinking orange juice out of the container as I lean against the fridge door. I’m so incredibly happy. I really am. I’m not worried about my wrist issues anymore, even though it still aches almost constantly. I’m not stressed about the start of playoffs. Because once again, I’m with Shay. And when she’s around I feel like everything else will be okay. She makesmeokay.
I want to ask her out—on a real date. Something that shows her I’m not a typical hockey player and I’m serious about her and this relationship and she can trust me—trustthis. But maybe I should wait until after the playoffs to tell her. I mean, playoff hockey is intense. There are curfews and stricter diets and training and practices and injury. There are always aches and pains and I’m always bitchy. Depending on how far we go, I’ll be all gimpy and pathetic and probably cranky because I like to avoid taking pain meds. Not to mention the travel, which is every couple of days. No long home stands during playoffs. This is all part of the stuff that she hates about hockey. Is it smart to try and pull her into a commitment right now?
Shayne wanders into the living room trying to smooth the wrinkles out of her top with both hands. I can’t help but laugh. “Wow. It totally looks like you’ve just been fucked.”
She gives me a saucy glare. “Next time I’ll make sure to fold them before getting on all fours for you.”
I grin at the memory.
“You have a gorgeous grin, you know that?” she says and I flush. “It’s disarmingly charming and beyond sexy.”
“That’s how I feel about your smile,” I reply because it’s the truth. “And everything else about you too.”
She smiles shyly at me.God, I think I’m falling in love with her.How the fuck is that happening when I can’t even grow a pair and ask her out? I put the now empty orange juice container on the counter and walk over to where she’s leaning on the door frame to the kitchen.
“I used your toothbrush.” She smiles evilly. “I owed you.”
“Yes, you did.” I laugh and lean forward and grab her hand, pulling her right into a kiss. She tastes of toothpaste, and it makes me smile again.
“Shay, listen,” I swallow and try to gather my courage. “I want to ask you something—”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Who the fuck is that? Shay looks up at me confused. They knock again.
