Page 210 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

He takes his seat opposite me, and we just stare at each other. There are a million and one things we could be talking about, but it seems that neither of us can bring ourselves to break the silence; the connection between us.

“Eat,” Calvin finally instructs.

“Thank you,” I whisper, reaching for my knife and fork. “This looks delicious.”

As I cut a piece of chicken off, Calvin doesn’t so much as reach for his cutlery. Instead, he just watches me as I have my first taste.

I can’t help but groan when the flavors hit my tongue. He really is an excellent cook.

“It’s incredible,” I tell him honestly.

Happy with my feedback, he finally picks up his fork and begins eating while asking me about my day.

He listens to me talk like I have the most fascinating job in the world. I’ve never known a person outside of my family who genuinely wants to hear about the kind of nail art I’ve done, or just how badly some of the feet I’ve been forced to touch smell after a day of gift shopping.

He’s fast to tell me that whatever smell I’ve had to endure can’t be worse than what he’s experienced over the years in men’s locker rooms.

Honestly, I dread to think.

Before long, the conversation turns to his work and the new addition to the team. He gives me a rundown of Nash’s first day in the Vipers barn while we finish our meals.

“I’m so full,” I complain, resting back in the chair with my hands on my swollen belly.

“Don’t say that, we’ve still got dessert.”

“I might have to have that as takeout.”

“Or you’ll just have to stay a little longer?” His question is teasing, but his eyes are full of hope.

“Okay,” I agree, nowhere near ready to say goodbye yet. “Could I use your bathroom?”

He smiles at me. “That door over there,” he says, pointing to the other side of the vast living space.

I walk across his apartment, aware that his eyes are on me the entire time. When I come to a stop at the door, I look back over my shoulder and find his eyes glued to my ass.

“See something you like?” I tease.

“Darlin’, you have no idea.”

I’ve still got my eyes on him when I twist the handle and open the door, so I don’t get any warning about what’s about to happen until something flaps above my head.

“What the⁠—”

I look up and see a small bird flying for its life through Calvin’s apartment.

The scream that rips through the room is more startling than the freaking bird.

“What’s—”

“I’m gonna need you to get that out,” Calvin cries before racing to another door and disappearing behind it.

My mouth opens and closes as the terrified bird does another lap of the living area, looking for its escape.

And then I’m hit with a memory of that summer.

Calvin is terrified of birds.

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