My boyfriend snapped to attention like he’d been enjoying a snooze until that point. Then he reached down, helped to pull the barbell up, and set it back in the holder.
Whew! That was a close call. I laid on the bench for a moment, processing the fact that I’d nearly been crushed and debated whether to do the same with Erik’s skull.
When I sat up a little, I found Erik standing in front of me with his hand outstretched. I accepted it and he pulled me back upright.
“Next time, you’d better stick to benching just three hundred pounds,” he said.
“And next time, you’d better not fall asleep. And quit calling me babe, would you? You know how much I hate that.”
“What’s the problem, babe? There’s no one in the gym to hear me call you babe, babe.”
“You’re doing it again.”
He flashed one of those sly smiles that said he delighted in driving me crazy. That look would’ve annoyed the hell out of me if it hadn’t been twice as sexy.
“And why shouldn’t I call you that?” he asked. “We’ve been together a while now, and everything’s going great.”
“That doesn’t mean you should call me something stupid.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t call you anything dumb.”
“But I bet you want to.”
“What do you possibly think I could call you?”
I froze, realizing I’d opened a seriously ugly door.
“You can call me stud muffin,” he said. “Sex god. The king of hot guys everywhere.”
“That’ll feed your ego way too much.”
“How about calling me boo?”
“=Anything but that.”
“What’s wrong with boo? It’s cute. Lots of people give that nickname to their love.”
“My point exactly. It’s way overdone. And stupid.”
“Then what else do you want me to call you? Sticky buns?”
“How about nothing? Just Kayden. Can you handle that?”
He wrinkled his nose at me like I’m no fun. Let me set the record straight: I’m tons of fun, but I draw the line at ridiculous nicknames. And thank God no one had been around to hear any of the other ridiculous pet names he’d used.
Erik had been right about one thing, though. The time we’d been together had been great. The sex had been amazing and was in no danger of growing stale. Also, I hadn’t thought about girls in all that time. I hadn’t thought about any other guys than Erik, but I would’ve expected to at least check out an ass or two. I should’ve longed for a woman’s touch. But so far, nothing.
The hockey season had pressed on, the Larkin Lions had kicked some serious ass, and we had become legit contenders to win a Division Three National Championship. Attendance at home games soared. Our little school now received more media attention than it was used to. I’ll be honest: I wasn’t used to that kind of attention either. People even recognized me on the street. Exposure to the national sports media was a big deal and felt a little intimidating, even for me.
So far, no one asked questions about Erik and me. That was just as well. I needed that time to get used to the idea of having aboyfriend—and thinking of him in those terms. Pet names would have to wait.
After we finished with the bench presses, we did dumbbell curls, and I couldn’t help admiring Erik in the mirror in front of me. I could get used to that.
Then we stepped onto neighboring treadmills, starting out slowly and working our way up. I leaned over and checked out Erik’s perfect ass. No matter how much time we’d spent naked together, my boyfriend still looked amazing in a pair of shorts, leaving me with an insatiable hunger.
“Gotta ask you something,” he said.
