Page 89 of Risking the Pucking Defense

Her smile grows, and fuck if it doesn’t almost knock me on my ass.

She stretches up on her toes. For a moment, I think she’s going to kiss me, but then she moves to the side and whispers in my ear, “That would be telling.”

A laugh rumbles up my throat as she takes a step back.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she instructs, backing up toward a closed door behind her. “I’m going to change.”

Our eye contact holds until she gets to the door and slips inside.

“Fuck,” I breathe, dragging my hand down my face.

I stand there frozen for a minute or two, trying to get my head around everything that’s happened tonight, before I pull my tie off, abandoning it on the kitchen counter, and toeing off my shoes.

While she does whatever she does back there, I pull open her refrigerator in search of food and drink.

I might have picked at the buffet in the friends and family suite, but it was nowhere near enough.

I find another jug of her iced tea, and I pull it out, but there isn’t much in the way of food. Some bacon, cheese, and a few veggies in the bottom drawer. I could certainly make use of it all. But I’m craving something a little more…I don’t know, just not this.

“Hails?” I shout, unsure if she’ll hear me.

A second later, her bedroom door cracks open. “Yeah.”

“Can I order food?”

Please say yes. I want to hang out longer.

“Uh…yeah, sure. Go for it.”

“Did you want anything?” I offer, already opening a delivery app.

“Well, what are you getting?”

“Dunno. Oh, hot wings,” I say when an image of sticky, succulent wings appears before me.

“I could eat wings.”

“Barbeque ribs?”

“Oooh, yes,” she sings.

“Okay, I’m ordering stuff. Anything else?”

“Dessert,” she calls. “You choose.”

“Wow, no pressure,” I mutter to myself, although apparently, it’s not quiet enough.

“You told me that you know women. I trust you to make the right choice.”

“That isn’t helping,” I shout, making her laugh.

Hearing that, though, makes it all worth it.

By the time she emerges wearing a pair of leggings and a tank, her curls piled on top of her head and her face makeup-free, the order is placed and there’s a glass of iced tea waiting for her.

“You’re beautiful,” I blurt, sliding the glass toward her.

Her cheeks instantly heat, making the light freckles covering them stand out.