Page 252 of Cross Checked
“That’s distracting!”
“That sounds like a skill issue.”
I shoved my face into his chest while laughing again, and Cade’s arms came around me immediately, holding me close while his chest shook beneath my tender cheek.
This.
This right here felt more intimate than the sex.
A loud bang echoed faintly from somewhere downstairs, followed immediately by Aura yelling, “If you two are awake, some of us might enjoy breakfast before round twenty.”
Cade closed his eyes. “We should probably face the music.”
I groaned into his chest. “No. I’d rather die.”
“That dramatic, huh?”
“You didn’t hear Charm and me after Easton slept over. I’m so screwed.”
Cade blinked once. “Wait, Easton slept over? Like in Aura’s bed?”
“Yes to both.”
“Interesting.”
Charm’s voice floated up through the floor next. “B, if you make me hear one more headboard sound this early in the morning, I’m calling housing services.”
A second later, Briggs yelled, “Please include me as a witness in the complaint.”
Cade’s entire body shook with laughter.
I covered my face with both hands. “I can never leave this room again.”
“Oh no, Pip.” He slid out of bed, then stood beside it wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and confidence, stretching in a way that made every coherent thought immediately evaporate from my brain again. “Now I definitely wanna go out there.”
I stared openly.
His grin sharpened. “You checking me out?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“You’re literally standing there looking like a Calvin Klein ad.”
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
He leaned down and kissed me quick before tugging his jeans on, grabbing the hoodie off the floor, and tossing his T-shirt to me. I stayed wrapped in blankets for another minute, just watching him move around his room like he belonged inside every quiet, messy, impossible part of my life, and something deep inside me settled quietly into place.
Because he did belong there.
Eventually, I forced myself out of bed wearing his shirt and tiny sleep shorts, following him out of his room and down the stairs while mentally preparing for public execution.
Hockey House in the morning was its own specific brand of male chaos. The hallway smelled like laundry detergent, body wash, cold air from someone opening the front door too early, and whatever protein-powder war crime had already happened in the kitchen. A pair of hockey gloves sat abandoned on the bottom step. Someone’s running shoes were kicked sideways near the entryway, which probably meant Easton and Rider had already left for one of their miserable early morning runs like sociopaths with functioning lungs.
From the kitchen came Aura’s voice, Charm’s laugh, Ryan muttering something about burnt toast, and Briggs making a dramatic noise that sounded like a dying Victorian woman.
The second we walked in, Aura slowly lowered her coffee cup while Charm looked between us like she’d just spotted a rare animal species in the wild.
