Page 116 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

“You look beautiful.”

I lift my hand and absently smooth my hair down. I feel like a mess after traveling, but the way he’s looking at me…I might as well have just walked off a runway.

He takes a step forward, and I instinctively take one back.

His brow wrinkles as he searches my eyes.

“I’m not running,” I assure him. More teasing.

“If you feel like you need to, all you’ve got to do is tell me,” he says sincerely. “Just tell me your limits and I’ll respect them.”

He moves a little closer and reaches out, cupping my jaw.

“I just want you; everything else is a bonus.”

My eyes shutter as I try to process what he’s saying.

It’s so at odds with everything I’ve known about this man for so long that it’s hard to believe it.

But I do. I see it in his eyes.

“Just take it slow,” I whisper, trying not to drown in the shame that claws at me like an illness.

I so desperately want to be like the woman he’s used to being with. I want to be able to throw caution to the wind and enjoy myself. But it’s not that easy. Maybe one day…

“That was already my plan, darlin’.”

I’m so lost in his ocean-blue eyes that I don’t realize we’ve arrived at my floor until the doors slide open.

Together, we make our way to my apartment, and after digging out my key, I let us both in.

I half expect him to pick up where we left off, and I can’t lie, I’m disappointed when he doesn’t immediately back me up against the wall and kiss the life out of me.

“Did you have any plans for tonight?” he asks after depositing my suitcase in the hallway and following me to the kitchen. I pull the fridge open and untwist the top of a bottle of water.

“Nope. No plans. You?”

“Kinda depends on you.”

“Oh?” I ask, more than a little intrigued.

He smirks, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I’ve got everything under control.”

I narrow my eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

I nod before I’ve even thought about the answer. It’s a knee-jerk reaction that I might regret in the coming weeks or months, but right now, it’s the truth.

“Good,” he states before spinning on his heels and marching in the direction of my bedroom.

“Calvin, what are you doing?” I cry, racing after him to see what he’s up to.

After abandoning my suitcase in my bedroom, he marches into my bathroom.

I hit the doorway as the sound of the faucet running hits my ears. And my next breath is filled with the scent of vanilla and coconut. My bubble bath.

He’s…he’s running me a bath.