32. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ava
Stretching like a cat sunbathing, a grin spreads across my face at the sound of Duncan moving in the other room.
A tingling sensation runs through my body, and I can’t stop thinking about how it felt to have his arms around me and the warmth from his strong body supporting me. My cheeks pull up further and I swear they’re going to crack.
“Duncan,” I whisper, shaking my head and pulling on my bottom lip, a snort escapes.
There’s no more denying that I am utterly infatuated with the brooding hockey player, my best friend’s younger brother.
Giggling, I throw the blanket over my head and let out a little squeal.
“Everything okay out there?” Duncan calls through the door, his husky voice sending a thrill to my toes.
“Completely fine,” I say, ripping the blanket off my head and doing my best to calm my racing heart. “Just getting up.”
Inhaling and slowly blowing out a breath, I sit up, push off the cushion and stand. Reaching for the blanket, I fold it and place it over the back of the couch. Tossing the pillow in the corner, and then straightening it, I make my way to the kitchen. I comb my fingers through my knotted hair as I go.
Catching a glimpse of my appearance in the mirror hanging in the hallway, I groan. Not washing my face before falling asleep has me looking like a raccoon, and my hair looks like someone spent hours teasing it.
The fact that Duncan saw me like this has my stomach swirling. Licking my finger, I remove the smudged mascara from under my eyes. Then I do my best to smooth my wild hair. Staring at my reflection, I sigh. I wish I looked more put together before seeing Duncan in a little bit, but then I remember he saw me like this when he woke up.
Planting a palm on my forehead, I grumble and sigh. “The real me is not as glamorous as the screen me.” I shrug.
Despite my appearance, I all but skip into the kitchen. Heading over to the counter, the first thing on my list is to find the coffee. Making my way down all the cabinets, I come up empty. It’s not until I check the fridge that I see a can sitting on the door shelves.
“Hmmm…Duncan keeps his coffee in here? Interesting.” I’ve heard cases supporting this and against it. But I’ve also heard putting it in the freezer is best. My lips pull up at my random thoughts. Regardless, I’m curious to see what his reasoning is.
Taking the coffee out, I bring it to the countertop and put it down. Looking back over the counter, I search for the coffee maker. Spotting it against the wall, I reach out, tug it in the middle of the counter and fill the carafe with water.
Once the coffee has started, I head back to the cabinet where I remember seeing mugs and pull out two.
“Does Duncan drink coffee?” I mumble to myself, only to have my heart lodge in my throat when his deep voice responds.
“No, I don’t.”
Turning to him with my hand covering my chest, my mouth hanging open. My heart falls and starts to race. Seeing him makes my stomach swoop and my knees feel like jelly. Standing in front of me is the most sexy, rumpled version of Duncan I’ve ever seen.
Or maybe I’ve just never noticed before. How could I not have noticed?
His brown hair is tousled and he’s wearing a Wolverines sweatshirt that clings to every one of his muscles, making his shoulders look ridiculously broad, with a pair of black sweats.
When my gaze slides back to his face, his green eyes are dancing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
The temperature in the room must have increased ten degrees since he’s been standing here, and I’m pretty sure my face is an alarming shade of red. The air feels like it’s being sucked out of the space.
Reaching up I run my hand down my loose hair and let out a slow, shaky breath. “Why don’t you keep the coffee in the freezer?”
His brow quirks and the corner of his lip lifts. “What?”
“Your coffee can was in the fridge. Why don’t you keep it in the freezer?” The smile on his face expands and I feel ridiculous for even bringing this up, but it was the only thing I could think of with him looking like that.
“Does it make a difference?” His voice dips as he starts to make his way over to me, and gently pushes my hair behind my ear, sending tingles down my spine.
Doing my best to pretend that every ounce of my body isn’t firing on all cylinders, I answer his question. “Well, the freezer is said to help extend the shelf life, whereas the fridge doesn’t.”
“Is that so?” He says gruffly, his chest rumbling as his gaze drops to my lips. My heart starts to thrum its way around my body. “The only person who drinks coffee when they come over is David. I’ll have to make sure to ask him.”
“Well, as we saw, he keeps his in the cabinet. So…” Duncan’s grin spans his face and he throws his head back and laughs.
A silly little grin creeps along my face in response, and when his gaze finds mine, there is a tenderness in them that makes my breath hitch.
“How did you sleep?” He leans his hand on the counter next to my waist, surrounding me with that cedar-y scent of goodness that is distinctly Duncan.
Lifting my hand I rest it gently on his chest. “Your couch is surprisingly comfortable,” I murmur, holding his gaze with mine.
“It’s not too bad, I guess.” His eyes crinkle at the corner. “I enjoyed the company.”
“The company was very nice,” I say, smiling shyly. Under my hand I can feel his heart pounding like a drum. Knowing I have the same effect on him as he does on me has my heart bouncing around my chest. “Were you comfortable?”
He rolls his neck before saying, “I think the coffee is done.” My brows shoot up and I tilt my head. “The coffee.” He steps away from me and moves toward the coffee maker.
Oh yeah, the reason I’m in the kitchen in the first place.
I watch him as he grabs one of the mugs and starts pouring. “How do you like it? Sugar, cream?”
A smirk lines my lips as I watch him. “Yes, please.”
He moves to the cabinet and pulls out the sugar bowl, while I head to the fridge and grab the creamer. “Are you sure you don’t want any?”
“I’m not a huge fan of the taste, but even if I were I definitely wouldn’t drink it on game day—way too dehydrating.” Grabbing a spoon from the drawer and holding the top of the sugar bowl open, he asks. “How much sugar do you like?”
A goofy grin creeps on my face. His eyebrows narrow slightly, and a self-conscious lopsided smile crawls on his lips. I pour a bit of creamer in my coffee before responding. “Half a spoonful. And you’re kind of adorable.”
Placing the carafe back on the hot plate, I turn to my mug, and mix the creamer and sugar with the spoon Duncan left for me.
I can feel his eyes still on me and I lift my mug to my lips. “What?” I ask right before taking a sip, glancing in his direction.
“Nothing.” The glint in his eye tells me there’s something he’s not saying. “Are you going to my game today?”
“Of course!” I smile as he walks over to the fridge and pulls out what looks like three dozen eggs. “Scarlett tells me you’re playing the Panthers for the first time since you were traded. She keeps saying it will be a ‘big game’. She’s excited.”
“Are you hungry?” He asks, holding up the frying pan before turning on the burner and putting it on the stove. “I need to get some protein in.”
“I’m good.” Leaning against the counter, I watch him as he deftly mixes a dozen eggs in a bowl before pouring them in the pan. “Are those all for you?”
“Have to make sure I get all the protein I need.” He turns and looks at me with a mischievous grin on his face. “But this isn’t the half of it. I’ll make a smoothie in a little bit, and then I’ll eat something else about an hour before the game.”
My eyes widen and his smile broadens. “Hockey players burn a ton of calories during a game, and we need to worry about muscle repair afterward.”
Pulling out a plate from one of the cabinets, I place it next to the stove, and then I reach over to grab a fork. “I think that is about half of my daily calorie intake.” I chuckle, pointing at the cooked scrambled eggs he’s scooping on his plate.
“Yeah, I’d never survive on your diet.” He takes his plate and moves to the island, sitting at one of the stools. Leaning against the counter, sipping my coffee, I let myself indulge in watching his movements.
“Will you be wearing my jersey?” He looks up at me before quickly returning to his eggs.
“That’s what your girlfriend would do, right?” I say teasingly, but as soon as the words are out of my mouth I regret them. Duncan’s hand freezes in the middle of scooping and looks at me guardedly before dropping his gaze down and continuing to eat.
“Yup,” he says, abruptly and my stomach sinks. “Ava…”
“Yes?” A flicker of hope flits around my chest, but it’s quickly smothered at his next words.
“I forgot I need to get to the arena early and will need to head out in about ten minutes. I’ll drop you off at David’s then.”
“Oh…okay.” I finish my coffee and rinse out the mug, silently cursing my choice of words.
Placing the mug in the dish rack, I lean back against the counter and study Duncan for a bit. He finishes his breakfast and places the plate, fork, and frying pan in the sink, not looking in my direction once.
“I just need to grab my stuff and then we’ll head out,” Duncan throws over his shoulder.
Watching him walk out of the room I sigh. We need to have a conversation about ‘us’. I know I’m not the only one who feels what’s happening, but the man in the other room has some doubts.
Not that I can blame him, especially after my reaction last time.
My fear? That he’ll reject me this time.