Chapter 11
VANESSA
Gavin laughs, and the sound is low and rumbly and goes right between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together as subtly as I can, trying to push the feeling away, but all it does is make it worse.
“Don’t worry, love, I’m not sleeping in there with you.”
Disappointment rattles through me, and I try not to show it. I shouldn’t be feeling that way anyway. We are just friends, after all, and since we’re friends, it doesn’t feel right to take his bed and make him sleep on the couch.
“It feels wrong to steal your bed.”
“It’s not stealing if I’m offering. End of discussion.”
He says it with such finality that I snap my mouth closed, and I chalk it up to being so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open.
He pads out of the kitchen, and I follow after him, taking in his penthouse as we go.
Photos line the light gray walls, and I assume it’s the nieces and nephews he’s so fond of.
There are multiple images of what I can only assume is his family, and even a few of him with teammates, too.
I can’t recall the last time I saw a guy actually want to display his love for his family and friends like this.
But that’s not all he has that surprises me. Sitting opposite the large leather sofa that can’t possibly be comfortable to sleep on is a tank.
“Is this saltwater?” I ask, bending down to peer in.
“Yep. This is my pride and joy.” Gavin leans down next to me, then points to the little fish in the corner. “This is Pearl.” He points to a second, smaller fish I hadn’t noticed before. “And this is Rufus.”
“They’re clown fish? Like Nemo?”
He chuckles. “Yes, just like Nemo. And these little guys are firefish goby. They get along well, which is important. Don’t want anyone getting too feisty.”
“Wow,” I say, watching them swim around in their home. It’s full of beautiful coral and anemones and so many other things I can’t even begin to name. “They’re all so pretty. This tank is gorgeous. All the colors and rocks…it’s all so vibrant. Peaceful.”
“Thanks. I, uh, I got into fish when I was younger. Having so many siblings meant limited space in the house. We already had four dogs and two cats, so when I wanted a pet of my own, my parents insisted it be something small so it wouldn’t take up too much room.
I settled on a goldfish, and it took off from there.
” I’m no longer looking at the fish. I’m looking at Gavin and how his eyes grow brighter with each word.
It’s so cute to see him so clearly excited about something.
“I built this tank about six years ago. Definitely sucks when it comes time to trade teams, but I wouldn’t change it.
I could sit and watch them swim all night. ”
“Is that why there’s no TV in here?”
He winces. “Is that weird?”
“Only if you tell me you don’t have one at all. Then I might have to make an excuse to leave because there is no way you’re not a secret serial killer.”
He grins. “I have one in my bedroom.”
“Phew. That was a close call.”
He shakes his head, still smiling. “Come on. Let’s get something to wear.”
Wear? Oh, god. I hadn’t even thought about not having something to sleep in. Normally, I sleep in just my underwear and a t-shirt. I can’t do that here. That would be too much…right?
Gavin leads us into his bedroom, and I pause at the threshold.
He wasn’t lying about the TV. There’s a big one mounted to the wall opposite the king-sized bed in the middle of the room.
A sleek black wooden headboard matches the dresser and bedside tables.
Off to the side is a big leather chair with a lamp sitting beside it, and I wonder how many nights he finds himself there with a book.
I laugh when I spot another tank, this one much, much smaller.
“Another fish?”
“Huh?” he says, popping his head out of the closet off to the side. “Oh, yeah. That would be Sir Fishsticks the Fourth.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “What?”
Pink stains the tops of his cheeks. “I, well… That was the name of my first goldfish. When he passed—RIP to the little guy—I got another, and I felt it was appropriate to honor him. I just sort of kept up the tradition through the years.” He grimaces.
“It’s hokey, I know. But I was young, all right? ”
I smile, shaking my head. “Not hokey. Sweet. It actually kind of humanizes you a bit.”
He tips his head to the side. “Humanizes me?”
I shrug. “Yeah, I mean, you’re… Well, you’re you .
You’re this larger-than-life guy who makes millions of dollars a year playing hockey.
People beg for your autograph and photos.
They bid on things you sign. Little kids idolize you.
Fans literally scream your name. You’re not exactly an average joe. ”
He looks surprised by this, like it’s new information to him, and it might be, especially with the way he seems to carry himself.
I’ve not spent that much time with him, but never once have I gotten the sense that he thinks he’s better than anyone else.
It’s refreshing after spending so much time in a world where I thought I had to be better.
When the hell did I get so lost? When did I become that person? When did I lose who I truly am? And can I ever get her back? I don’t know, but I’d like to try.
“Right,” Gavin says, pulling me back to the present. He clears his throat. “Anyway, I think this will work.”
He passes me a gray t-shirt, and I shake it out. Seattle Serpents Hockey Club , it reads. It’s obviously been worn a lot, and I wonder if it’s a frequent flyer of his. Something about that idea makes me feel warm, but I try to ignore it.
“Thanks,” I say, taking it, then pointing to what I assume is the bathroom. “Do you mind if I…”
“Go ahead. There are towels in there if you need them for anything, and extra toothbrushes are in the drawer because I often forget them in hotel rooms and then overbuy them.” He gestures toward the living room. “I’m going to make up the couch.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to stop him and tell him this is ridiculous, I can’t take his bed, and invite him to sleep next to me. But I don’t say any of that. I just nod, then disappear into the bathroom, hiding from him…and maybe myself too.
I find a washcloth and scrub off the little bit of makeup I managed to put on this morning, then grab a toothbrush. I do everything else—including snooping in his other drawers—to avoid putting on the shirt he gave me. It’s silly considering our history, but something about it feels so… intimate .
I’m not sure I’m ready for intimate.
After procrastinating as long as I can, I grab the shirt and trade my own for it.
My nipples pebble instantly as the material slides over me, hitting just above my knees.
I tell myself it’s because of the cold, but I know it’s because it’s his , and something about that does things to me that it shouldn’t.
It smells like him, like warm and cedar. A crisp autumn day and a cozy blanket.
I attempt to push the sensation away as I pad out of the bathroom. Gavin is still in the living room, so I slip under the blankets as quickly as possible, though I don’t know why. He’s seen me in far less than just his t-shirt, but still.
I burrow under the comforter and relax into the bed.
It’s heavenly after such a long day and all the hours I’ve been putting in at the bar.
Stepping into the bartender role has been easier than I thought.
It’s nothing that fills my cup to the brim, but it’s something new, and I’m okay with that for now.
My body is getting comfortable, and my eyes are growing heavy.
“Good?”
I blink my eyes open. When did I even close them? Gavin stands in the doorway leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks so good like this, so relaxed and confident.
“Very. Has anyone ever told you how comfortable your bed is?”
He chuckles, pushing off the door. “I’ve never had anyone else in my bed.”
If I weren’t so tired, I might analyze that more, but my eyelids feel like they weigh ten thousand pounds at this point.
“I’m just going to brush my teeth, then I’ll be out of your hair,” Gavin says.
I nod, or at least I think I do. My eyes are already closed again.
I faintly hear the bathroom door snick shut as I sink deeper into the blankets.
I have no idea how many minutes pass before Gavin emerges, and as much as I want to, I don’t open my eyes to watch him go. He clicks off the light, then stops.
I’m not sure how I know it, but his eyes are on me. I can feel them trace over the lines of my body, settling on my face. I want to look at him, but something tells me not to. So I lie there, completely still, as he inches closer, his footfalls soft against the carpet.
Then I feel it. His lips. They’re soft and warm against my forehead.
“Good night, love,” he whispers.
It’s the last thing I hear before sleep takes over, and I fall into the best night of rest in my life.
Cinnamon.
The sweet and spicy scent is the first thing I smell when I wake. Bacon is the second.
My stomach growls almost instantly, and I’m not surprised; I can’t recall the last time I ate.
What I can recall—in perfect detail—is Gavin pressing his lips to my forehead. I have no idea why he did it, and I have no idea why I liked it so much, but I did.
Did he know I was still awake? Does he know I felt the kiss all the way in my toes? Does he know I can still feel his lips against me?
“You need to stop being such a little shit, Rufus. Quit stealing all the food. Pearl needs to eat too. Don’t make me separate you two.”
I smile. It’s cute that he’s talking to his fish.
I’m not quite sure what I expected Gavin’s home life to be like, but it certainly wasn’t this.
It’s so…simple. Logically, I know he’s just a person with a pretty cool job, but I still expected a bit more glamour.
Not waking up to him talking to his fish like they’re people.