And just like that, she’s heading back to Gina and Owen, leaving the question hanging in the air.
The stringof soft-yellow globe lights lining the front porch of our bungalow is the only illumination when we climb out of the rideshare in front of the house.
“Night, lovers!” Gina calls, waving and leaning heavily on Owen’s arm as they leave us to walk the half block to their new home. “Carla said she’d have the puppy over this weekend. Let me know if you need any help.”
“Night, Gigi!” Dove calls after her, following me up the steps as I enter the code on the lock.
I feel around for the light switch when we step inside the door, and Dove leans heavily against me.
Everything about this night has been one long edging session, thinking about what she said, watching her and Gina do another shot of tequila, watching them dance and sing along with the music in the bar. Watching her hips twist, her full breasts bounce… I do my best to tear my eyes away. I’m not that guy… Only, shit. I’ve always wanted to be the only guy for Dove.
She took off my jersey because it was too hot in the bar,so now she’s wearing black leggings and a thin white turtleneck that leaves little to the imagination.
“I can’t wait to meet Kelani!” Her cheek is against my shoulder, and I flip the switch, turning on the large lamps on end tables beside the couch. “I miss having a dog to greet me when I get home, don’t you?”
I turn to brace her shoulders, helping her stand. She wobbles a bit before smiling up at me.
“You’re drunk.” It’s as much of a tease as a disappointed observation.
“I am not!” Her voice goes high in that way that confirms she totally is.
“Hang on—drink this before you go to bed.” I take her to the kitchen, her feet scuffing as she walks.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, so I take it out and put it on the counter. My cousin Knox’s name and a picture of him holding a football and making a face is on the screen.
Why is he texting me at… well, I guess it’s 6 am where he is.
“Lemon lime or orange?” Her brow furrows, and I hold up the box of electrolyte packets. “It’ll help with the hangover.”
“I’m not hungover.” She lifts her chin and points up at me.
“Not yet.” I catch her shoulders again, holding her straight.
That shirt is tight around her body, and little points pierce the fabric. I lift my chin, groaning internally. I would’ve tested the waters with her tonight, but not when she’s like this.
“Come here, let me tell you something.” She waves me closer, and I lean down. “I probably shouldn’t have done that second shot.”
Her lips brush against the shell of my ear, and her fingers sink into the side of my hair. A charge sweeps through my entire body, and I swallow the thickness in my throat.
“Probably not,” I whisper back.
She takes a heavy step back, looking up at me. “You are a very good hockey player.”
“That’s what I hear.” I take down a glass to mix up the lemon-lime flavor.
“And you don’t stink.”
“Thanks.” I stir it with water in the glass then hand it to her. “Drink this.”
She takes the glass, shaking her head. “That’s not what I meant. I meant, people always say hockey players stink. You always smell really good.”
A grin pulls the side of my mouth. “We have people who deep-clean our gear after every game. They clean the uniforms, too.” I move to the other cabinet and take down the bottle of ibuprofen and put two pills in her hand. “Take these.”
Standing in front of me, she looks at the glass in one hand and the pills in the other. “You take very good care of me, too. Thank you.”
Exhaling an amused breath, I lean my back against the counter, resting my hands firmly at my sides. “It’s my pleasure.”
“It is?” Her head tilts to the side, and a sweet smile curls her lips.
