CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Lucas
I wake up to her tucked against me like she never planned on leaving.
She stayed.
Her hair is a mess. One of her arms is draped across my chest, her hand fisted like she’s staking her claim. Her leg is hooked over mine, warm and solid.
For a second, I simply lie here with the sunlight spilling through the blinds and just breathe. Because this doesn’t feel like a mistake.
It feels dangerous in a way that makes my chest tighten. Not because I regret it, but rather because I don’t.
And that’s new.
Her lashes flutter, but her eyes don’t open yet. She shifts closer instead, tucking her face into the hollow of my neck like she knows it’ll fit there perfectly.
Definitely better than warm orange slices and Gatorade.
I swallow.
I’ve played through pain that made my vision blur. I’ve stood in stadiums so loud the roar rattled my bones. But this—waiting to see if she’s going to wake up and pull away or say this was a mistake—might be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
Last night wasn’t a lapse in judgment. Or a weakness. Or something I’m already trying to forget.
“I’m sick of pretending this isn’t happening.”
Last night was what I’ve waited for. What we’ve waited for. Wanted. And was pretty damn incredible.
Unable to stop myself, I shift so I can brush my mouth against her temple. Gentle. Unrushed.
Yeah, it was sex last night, but lying here next to her, it feels like so much more than that, and I’m not exactly sure how that’s supposed to make me feel.
Her breath stutters. Then she smiles. It’s slow and sleep-drugged and already has my cock stirring.
“Morning,” she murmurs, voice rough from sleep.
“Morning.”
Her eyes flutter open now. Brown and warm and searching my face like she’s bracing for something.
I don’t give her time to think. Or question. Or doubt.
“No regrets,” I state quietly. Unequivocally.
She studies me for a beat, like she’s deciding how honest she can be.
And the suspended silence as she does has my heart racing.
She snuggles in closer. “None,” she murmurs. “Just nerves.”
I nod. I get that. I run my thumb lightly along her arm to try and ground us both. “Whew. Because if you’d said yes, I was going to have to spend some serious time pretending I was fine with it.”
That earns me the sleep-drugged laugh I was working for. “So dramatic.”
“The word I’d use would be accurate.” I smile back. “There’s a difference.”
She shifts, propping herself up so her hair falls onto her face. I reach up without thinking and tuck it back.
She freezes for half a second.
And that makes me do the same.
“I’m assuming that was an okay thing to do, or no?” I ask, meaning more than just the touch.
She nods. “Totally fine.”
“I’ve spent so much time telling myself that this can’t happen that I think I’ve conditioned myself to react,” she says, and I appreciate her honesty.
“Well, I for one, am not complaining that it happened. That you knocked on the door. That you let me know what you wanted.”
Her smile is shy and she blushes. “Neither am I.” She leans forward and brushes her lips against mine. Good morning to me. “I would like to take one thing back though.”
“Oh?”
“Consider your needs improvement corrected.”
“Oh.” Hello ego boost. Her smile is a seduction in and of itself .
. . as if her naked, warm body against mine wasn’t already.
“You say that now,” I murmur, letting my thumb trace an idle line along her shoulder, slow and careful, like I’m still learning what she’s okay with.
“But I reserve the right to accept further corrections or chances to prove myself worthy if you feel so inclined.”
“No woman will ever complain about a man who’s willing to work for improvement or one who gives her incredible orgasms.”
I lift my eyebrows. “I think that was a compliment.”
“It was most definitely a compliment.” Her lips slide into a satisfied smile.
“I need to keep you around. You’re good for my ego.”
She laughs softly, the sound loosening something in her chest—and mine. As the teasing fades, it’s replaced by something quieter. More genuine. Her fingers on my skin pause and just rest in that spot over my heart.
The moment stretches. Comfortable. Charged. It doesn’t need words, but it feels so damn poignant.
She exhales, her breath warm against my collarbone before shifting to rest her head on my chest.
If there was such a thing as feeling someone overthinking, that’s exactly what this change feels like.
“Talk to me, Doc,” I say to try and stop whatever is spiraling in her head.
“I don’t know how we do this,” she finally says.
“Whew, because I was worried you didn’t want to do more than this,” I tease and press a kiss to the top of her head.
Why does this feel so easy?
I stare at the ceiling, considering it. “Well,” I say, “I once snuck around with my high school coach’s daughter for an entire summer, and no one ever found out except my brother, so I think I might be an expert on this subject.”
She lifts her head, eyes wide as if she doesn’t believe I just said that. “That’s not very reassuring.”
I grin. “My point is that we’re adults. Smarter. More careful. And significantly better at lying when necessary. Plus, we don’t have to hide any evidence in my parents’ car that I had a girl in there.”
She laughs. “That’s your pitch?”
I shrug. “It worked before, right?”
She shakes her head, smiling. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And according to you, I’m also trouble, yet here you are.”
Her fingers trace absent circles on my chest. “The last thing I want is for whatever this is to ruin anything. Your career. My job. Our standing with the team.”
“I know.” I pause, knowing the ramifications aren’t anything. “And I’m not pretending that the risk isn’t real. But walking away from something that makes me feel like this? That’s not a fair ask.”
She goes quiet at that. Almost as if she’s weighing the risks and rewards that we’re already acutely aware of.
“What you don’t seem to get is that you’re the revered, hero football player with a rare talent who people want to have on their team.
You get a pass for something like this. I’m .
. . me. A new member of the team. A woman, no less.
A dime a dozen when it comes down to it.
The consequences wouldn’t be the same for both of us. ”
I blow out a breath and put the arm opposite of her behind my head and stare at the ceiling. How do I argue with her when she’s probably right?
“I’m going to say that I disagree with your dime a dozen statement, but I’m not going to discount the rest of what you said. I don’t know what the consequences would be, but I’m sure you’re probably right.”
She presses a kiss to my chest. “Thank you for not disregarding my concerns.”
“They’re valid but so is this. Right?”
I can feel her lips curl up in a smile where they press against my skin. “It is.”
She falls quiet at that, and we lie like this for a while. No rushing. No urgency. Just breathing each other in like we’re both afraid the moment might slip away if we move too fast. Her fingers draw lazy patterns over my ribs. My hand rests at the small of her back as her hair tickles my cheek.
She shifts slightly. Hesitates. “I guess I should get going.”
My muscles tense at the thought. Of her leaving. Of this morning ending before I’m ready to let go.
How long has it been since I’ve felt this way?
“Probably,” I agree, even as my hand curls tighter against her. “But I feel like we should double-check something first.”
She lifts her head, brows arching. “Double-check what?”
I tilt my head as a slow, lazy grin slides across my face. “I’m pretty sure I left at least one or two orgasms up for grabs last night, and there’s nothing worse than unfinished business.”
She bursts out laughing. “Lucas—”
I roll so that our positions are somewhat reversed—my body halfway on hers, warm and soft beneath me.
“I’m serious,” I murmur and press a kiss to the side of her neck.
Then her collarbone. I shift so that I move between her thighs, taking her nipple into my mouth, and sucking on it.
I love the startled hitch of her breath.
I revel in the low-throated moan she emits even more.
I look up from between her breasts. “Just call it a quality control check.”
Her laugh stutters into a breathy sound as her fingers thread through my hair. “You’re impossible.”
“Maybe,” I say against her skin and quirk a brow. “But another day deserves another chance to prove to you I no longer need improvement.”
“Is that so?”
“Everyone deserves for their morning to start off right.”
I slide a hand between her thighs to find her so goddamn wet that my dick hardens painfully.
Her fingers tighten in my hair as I slip a finger into her. It’s my groan that fills the room now as her eyelids fall heavy and her hips thrust up.
“Good morning indeed,” she says seconds before sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and spreading her thighs farther apart for me.
And then the world narrows.
No clocks.
No rules.
No repercussions.
Just warmth and want and the quiet certainty that neither of us is ready to let this go just yet.