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Who the Heart Chooses

Page 63

by Harlow James

“All clean,” she announces before taking a seat on the couch beside me, flipping her wet hair up into a clip effortlessly. A yawn escapes her lips. “I’m beat, though. What time do you normally go to sleep?”

I glance at the clock on the wall. “I aim for no later than nine-thirty since five a.m. comes very early.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You get up at five every day?”

“Yeah. Electricity is an early riser.”

“I guess so.” She stifles another yawn.

“This game is almost over if you want to watch it with me before bed?”

“Okay. Sure.” She settles deeper into the couch. “I can’t remember the last time I watched a hockey game.”

“Really?” I ask, turning the volume up a bit.

“Yeah. You know my dad is obsessed and we all used to watch it together growing up, but now, school doesn’t leave much time for stuff like this.” She glances back toward our room. “I should probably be studying.”

I reach for her hand before she can get up. “You can take one night off. It’s been a crazy day. The books will still be there tomorrow.”

Her eyes dip to our joined hands before she slowly looks back up at me. “You’re supposed to be supporting my finishing school, remember?”

“I know, but you also need to let yourself rest so you don’t burn out, Lennon. Taking one night off isn’t going to derail anything.”

She sighs. “Fine, but only because the game has like fifteen minutes left, tops.”

I smile. “Exactly.”

Lennon yells at the TV at the end of the game as the opposing team gets a breakaway and threatens to tie the score. Luckily, Nashville’s goalie blocks the shot, securing their win.

“Oh my god! That was close. Colt Jensen is a beast, though.” Lennon stands from the couch, practically bouncing as she mentions Nashville’s starting center. I’ve followed his career for a while, and Lennon isn’t wrong—he dominates on the ice.

Can’t say I hate seeing her this excited about something that I enjoy too. “Seems you still like hockey.”

She plants her hands on her hips. “I never said I didn’t like it. I said I don’t have time for it.”

“Then maybe we need to make time.” Shrugging, I continue, “We should watch it together when we can.”

“Oh. Uh…yeah, that would be nice.” Her smile is the first effortless one she’s given me since our wedding, and fuck, it makes my chest crack wide open.

I can’t remember the last time I saw Lennon smile at me like that.

“Then it’s settled. We’ll make it a thing.”

A yawn escapes her lips again. “Okay, time for bed.” She turns away and points toward our bedroom. I shut off everything in the main part of the house before following her down the hall, unable to resist staring at her ass and the way it jiggles in her shorts.

And in just a few minutes, you have to sleep next to that, Easton. Through nobody’s fault but your own.

We enter the bathroom one after the other. Lennon reaches for her toothbrush as I do the same. We make eye contact in the mirror as we brush our teeth, and then suddenly, we’re fighting to contain our laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I mumble around my toothbrush.

Lennon’s giggles grow stronger. “I don’t know,” she mumbles back.

“Okay…”

Blue foam dribbles down her chin, making her laugh even more as she lunges for the sink.

Once we’ve both rinsed our mouths and she’s calmed down, I ask, “Have you always found brushing your teeth so hilarious?”