“I know,” he says, his arms still wrapped around me. He presses a kiss to my shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone in… Christ, almost a year.”
I twist to look at him over my shoulder, a teasing smile on my lips. “A year? You? Captain of the New York Renegades? I find that hard to believe.”
He swats my hip. “I’ve been focusing on hockey. But yeah. I’m clean. I get tested regularly.”
His honesty makes me serious. “I’m clean too. And I’m on birth control. It’s been almost two years for me.”
Now it’s his turn to look surprised. He raises an eyebrow. “Two years? A woman who looks like you?”
I laugh. “Focusing on my business. Now we’re even.”
Pushing me up to my feet, Cole takes my hand and leads the way to his massive shower. He proceeds to soap me down as thehot water cascades over us. I’m getting used to taking a shower with Cole.
“So,” I say, leaning back against his chest as his soapy hands slide around to my stomach. “The season opener is on Thursday. Are you nervous?”
“I’m always nervous before any game. You spend all preseason preparing, but you never really know how it will go until you’re out there for real.”
I turn in his arms to face him. Water streams down his face, and I wipe it from his eyes. “It will be awesome. You’ve worked hard for it. And the Renegades have a new fan.”
He wags a finger at me. “Don’t let Brett hear you say that.”
I laugh. “My lips are sealed.”
We talk about the Renegades' chances for making the playoffs this year as we finish showering. When we’re done, we wrap each other in towels and head back to Cole’s room.
Standing in his room, I'm suddenly uncertain. We've talked about taking it slow, about seeing where this goes. But what does that mean for tonight? My feet seem rooted to his floor, torn between the safety of my own room and the terrifying intimacy of staying in his.
15
Harper
I wake up wrapped in Cole's arms, sunlight streaming through his bedroom windows. For a moment, I just lie there, memorizing this feeling. The solid warmth of his chest and the way his arm curves protectively around my waist.
In sleep, his face is peaceful, the sharp angles softened. His dark hair is mussed against the pillow, and there's something almost boyish about the way his lips are slightly parted.
“Morning,” he murmurs against my neck, his voice rough with sleep.
“Morning.” His eyes open and bore into me, making my heart skip a beat. “How did you sleep?”
“Better than I have in weeks.” His hand traces the line of my spine. “You?”
“Same.” And it's true. Despite everything that happened yesterday, despite all my fears about what this means, being here with him feels like the most natural thing in the world, which should terrify me, but it doesn't.
“You okay?” I ask, noting how quiet he is.
“Yeah, just thinking about practice later.” He plants a kiss on my forehead. “What does your day look like? Besides the apartment check.”
“I have a debriefing meeting with Jennifer at nine.” I wriggle out of his hold and sit up, enjoying this moment of normalcy between us. “We're going through everything from Saturday night.”
“That sounds intense. What kind of things do you analyze?”
“Everything.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Vendor performance, guest feedback, timeline efficiency. Did the catering service hit their marks? Was the AV equipment seamless? How long did it take to transition from cocktails to dinner?”
His eyebrows raise. “I had no idea there was so much that went into it.”
“Most people don't.” I find myself smiling at his interest. “We also review budget reconciliation. Did we come in under or over, and why? Plus, I need to identify what we can improve for the next event.”
“Which is?”
