Frasier lifted a shoulder. “He dated a line cook at the Huxley Grand LA for a while.”
“Boone.” I stared at him. “Boone Parksdatedsomeone?” He was one of the biggest players on the team, and I wasn’t referring to his role on the ice.
Frasier chuckled, his entire face lighting up. I hadn’t seen him this relaxed since…well, it had been years, really. “Shocking, I know.”
I shook my head, still in disbelief. I couldn’t picture it. “Boone,” I mouthed.
“Mm.” Frasier licked his lips. He held up a croissant. “You’ve gotta try thispain au chocolat.”
I leaned forward, taking a bite. My eyes closed as the flaky, buttery shell fell apart in my mouth, oozing with rich, creamy chocolate. “Oh my god,” I said, covering my still-full mouth.I laughed then dabbed my lips with the corner of my napkin. “That issogood.”
“More?” he asked, his eyes homed in on mine.
It felt as if he were asking about more than just the food, and I nodded. Because I wanted more of this. More lazy mornings spent feeding each other. More late nights spent in each other’s arms. More dancing. More laughter. More fun. More everything with Frasier.
He held the croissant to my lips, our eyes locked. I took another bite. When some chocolate filling escaped, he used his finger to wipe it up. He held it to my mouth, and I parted my lips. But then he turned his finger to his mouth and sucked it between his lips, cleaning it.
“Hey! That was mine.” But I couldn’t be too outraged. I was honestly too distracted and more than a little turned on, despite how many times we’d had sex in the past forty-eight hours.
I narrowed my eyes at him then lunged for thepain au chocolat. He was faster than me—no surprise there. The man’s reflexes both on and off the ice were unreal.
He caged me to him with one arm, while taking the most obnoxious bite. Moaning around it loudly. I narrowed my eyes at him.
“You’re a tease,” I said, though my tone lacked bite. “Getting me addicted, only to take it away. Is that the kind of thing I can expect when we get back to LA? You got me addicted to sex, and then you’re going to cut me off?” I was joking, sort of. But I wished I could take back those words. Because while I’d meant to broach the topic of our relationship with Frasier, I’d hoped to use a little more finesse. And now I was kicking myself for taking a sledgehammer to our last morning in paradise together.
“I, um—” I squeezed my eyes shut briefly, trying to backpedal. “Sorry. I don’t…” I sighed, and he gave my thigh a reassuring squeeze. “That came out all wrong.”
“I’m glad you brought it up,” he said, and I couldn’t get a read on him. Probably because I was trying not to completely freak the fuck out. “Because we both know that things will be…different when we get back to LA. With the preseason ramping up, and…”
“Frasier.” I glanced up at him. “I get it. Trust me. You don’t have to explain. I know how busy you’re going to be. I have no expectations about what this is.” I gestured between us, my skin heating and my heart sinking.
This conversation wasn’t going at all how I’d hoped or planned. I was bumbling through, saying the opposite of what I actually meant.
“Bryn.” His voice was a command, compelling me to look at him. “I don’t do casual,” he rasped, and his confession sent a flutter through my belly. Or maybe it was the intense way he was looking at me. Studying me.
“And I know this started as a fake-dating situation, but I meant what I said the other day,” Frasier continued. “If it were up to me, we’d wake up together every day and start our mornings talking, touching, tangled up in each other.”
“I want that too,” I admitted.
“So we’re agreed?” he asked. “No more pretend relationship?”
I nodded. “No more pretending.”
He pulled me into his lap, brushing my hair away from my face. His blue eyes swirled with affection, sucking me into their depths. I cupped his cheek, and when he kissed me, it was with both tenderness and passion.
I was elated. I was scared. I was a bundle of emotions. But Frasier made me feel safe, loved, cherished. And I clung to that feeling, growing light-headed as he slid one hand down to my neck, moving the other to my nape. And even though it wasn’t our first kiss, it felt like a new beginning. A promise.
When we reluctantly pulled apart, we were still touching. My heart was racing, but my mind was quiet. And my heart felt whole.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“What’s all this?” Georgia asked, stepping daintily over the bags of dirt that I’d hauled to the backyard but had yet to move from the pathway.
Today had been my first day off since returning from Anguilla a week ago, and I’d spent it in the garden.
“Sorry. I ran out of steam.” I was resting on top of a stack of them, still trying to get myself up and moving.
Bacon and Biscuit were lounging in the yard, acting as if they’d done all the hard work. They’d certainly run around a lot, chasing me every time I dragged in something new. Sniffing and investigating.
