37. Sienna
SIENNA
Fuck porn. That’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
My body is on fire as I stand motionless, staring at Calvin as he rights his clothing.
I knew what we were doing was affecting him. He might not have been wearing sweatpants, but it was more than obvious what was happening south of his waistband.
I wanted to call out and stop him the second he retreated from the couch, but old fears stopped the words from coming out.
He’d just made me feel so good, better than anyone before, and I was desperate to return the favor.
But he’s right. We need to take this slowly. One step at a time.
Standing here now, though, my hands curled into fists, I couldn’t help wishing that I was braver so I could have gotten an even better view of the moment he fell apart.
From a distance, it was incredible. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to be closer and know he was falling apart because of me.
I mean to move, to rush back to the living room before he turns and realizes that he had an audience for what should have been a very private moment.
But my feet are rooted to the spot, and before I know it, he’s cleaned up, and he’s turning toward me.
Not a single ounce of shock covers his face when he finds me standing there, gawking at him.
He knew.
He knew I was watching, but he carried on anyway.
Talk about giving me a show.
His eyes drop to my bare feet and then slowly travel all the way back up. From the way his eyes blaze with fire, I might as well be standing here naked, not with his gigantic hoodie hanging down my thighs.
His breath catches when his eyes finally collide with mine.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts, lifting his arm and combing his fingers through his hair. “I just…Fuck. I was gonna explode, darlin’.”
I can’t help but clench my thighs at the thought of getting him that turned on.
I shake my head. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Don’t apologize.”
It takes a couple of seconds for him to register my words, and the moment he does, a smirk twitches at his lips.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then, you’re welcome. I’ll happily let you watch whenever you want.”
My mouth opens and closes, but I fail to find any words.
With his smirk still firmly in place, Calvin marches forward, takes my face in his hands, and kisses me until I’m breathless.
Then, he twists his fingers with mine and tugs me back to the couch, where he pulls me into his side and kisses the top of my head.
“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, making my heart pound even harder.
“So are you.”
We both stare at the TV screen for a minute or two. I don’t know about him, but I don’t really see any of it.
“What is this shit we’re watching?”
“I don’t know; you put it on,” I point out.
“Don’t blame me. I was distracted by the hot girl wearing my hoodie.”
I chuckle before grabbing the remote and finding a home reno show.
“You’re obsessed with these, huh?”
“I like to see people’s visions come to fruition. Watching them take something battered and broken and giving it a new lease on life.”
“Do you want to go and watch the game on Wednesday night?” he suddenly asks, changing the subject.
“Is this our second date?” I tease.
“A hockey game isn’t what I’ve been planning. But they’re playing Seattle; it should be a good game.”
“You know I’m always down for a hockey game.”
“I have one condition,” he states, turning to me with a serious expression on his face.
“Go on.”
“You’ve got to wear my jersey.”
“What makes you think I own anyone else’s?”
His smile grows. “There’s no reason for you to. And if you do, I’d suggest you burn them.”
His possessive streak sends a shot of electricity through me, and I snuggle closer.
“So, what about this date you’re planning?” I ask, beyond curious about what he’s got in mind.
“Friday?”
“I guess it depends on how the game goes.”
“Why? Are you going to refuse any more dates if the Vipers lose?”
“While I rate their chances of bringing home the W against Seattle, they haven’t had the strongest start to the season. I wouldn’t want to put that much pressure on their shoulders. I’d be so sad if they lost.”
“Oh yeah?” he teases, shifting to face me.
“Yep. I’m starting to like you a little bit.”
“Only a little bit?” he taunts.
“Uh huh.”
“I think I can prove to you that it’s more than that.”
He shifts us so we’re lying on the couch, his bad leg stretched out in a way that I pray doesn’t hurt him, and then he pulls me into his arms, and we make out like teenagers for the longest time.
“I should go,” he finally says once we come up for air.
“You don’t have to,” I blurt without thinking.
“As tempting as that is, darlin’, I promised you that we’d take this slow, and I have every intention of following through with that.”
My heart slams against my ribs. How did I ever think this man was nothing but a fuckboy? He is the kindest and most thoughtful guy I’ve ever spent time with.
I roll off the couch, allowing him to do the same and get to his feet.
“All your dishes are still in the dishwasher,” I tell him as I walk him to the front door.
“Then I’ll have to come back and get them. Tomorrow, maybe?”
“I’m meeting Bea for brunch, then a shopping trip. Tomorrow evening?”
“Tomorrow evening. I might even cook for you again, if you’re lucky.”
“What have I done to deserve this?” I ask, gazing up at him with what I fear are heart eyes.
“You’re just you,” he breathes, cupping my jaw tenderly. Leaning in, he brushes his lips against mine in the sweetest of kisses. “Sweet dreams, darlin’. I hope they’re of me.”
“If they are, then I can assure you, they won’t be sweet.”
“Goddamn.” He groans. “What are you doing to me?”
“Tell me everything,” Bea demands, not even bothering with a hello, when I slide into the booth at our favorite brunch place the next morning.
“Well, good morning to you, too,” I tease.
“Yeah, yeah. You can’t message me to inform me that Calvin was waiting in your parking garage for you to return and then ghost me afterward. That is not best-friend behavior.”
I laugh as the server comes over for our drink order. Usually, I’d stick to non-alcoholic drinks to keep pregnant Bea company, but this morning, knowing all the questions that are going to be fired at me, I need more.
“Mimosa, please,” I say, aware that Bea’s laughing at me from across the table.
“Sienna,” she prompts the moment we’re alone again.
“I’m starving,” I say, reaching for the menu. “What are you hav—hey,” I complain when she snatches it from my fingers.
“Nice try. Spill, Wentworth.”
“Oh, I’m getting second-named now.”
“Yes, yes, you are. Haven’t you heard that you shouldn’t rile up a pregnant woman? It’s not good for the baby.”
“That line might work on Rett, but it won’t fly with me.”
She rolls her eyes, but thankfully releases the menu.
Calvin’s lasagna was delicious, but I think I might have burned it off after.
Deciding on avocado toast with poached eggs and a side of fresh fruit, I slide the menu away and focus on my impatient friend.
“We had a really nice night, thank you for asking.”
She narrows her eyes, and I burst out laughing.
“Fine. He ran me a bath, and then went to his apartment to get a lasagna he’d made earlier. When I got out, my apartment looked like date heaven. He’d bought flowers, candles, and wine. It was pretty incredible.”
“Calvin? Calvin Keller cooked you a lasagna? Bought you flowers? Lit candles?”
“Uh-huh,” I agree. Just a few weeks ago, I’d have thought it was impossible as well. But I’ve recently learned so much about the enigma that is Calvin Keller, and, well, let’s just say he is nothing like the media portrays him. “Wow.”
“We spent the night watching TV. It was nice.”
Her brows lift. “You spent the rest of the night watching TV?” she echoes.
“Yep. A documentary and then some home reno shows.”
“Right. And then what? He just went home?”
“Something like that.”
The server chooses that moment to come over to deliver our drinks and take our food order.
Bea’s eyes burn into me as the server leaves, and I take a long sip of my mimosa.
“Spill, Sienna.”
“Fine,” I say, throwing my hands up dramatically. “There might have been some kissing and stuff.”
A wide smile lights up Bea’s face.
“I knew it.”
“Then why did you need me to tell you?” I tease.
“What’s he like? A good kisser? What about everything else?”
“Yes, he’s a fantastic kisser. We haven’t had sex yet.”
“You haven’t?”
“No. We’re taking things slow.”
“Fair enough. You want to, though, right?”
I smirk behind my glass.
“So, what are you?”
“Bea,” I warn. “You sound like a needy girlfriend, and you’re not even a part of this,” I tease.
“I know, I know. I’m just excited. You’re dating Calvin Keller. You are dating, right?”
“We haven’t really handed out titles. But he invited me to the game on Wednesday, and he’s taking me out on Friday night for our official second date.”
“Oh my god,” Bea squeals, clapping her hands together like a seal. “You’re dating Calvin Keller. You’re gonna be a WAG too.”
“Whoa, calm down there. You heard me say we’re taking it slow, right?”
“Sorry, sorry. This is just so exciting. I know how long you’ve loved hockey. Did you ever think something like this would happen?”
“No, absolutely not,” I say honestly.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: I’m not telling you what we’re doing Friday night, but it’s going to be cold. Just in case you were thinking of buying yourself something new for our date.
I frown at my cell. It’s going to be cold.
Surely he’s not taking me to two hockey games in a week?
I pull up the NHL schedule and see who’s playing. I already know the Vipers aren’t. Maybe Anaheim or San Diego? Or maybe we’re traveling farther away. No, he’d have warned me if I needed to pack, and he knows I work Saturdays.
“What’s the look for?” Bea asks when she moves closer, an array of baby clothes swinging from her fingers. She said she was limiting herself to one outfit in here, but she’s currently holding at least six.
“I…um…what do you think this means?”
I spin my cell around and show her the message.
“I think it means that Calvin has an ego as big as Everett’s, but we already knew that.”
“Not his name, the message. What the hell is he planning Friday night?”
“Hockey game?”
“Too obvious.”
“Walk in the park? Nighttime picnic?”
My head spins, trying to come up with options.
Sienna: You’re going to need to give me more information than that.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: You’ll want to be comfortable.
“Well, that isn’t helpful,” I cry, making Bea rush back over.