Page 80 of Center Ice
“Don’t even think it,” Jules says, her voice low and hard, warning me off my train of thought.
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Of course I do. You’re questioning why he’d rather spend time with you than go out and have a hundred women fighting for his attention.”
“Okay…maybe youdoknow what I’m thinking.” I’m not sure how she always seems to know what’s going on in my head, whereas I’ve never had to really consider what she’s thinking because her lack of filter means every thought comes out of her mouth.
“You’re gorgeous and kind and a great mom to his kid. He’s been nothing but clear about wanting a relationship with you. Don’t let your own insecurities get in the way of your happiness.”
I take a deep breath, knowing she’s right. Knowing that I’m letting my past—my dad ditching us, Drew not responding to my calls years ago, Scott leaving me and Graham after we’d already started talking about marriage—get in the way of my future.
Audrey:
Okay. Come over whenever you’re done.
“Alright, I told him to come over.”
“Good,” she says. “I guess that’s my cue to relocate to my bedroom.”
“He’s still got to shower and stuff. It’s not like he’s going to be here any minute.”
“I bet he will be. I bet he already has a car waiting for him, and he’ll be here in less than half an hour.”
Sure enough, Jules is right. It’s not even thirty minutes later when Drew is knocking on my front door.
He’s in his game day suit, and I literally feel like I can’t breathe as I look at the perfectly tailored navy blue pants andjacket, with the crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His brown hair is still damp at the ends, like he got dressed after his shower and left the arena as fast as he could. Good thing my place in the South End isn’t far from where they play.
“You’re…” I don’t even know what words I intend to follow that up with. Here? Sweet? Gorgeous?
He watches me, a smile tugging up one corner of his lips as I struggle for words. “You need me to finish that sentence for you?”
I lean against the door frame. “Go ahead and try.”
“…so crazy about you that I couldn’t take my eyes off you during the game?” He takes a step closer, his toes meeting the threshold of the door, and even though I’m a step above him, I still have to look up to see him now that he’s so close. “…unable to stand the thought of not seeing you again tonight?” He wraps one arm around my waist and tugs my body against his. “…looking forward to falling asleep with you in my arms?”
Stomach fluttering incessantly, I rest my forehead against the base of his neck, inhaling his clean, masculine scent. It would be so easy to let go, to throw caution to the wind, and let him sweep me off my feet. But I’m too pragmatic for that. I need to know there’s a solid foundation under us first, and I need to not be afraid to fall.
“You’re really determined, aren’t you?” I murmur against his shirt.
He raises his hand, sliding his palm along my neck until he cups my jaw in his hand. The sensation has me practically moaning against his palm. Then he tilts my chin up so I’m looking at him, and it’s a struggle not to get lost in the depths of those big brown eyes.
“I’m determined not to hide how I feel, Audrey. I know I fucked up in the past. I know I missed out on the baby years and raising Graham with you. I know you’re scared, and I knowyou’ve been hurt, and I know you’re not going to give me your heart easily. But I’m here until you’re ready, however long that takes.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
DREW
When I wake up, I’m overly warm. I can tell it’s still dark even with my eyes closed, but it isn’t until I feel movement in bed with me that I remember where I am. When my eyes drift open, Audrey’s hair is in my face, the light citrus scent wafting up around me. She’s either dreaming or just moving around in her sleep, but either way, she’s unintentionally pressing her ass against me, and my dick is springing to attention.
I want to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her tighter against me, then shower her with kisses until she wakes up. But my bladder has different ideas, thanks to the cup of tea she made me last night when I was a little too keyed up coming off a win to go straight to bed, no matter how much I’d insisted that I could go right to sleep with her. It had been sweet torture to wrap her in my arms but not make anything about the experience sexual—but that was what she needed from me. Now, however, my body is reacting to being in bed with her, and so I need to get up.
When I return from the bathroom, she’s rolled over and is facing my side of the bed. I slide in between the sheets, and she reaches over, stroking my face. In the darkness, I can barely tell she has her eyes open.
“You’re not leaving yet, are you?”
“No, my alarm’s set for 6 a.m. We have another hour before I need to go.” Do I need to leave that early for practice? No. But I do need to leave before Graham wakes up, because we don’t want to confuse him. Last night, we decided that he needs to know as soon as possible. But it needs to be an intentional conversation, not because he wakes up to find me in bed with his mom.
“Good,” she says, then reaches her arm around my neck and pulls me to her. When her lips meet mine, the kiss is soft and tentative, so different from the hungry, almost desperate way we clawed at each other in her office the other day. But when she parts her lips with a breathy sigh, and pulls my lower lip between her teeth, it’s like even though I want to take it slow with her, I can’t.
