“Really?” I groan. “Do you have to adopt that nickname?”
She smirks into the camera. “I like that I know it’s got a double meaning.”
“You know I shower with the guys on almost a daily basis,” I point out.
“Oh, Christ. Now there’s an image.”
“Hey, now. Get them out of your head right this second.”
Her smile turns wicked. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
“I’m not interested in a single other player on our roster, Rivers. You don’t need to worry about that. There’s only one jersey I’m wearing right now.”
“Jesus, Casey,” I groan as if in pain.
“How are you feeling? Tonight was?—”
“I’m not thinking about that right now,” I blurt.
“I know, but you took a few hard hits and?—”
“I’m fine, baby.”
“I bet that’s not what Lennon said when you were crying like a baby on his table.”
“Shit, did you talk to him already?” I ask, making her laugh.
The sweet sound hits me right in the chest.
Fuck. I want to hear that every fucking day for the rest of my life.
“Nah, he prefers to have our chats in the mornings. He’s wiped after working all of you over.”
I glare at her through the screen, waiting to see if I can break her.
“Casey,” I growl.
“Yes, Kodie?” she asks sweetly.
“Whose jersey are you wearing right now?”
The little minx has the audacity to pull at the fabric to double-check.
“You’re in so much trouble,” I tease.
She bites down on her bottom lip and looks up at me through her lashes.
“What are you going to do about it from all the way over there?”
One side of my mouth curls into a smirk.
“Prop your cell up on your pillow, then get on your knees in the middle of the bed,” I demand.
She shuffles around for a few moments.
“Like this?” she asks coyly, lifting her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Now what?”
“Spread your thighs.”
