Her head drops and the rest of it comes spilling out.
“At book club, Nancy Killian said the cowboy in the book reminded her of the time she slept with a hockey player who liked control.” She winces hard. “And Elena told me afterward that she’s a puck bunny. And that the hockey player she was talking about was probably you.”
I drag a hand down my face. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Before Elena told me, it didn’t even click that Nancy was talking about you because you’re not like that with me,” shesays. “You’re gentle. And after Elena told me, Nancy wouldn’t stop going on about it. I don’t know, Chase. I got jealous. And overwhelmed. I threw my book at her head.”
A laugh catches in my throat. “You assaulted Nancy Killian with a paperback?”
“It was a hardcover,” she mutters, embarrassed. “And now I’m banned for two months.”
I can’t help but grin. “My girlfriend is a delinquent. That’s kinda hot.”
She smacks my upper body lightly. “Shut up, Pretty Boy.”
I take her hand. “Come on, let’s get back before everyone wonders why we’ve disappeared. You’ve already caused enough chaos for one night.”
She groans but lets me lead her out. The aroma of roasted vegetables and garlic hits us as we step out into the kitchen. Roman is laughing as we approach the table. As we sit, smirks tug at the corners of everyone’s mouths, though no one says a word at first.
“So, Erin…” Brax says, eliminating the silence, his tone teasing. “Do you want to tell me why the station called and said Nancy Killian demanded you be arrested for assault?”
Beer sprays out of my mouth while the others, clearly already in the know, struggle to hide their grins.
“Why would someone want to arrest Erin for salt?” Roman asks innocently.
Erin’s cheeks flame, and she sinks into her seat, covering her face with her hands.
“Don’t arrest my friend, Daddy,” Roman says gruffly and then lobs the end of a garlic piece at Brax’s face.
The entire table cracks up with laughter.
Roman rushes to Erin’s side and hugs her, holding on as if his dad might actually arrest her. He makes Brax pinky promise he won’t before letting go.
After an hour of more playful chaos, everyone says their goodbyes and heads out the door.
Erin leans into me for a moment before heading upstairs. “I’m gonna take a bath,” she says and disappears.
I grin to myself, thinking about how a tense and awkward situation turned into laughter and how these moments are exactly what we need given everything that’s going on in the background.
I take a deep breath, dinner still lingering in the air, and start cleaning up the few stray dishes on the table.
When the kitchen is clean, I head upstairs to the bedroom. Dim lighting seeps from under the door and I step inside, stopping dead in my tracks when I find Erin sitting on the bed. Her bronzed legs are on display in front of her, and her frame is covered in just my jersey.
My eyes trail up her body as I shove my jacket to the floor and walk over to the bed. I press my knee into the mattress and tilt her chin up, kissing her hard. She places her dainty hand on my wrist, kissing me back with everything she has.
“You’re perfect,” I say, letting my eyes eat her up. Never have I ever let a girl wear my jersey in the bedroom. Just seeing her in it has me instantly hard.
“I wanna ask you something,” she says.
“Yeah?”
“Are you… are you soft?” she blurts out.
I choke on nothing but my own spit, stunned by the surprise of her words.
Fucking hell. I love this woman.
She might actually be the death of me.
