Page 110 of Hard to Handle

“I know. I watched.”

“And?”

“And you were incredible. One of the best games I’ve seen you play all year.”

“I was? It was?” His cheeks flush red and that little-boy smile kills me in every way imaginable—all of them good.

“You most definitely were.”

“I’m back,” he says, and it sounds funny because he is physically back at my place but he means figuratively as in on the ice. He realizes the humor the minute it leaves his mouth and we both laugh.

But when the laughter fades, we’re left staring at each other as how we left things between us hours ago replay in my head. There were no words spoken, there was nothing mentioned of where we go from here after this experience that no doubt drew us closer. There was just a bear hug that lasted so very long where words we both wanted to say were exchanged without speaking.

Thank you.

I’m here for you.

What is this between us?

Where do we go from here?

But when he left, we both had smiles on our faces—his eyes were still hollow, his shoulders still weighed down with the guilt I think he’ll forever own—but I swear it was less than he walked in here with. And that’s what I hope for. Each time I see him, to chip it away a little more. To lessen it bit by bit.

That he’s here, tells me I might be right in my thinking. That I might have seen what I thought I saw as I sat astride him and rode him to bliss.

“Why are you here, Hunter?”

A scratch of his cheek. A lopsided grin. A rock back on his heels. “Because your bed is way more comfortable than mine.”

And with that, he walks past me, into my apartment, and does a dive bomb onto my bed with the biggest whoop of laughter I’ve ever heard.

I stand there shaking my head at him until he notices me, grabs my hand, and yanks me down onto it with him. “Come here.”

My shriek fills the room, and while I’m more than certain the drunken, chaste kiss he smacks on my cheek is going to turn into something more, it actually doesn’t. Hunter pulls me against him, so his leg and arm flop over me, and pulls me in tighter.

“Mmm. I’m sleepy.”

“Okay, drunk boy.”

“I am drunk, thank you very much,” he murmurs. “And you’re just as comfortable as this bed.”

And for the second time in as many nights, Hunter Maddox falls asleep beside me.

If this keeps up, I’m going to need stronger locks to guard my heart, because he already has a large piece of it.

Falling for someone is never the plan. One day, you just wake up and it’s there in full-freaking, high-definition color.

How right my sister was.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

DEKKER

I STARE AT MY RESPONSE and go to delete it four times.

It’s unprofessional.

It’s not like me to write something like this and send it.