Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
BLAKELY
“We could do this when we both get back from California,” I say as Halsey walks, keeping one arm draped over my shoulders while he pushes the cart in front of us.
We’ve already picked out some furniture for my office and the bedroom, as well as bookshelves, a rug for the living room, and a rug for my office so we can make it our place—still so crazy that I’m saying that—and now we’re at Target, looking through simple home goods.
Halsey suggested a higher-end place, which I’d never shop at, but I told him the furniture is where we put real money into.
The little things like a candle can be bought at Target.
“Nah, we need to get a head start on your office to make sure it’s as comfortable as you want it to be. You already picked out the wallpaper, so why not the rest?”
“You’re sure you liked the wallpaper I picked out and you’re okay with actually having a wall with wallpaper on it?”
He pauses and turns to me. “Blakely, what makes you think I’m going to change my mind?”
“I don’t know, I just don’t want you thinking I’m taking advantage or anything.”
“The thought would never cross my mind, okay? I want you to be comfortable and I want you to be with me, therefore, we’re putting wallpaper up on the wall, we’ve bought furniture, and now we’re purchasing the trinkets that will make the place more homey.”
And this is why I can’t help but fall for this man, because he cares about me, about us, about going the distance.
He’s one of the top paid players in the league, he has all the fame, all the glory, yet, he’s the most down-to-earth man I’ve ever met.
You’d never know he was one of the best hockey players currently playing because he doesn’t flaunt it.
He doesn’t act like the world revolves around him. He puts me first.
He puts us first.
“Thank you,” I say as I press a kiss to his jaw.
“Anything for you, Blakely,” he says as he moves us toward the kitchen aisles. “Do we need another whisk?”
I chuckle. “No, we haven’t used the one that we have.”
“Can you tell that to Posey please? Because when we were panic shopping before you arrived at the apartment, he insisted I needed the whisk and I told him you wouldn’t use it.”
“I’ll make him a card with a he-told-you-so mention for you.”
“And that’s why you’re my girl,” he says while pressing a kiss to the side of my head.
“Hey, do we need a waffle maker?” he asks, stopping in front of one.
I chuckle. “Are you domesticating yourself today, Halsey?”
He looks me up and down and then back at the waffle maker. “What if I am, do you have a problem with that?”
“Not even a little.” I walk up behind him and put my arm around his waist while he inspects the waffle maker. “If you get one, we can get some of those Kodiak Cakes mixes that have extra protein in them.”
“Then it’s sold, we’re getting a waffle maker.” He scratches his chin. “Now the question is, which one? Two plates or four?”
“Four,” I say. “That way we can eat together rather than me eating my two while you wait for two more to cook.”
His eyes meet mine as he says, “Fuck, you’re so smart,” and then he plants a huge kiss on my lips, which only makes me smile.
“You didn’t have to get these pre-built,” Halsey says as he stares at the bookshelves we purchased.
We bought an L-shaped bookcase that fits perfectly in the nook of the living room.
I also surprised him with a reading chair and lamp that I bought on my own.
Something he wouldn’t buy for himself, but that he absolutely loves.
He’s also mentioned it will be perfect to fuck me on as well.
Not mad about that either.
“You weren’t going to build this by yourself.”
“You would have helped me,” he says.
I shake my head. “No, that’s where you’re wrong. I would not have helped you. I’m not into building or getting frustrated with each other over the assembly of furniture. Now let’s load your books on the shelves. The only thing we need to talk about is how you want them organized.”
“I don’t care.” He shrugs. “Just stick them on there.”
I clutch my hand to my chest. “Dear God, Halsey. I’m not even a big reader and I know that’s sacrilege. You can’t just stick the books up there. There needs to be purpose to it.”
“Why though? I don’t care.”
“Clearly, given where you’ve been storing all of your books, but now that they’re going to have a new home, let’s treat them with some decency. Now your choices are as follows: we can group them by author, or genre, or by color.”
“What do you mean by color?” he asks.
“Well, don’t let me influence you, but it might be fun to do what the Home Edit does.”
“What the hell is that?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “I should have known, given the state of your apartment when I arrived. The Home Edit are two ladies that have revolutionized the way we organize our houses. Their claim to fame is turning everything into a rainbow. So if you have a bunch of crayons, you organize them into rainbow order. Or books . . . you group them by color and put them in rainbow order.”
“Huh.” He glances down at the books. “Yeah, that might be nice. Although, there are a lot of black spines.”
“That’s okay, we can stack those up high and hopefully the more colorful ones will be at eye level.”
“That works for me,” he says as he starts picking up books and sorting them by color.
I start helping him but he stops me and says, “You’re not doing that right.”
“What do you mean?” I look down at my small piles.
“You’re not doing it with your shirt off.”
I roll my eyes and swat him away. “Don’t be a pervert.”
“Baby, when you have a girl like mine, it’s hard not to be a pervert. Now take off that top and those shorts. I want to see the goods.”
I look him up and down. “Only if you do.”
Eyes on me, he reaches behind his head and pulls his shirt off. Then he pushes his shorts down, leaving him in just his boxer briefs.
So . . . to match him, I take off my top and remove my shorts, leaving me in a thong and another see-through bra. I bought more once I saw how crazy they made him.
“Fuck . . . me,” he says as his eyes immediately go to my breasts.
I hold my hand out as he takes a step forward. “Books first, sex on the new chair after.”
“Promise?” he asks.
“Promise,” I say.
“Then get to work, you dirty girl. I need that pussy in my mouth now.” He slaps my ass and as a squeal comes out of me, he smirks and starts moving faster with the books.
Ugh . . . this man.
It’s crazy to say, but . . . I love him.
I know I do. I did love Perry, but this feels so different.
There were...boundaries with Perry. Limits.
And it’s not just that Halsey spoils me with whatever I want.
It’s more about his attitude toward me. I’m his world, which I’ve seen in Eli with Penny too.
These guys have so much riding on their careers, so much pressure not to be distracted by anything other than hockey, but they’re so sacrificial when it comes to how they love.
And let me tell you, it’s incredible to be the recipient of such devotion.
I’ve always wanted what my parents have.
They just complement each other in so many ways.
They’re different, just like Halsey and I are different, yet those differences make them better as a couple.
And I think I’ve finally found that too.
I could imagine spending the rest of my life with this man. More so than I ever felt with Perry.
These heavy feelings I have for him. It’s love.
It’s true, deep, real love.
Once-in-a-lifetime all-consuming love.
And I’m almost positive he feels the same way about me.
“You’re quiet,” I say to Halsey as I stroke my fingers over his bare chest.
We’re lying in bed, our breath still slightly labored from how Halsey took me against the wall, and I can feel him thinking.
How do I know? Because he’s the same after every time we have sex—he strokes my bare skin, telling me how soft it is.
He’s reminding me how beautiful he thinks I am, and he’s kissing me carefully until I fall asleep.
But he’s not doing any of those things, which means he’s thinking about something.
Something is on his mind.
“Sorry,” he says as he drags his fingers up and down my back.
“Don’t be sorry. Is there something you want to talk about that might be occupying your mind at the moment?”
He turns his head and kisses me on the forehead. “Got caught up in how much I like you. Moments like these, I wish I could share this with people.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“With Holden,” he says softly. “He’d like you so much. He’d immediately see how perfect you are for me and I don’t know, just sad that I haven’t been able to share this with him.”
“Oh, I understand.”
He’s silent again but then says, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Yeah?” I say as I play with his trimmed chest hair, letting the short, stubby strands run against my nails. “What are you thinking about?”
“I was thinking about contacting my parents.”
“Really?” I ask while I sit up so I can look at him.
He nods. “Yeah. There’s been too much time that’s passed where we haven’t kept in touch, and I don’t think that should continue.
Hell, I don’t know anything that’s going on in their lives and that’s scary.
What if they need help or what if they’re struggling?
I don’t know. I should at least try to contact them. ”
“Would you message them together? Because didn’t you say they were divorced?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I think I’d try messaging my dad first. He and I had a better relationship and my mom was closest with Holden so, I think if I approach my dad first, maybe that would be better.”
“I agree,” I say. “What about Hayden?” I bring my hand to his hair and smooth down the stray pieces. Beads of sweat still lay at his crown from how much he exerted himself.
“He’d be next on the list. I think he’d be the hardest to talk to.”
“Why?” I ask.