Chapter 12 #2
“Minutes up,” she announces, patting my leg and snapping me out of my X-rated thoughts.
I sit up, flexing my feet. “Thank you.”
“Happy to help you relax.” She stretches her arms overhead and yawns. “I know I just got here, but I’m going to head out.”
“Or,” I say, patting the space next to me, “You could stay a little longer.”
Her lips curve. “You trying to get me into bed, Wilder?”
“In your dreams,” I joke. “I want to hear about the new job.”
Her expression softens as she crawls up the bed to settle beside me, our shoulders brushing.
“It's going really good,” she says, her eyes bright with excitement.
“I'm learning a ton, and the team is great. It's weird being the new girl after being the owner of Baddie’s, but I kind of like the change of pace.”
I nod, ignoring the twinge of guilt in my chest. I was a grade-A crybaby asshole when she first told me about the bartending gig, too wrapped up in my own fears of losing nights with her to see how much the opportunity meant to her.
But tonight shows me how happy she is, how much she's enjoying this new job.
It suits her, and I'm realizing maybe change isn't such a bad thing.
“I'm really happy for you,” I say, and I mean it. “I know I was a dick about it before, but I can see now how it’s not as bad as I thought. But you still need to take off for my games.”
Her smile is blinding, and she leans into me. “Yeah, right. Everybody knows Ryan Wilder of the Seven Devils, so I need to regulate the gossip at the bar. I can’t let your reputation slip. Not with what’s going on with your brother.”
I smile because she’s not wrong.
Earlier, I avoided talking to my dad because I didn't want to hear about whatever media drama my older brother is wrapped up in now. He and I have always been very different people. I was born from a different branch.
Addie nudges me with her elbow. “How was practice today? Are the guys giving you shit about us still?”
I roll my eyes at the thought of the team, thinking back to the talk we had after practice. Addie would be pissed off if she found out I told the guys what’s going on. I clear my throat, hoping that it doesn’t blow up in my face.
The conversation from the guys earlier echoes in my head: You've got it bad, Wilder. This little arrangement is going to blow up in your face. You've never been able to hide how stupidly in love with her you are.
I push the words away. The guys don't know what they're talking about. Addie and I are fine. So, what if I've been half in love with her since college? I'm a grown-ass man. I can separate sex from emotions.
Probably.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
“Practice was intense,” I say, focusing on Addie's question. “Coach–my dad–is still pissed about that loss against the Saints, so he's pushing us hard.”
She pats my leg in sympathy. “Sounds rough. Are you heading to bed soon then? I can go, let you get some sleep.”
My hand wraps around her elbow before I can stop myself. “Or you could stay in here,” I suggest, trying to play it cool. “I mean, if you want. It's not like we haven't shared a bed before.”
Addie searches my face for a long moment. “Is that what you want?”
No.
Yes.
God, more than anything.
I swallow hard and nod. “Yeah. It is.”
She softens and shifts until she's curled into my side. “Okay then.”
“Prepare to be cuddled, Baddie.”
A laugh rumbles out of her chest as I wrap my arms around her. Something settles in me, a bone-deep rightness now that she’s in my arms.
She adds, “Be prepared for a good time–a wild time.” She shrugs. “A Wilder time. A wild puck–a Wilder puck.”
I’m laughing under her as she finds the right slogan.
She says, “Because I have some ideas for next time.”
I feel the blood rushing to my dick, and all I can think about is how I absolutely cannot get a boner right now. If there’s anything that can ruin this moment, it would be a hard flashlight pressed against her.
“I can’t wait,” I mutter.
I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair and focusing on the ache of my muscles. She pats my face in a platonic way, and I swear I smell vanilla on her wrist. I keep my eyes closed anyway, smiling that she’s here with me like this.
As sleep pulls me under, I can't help but think that this is the way I always want to end my days—every single day.
I wake sometime later, unsure what pulled me from sleep. I roll over, expecting Addison's warmth to greet me, but that side of the bed is empty.
“Baddie?” I call out, my voice cracking.
No response.
I check my phone. 2 AM. Maybe she went to the guestroom. I pad down the hall, but when I push the guestroom door open, the bed is empty and untouched.
Unease pulses through my body as I make my way through the house. The kitchen is dark and empty with no sign of Addison. Did she leave? Why would she slip out in the middle of the night?
Unless…shit. Did I cross a line earlier? Maybe asking her to stay, to sleep in my arms was too much.
Maybe I freaked her out. Maybe she realized cuddling was too couple-y for our practicing, fake situation. Maybe the guys were right, and this is the beginning of the end, the part where it all goes to hell and I lose my best friend because I couldn't keep my damn feelings in check.
I force myself to take a breath. I’m letting my mind run away with worst-case scenarios. For all I know, Addie needed work clothes or has an early morning tomorrow. I take a deep breath and decide that this doesn't have to be about me.
I fill a glass with water and gulp it down, trying to slow my racing thoughts. Addie and I are solid. We've weathered years of friendship and this new development–one night of me being a clingy bastard isn't going to send her running. I need to relax.
Easier said than done when all I can think about is how perfectly she fits in my arms, how having her beside me is all I've wanted for longer than I care to admit. But if she’s sneaking out in the middle of the night after a cuddle, then these feelings might be one-sided.
I can’t cross the line again if this is the outcome.
I'll take her any way I can get her, even if it means tamping down on the part of me that aches for more.
With a sigh, I rinse the glass and head back to bed. I have to be at practice in a few hours. Wait, isn’t she planning to be here early for our run? I should at least attempt to get a few more hours of sleep then.
As I slip beneath the sheets, I can't help but think about how she might bail on our morning run tomorrow.
As I roll around, restless, I notice how big and empty the bed feels without Addison. The vanilla scent lingers on the pillow and it makes my chest clench.
I'm.
So.
Screwed.