Page 24 of Pucking Rebound
It’s stupid of me to want her.
Wrong of me.
And yet, for some unfathomable reason, I do.
I can’t seem to stop myself.
And it’s not a new thing either. It’s a feeling that’s been building for a few weeks.
I couldn’t act on those feelings then, and I still can’t now.
I let out a frustrated breath, pull open the fridge, narrowing my gaze from the brightness of the inside light, and grab a bottle of water.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Lola’s voice cuts through the silence of the open plan living space, making me whip around, my heart now leaping like a jumping bean.
I give a slight shake of my head and throw my hand to my chest. “Fucking hell, Lola. You scared me.”
“Sorry.” She chuckles.
I take a moment to answer. “No, I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me either.”
What little light there is reveals her small silhouette sitting on the floor beside the window.
I shut the fridge, plummeting us into almost darkness again, and walk over to join her where she’s made herself at home between two pieces of furniture as she looks out over the city.
“Are you warm enough?” I ask before I get comfortable, stretching out my legs and crossing my ankles.
She pats the floor. “I am. You have underfloor heating. Very cool.”
Tugging at the hem of my shirt she’s wearing to pull it down her toned thighs, she covers herself up which I’m sort of wishing she wouldn’t do because she has great legs.
My dick throbs at the sight of her wearing my clothes. My tee shirt drowns her and is more like a dress, the hem now just below her knees.
And there goes that dick twitch yet again.
Fucking hell. I want to ask it why it’s not been interested in anyone else, and trust me I’ve had plenty of offers and opportunities, only for it now to suddenly be all about Lola.
Just her.
No one else.
When we really can’t happen. I would never do anything to jeopardize my position on the team.
I should fix this and not make things awkward between us.
“Lola, I’m sorry about earlier. My actions and the things I said to you were inappropriate.” Meant them though.
“I’m not sorry,” she admits, surprising me. “I was flattered.” Laying her hand against the window, she says something very un-Lola-like. “The glass feels a little cold though. I’m not sure I like the idea of having sex against it.”
“Smart ass.”
“I’m more of a warm surface person.” She pats the floor again.
“Of course you are.” The pair of us laugh and turn our attention to the dark cityscape. “It’s stopped snowing,” I state.
“It’s so pretty. If I lived here, I’d never get any work done. I’d be staring at the view all day.”
