None of them are lies, but the seriousness in his tone keeps me from calling him on it. Shifting so I can look at him, I place my hand against his cheek.
Eye to eye like this, I realize he’s just as nervous as I am. He’s just better at hiding it.
“You were my first crush,” I tell him. “I’ll probably be awkward all night. And there’s nothing you could do to make me not want you.”
He huffs. “Dammit, your first crush was Dominic Hasek, wasn’t it?”
I laugh at the mention of the champion goalie. “So was yours.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, Brooks has him beat in my book.”
A familiar sense of ease seeps in. This is us. JJ and me. Always.
“I can’t believe you really put my name on a jersey and wore it tonight.”
He scowls. “You’ve done it for me plenty of times. Why wouldn’t I want to have my favorite player’s name on my back?”
I roll my eyes, but internally, I’m swooning. “JJ.”
“Yeah?”
“Will you kiss me again?”
His entire face lights up. “I thought you would never ask.”
He eases me into the kiss, coaxing me with soft lips and a curious tongue. My body grows warmer the longer we play, and when his hand drifts to the hem of my shirt, I don’t wait for him to ask if it’s okay, I beg him to touch me.
“Please, JJ, I need this. Need you.”
He slips beneath my bra, and when he cups my breast, he lets out a groan that vibrates through me.
It’s still not enough.
I pull off my shirt and straddle him, grinding against his lap. Lips tingling and blood heating, I beg him to take me to bed. He stands easily, guiding my legs around his waist without breaking the kiss. We drown in one another, forgoing breathing for just another moment of touching.
I can’t get enough. Of him. Of this sensation. I’ve always enjoyed spending time with JJ. Playing hockey, practicing, working out, talking—they’re my favorite things to do. Anything that involves him is on that list. But not a goddamn thing has ever compared to doing this with him.
When he settles me on the bed, placing his hand behind my head and easing me beneath him, I feel like the most cherished person in the entire world.
He whispers something else in French, the sound of the words on his lips making the warmth in my core build.
“This is better than every dream I’ve ever had,” he says. “Adeline, I—” He sucks in a breath. “I love you.”
Instantly, tears spring to my eyes. The words aren’t caused by the heat of the moment. They’re genuine. We may never have done thisbefore, but we’ve built this friendship, this trust, and this love, for years. So I don’t even think before responding. “I love you too. So much.”
“We don’t have to do anything else tonight, but?—”
I shake my head. “I want to. I want to know what it feels like. With you. I want more of you than anyone else has ever had.”
Hovering over me, he smiles, then presses another kiss to my lips. “You already have it, mon trésor. You have my heart. And you’re the only one who ever will.”
“Then show me.” The words rasp out of me. “Make love to me, JJ. Make me yours.”
He searches my face again. Like he’s looking for evidence that I’ll change my mind. But I won’t. I want this. I want him. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Sitting back, he tugs his shirt over his head with one hand like one of the sexy characters from Aunt Hannah’s books.
That thought makes me giggle.
