Shit.
I need to get out of here before I do something stupid like strip her naked and have her writhing under my body. A cold shower is calling my name, along with my right hand, which I’ve been using since my breakup. That thought alone stops me from acting with my dick, but I can’t stop staring at her nipples peeking through my shirt. Damn, she looks good in my clothes.
Must. Stop. Thinking. About. Her. That. Way!
“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect.” The words leave my mouth, but I didn’t mean to say that out loud. The need to smack myself over how husky my voice comes out is strong.
We both freeze, her mouth slightly open in shock, and I watch her gulp as she stares at me with a confused expression. Maybe she didn’t hear me.
“What?” she croaks out.
“Coffee?” I say quickly, holding up a cup of coffee to distract her.
She rushes me, not even sparing me a second glance as she takes my cup out of my hands and starts chugging it down like she’s at a frat party. Coffee strikes again. Her attention is completely focused on the cup in her hand, and it gives me the opportunity to watch her shamelessly. When will I grow tired of her? Maybe never. Fuck.
Her eyes close in bliss, a small moan parting from her lips, and I don’t know how much more I can take without kissing her. It’s a bad idea, because it only leads to heartbreak and eventually lies, but I might be willing to take the risk. She’s not Victoria, and I think on the inside, she’s as broken as I am.
“What time are we meeting for breakfast? This kitchen is freaking fantastic, perfect for baking,” she says with wonder in her voice. She walks around me and pours another cup of coffee, then hands it to me without a word.
“In about an hour, so I’m going to go get ready. You can use anything in here. If you want to bake, go for it… You have to share, though. My home is your home.” I smile as I picture her dancing around my kitchen with a mess surrounding her as she bakes.
“My mom and I used to bake all the time. On my birthday, we would be in the kitchen all day, baking up a storm until it was dark outside. At the end of the day, she would make one cupcake with vanilla frosting and a single candle lit, and she would blow out the candle with me, like we were both wishing for the same thing.” She stares at nothing before shaking her head at the memory and meeting my gaze again.
She’s sharing a part of herself with me, and how hesitantly she talks makes me think she doesn’t open up ever with anything or anyone. Maybe I should give her a piece of myself.
“My parents don’t want me to play hockey, and I don’t think they’ve ever been to one of my games. They’ve been hoping it’s just a hobby until I’m ready to follow in my father’s footsteps and become a lawyer so I can work at the family firm,” I grumble, not looking at her as I tell her about my shit storm of a life.
“What do you want?” she questions, and when I look back at her, she’s already staring at me with her head tilted slightly to the side as she tries to figure me out. She’s actually curious about what I want, instead of what others except for me.
“I want to skate until I can’t anymore. Until my body gives out and my bones aren’t able to hold me up. I want to go pro and skate for the Boston Bruins,” I admit, thinking she’s going to laugh in my face, just like my family does.
“Are you any good?” she asks seriously, and I can’t help looking at her with my mouth agape.
“You’ve never been to a game? Isn’t this your last year before you graduate? Why haven’t you been to one of my games?” I can’t believe this girl, but she just shrugs her shoulders with a grin.
“I didn’t have a reason to, but I guess I do now. Being your fake girlfriend and all. Go team?” She pumps a fist in the air, and I start laughing at how that came out as a question. “Well, are you any good?” she asks with her hands on her hips.
“Princess, I’m the fucking best. I was born to skate on the ice,” I reply back cockily, but it’s the damn truth.
If only my team wasn’t a shit show right now. We need to get back to the top, but I don’t know how to move on from being betrayed by my team.
“Do what makes you happy, Captain. Don’t let anyone hold you back. If that’s what you want, then go after it.” She makes it sound like the most simple thing in the world, and the longer I stare at her, the more the idea of going after what I want seems closer than I ever thought.
“Granger?” She bites her lip as she looks up at me with big blue eyes.
“Yes, Kat?” I step closer until my chest almost touches hers, almost feeling her.
“I have nothing to wear to breakfast. Do-do you think you could come back with me to pick up some things from my father's house after breakfast? I’m going to text Mary and ask her to bring me something to wear,” she says in a rush as she avoids eye contact, running a hand through her tangled hair.
“Whatever you need. We can leave in twenty minutes,” I reply, and stride out of the kitchen towards my room, but I have to ask one more important question.
“Princess?” I walk backward and wait until she turns her head to look at me.
“When’s your
