Chapter Twenty-Six #3
I’m about to go for it, to say the words that I need to let out, when there’s a sudden knock on my front door.
“Who the hell could that be?” I whisper.
I guess now’s not the time to tell him after all…
“It’s food delivery,” Finn explains. “I ordered breakfast from You Knead It.”
“Yes, no cooking.”
“Cooking?” he chuckles. “You heat up frozen meals.”
“Team approved, chef quality meals. You eat them too.”
Finn’s dimpled grin stares back at me.
“And I cook,” I remind him. “What about my scrambled eggs?”
“I did enjoy your sausage.”
“Brat,” I laugh as I swat Finn’s ass. “I’ll get the food.”
“I’ll hit the head.”
“Do you need—”
Finn chuckles. “I can make it a few steps, thanks.”
I reach into the closet, throw on my oldest, softest pair of sweats, and jog out of the bedroom and down the hallway to open the door.
When I pick up the familiar takeout bags, I’m hit with a variety of delicious smells that make my stomach growl.
I don’t waste time and head for the kitchen to make us a couple of milky lattes.
Finn walks out wearing my Rush sweatpants, and I pause.
I nearly say, “Fuck breakfast, I want to eat you,” until I look at his sling and the prescription bottle sitting on the counter.
Instead, I grab the paper bags and rip them open, inhaling deeply and letting out the filthiest moan I’ve made outside of sex.
Finn does the same, and my dick responds to him like Pavlov’s dog.
I try to think of something to will this erection away.
“I ordered early, and they had quiche, their best seller. I got four with bacon and chives, and four with cheese, onions, and peppers,” he explains. “Plus, blueberry Danish and croissants.”
Passing him a mug of coffee, I turn to open the cupboard and grab two plates.
“Do you want me to reheat anything?” I ask.
When he doesn’t reply, I glance over my shoulder. He’s already biting into a bacon quiche.
“Or not,” I chuckle and turn around.
I load up our plates and bring them over to the living area. We eat, talk, and share pastry-crumbled kisses. The more food Finn inhales, the more he chatters, and the more I’m charmed.
We’re almost done with breakfast when his phone pings. He shifts and winces.
“Shit, I keep forgetting I’m injured,” he chuckles. “Time to take my pain pill.”
I launch off the couch and grab him a glass of water and his meds.
“Sel, I’m not going to recognize myself in a month if you keep catering to me this way. When I go home to Nebraska it’s going to be a shock to be put to work again.”
“What are you talking about? You already work your ass off on the ice.”
“I did. Now I’ll be sitting around for the next month, lazy and stir crazy.”
“It’s only ten days of rest and then you’re in physio,” I counter. “And if you listen to the medical staff, and let your boyfriend help you as much as he can, the time will go by in the blink of an eye.”
I set the glass and meds down in front of him, and he stares up at me, eyes wide.
“B-boyfriend?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “You good with that?”
Finn’s dimples pop and I sit my ass down, my knees weak.
“Would my boyfriend give me a kiss?” he asks.
“No need to ask.”
We seal the morning with a deep, drugging kiss. Finn’s right: with us, it gets better every time. When I slowly pull back, however, I notice he’s still got dark shadows under his eyes.
“More of that when you’re feeling better,” I promise with one last kiss. “It’s off to bed for you. For sleep.”
“Sel, you freaking tease.”
“Right back at you.” I stand up and there’s no missing my erection. “Now stop flirting with me, I need to get ready for practice.”
Finn nods and I move to help him stand up. Despite the side eye he’s giving me, he holds tight to my arm as I steer him back to the bedroom to get settled. Once he’s sitting with the pillows propping him up, I lean over and kiss his temple.
“Sleep now.”
Finn makes a sharp inhale, looking up at me with widened eyes and a shocked expression that has my gut twisting tight.
“Oh my fucking god,” he whispers.
“What is it?” I ask, worried. “It is your shoulder?”
“Oh no. Oh no.” He slaps his right hand over his face. “Holy shit, holy shit.”
I sit down beside him, my body ice cold. Is he having a delayed freakout about the “boyfriend” thing? Was that too soon? Is this the moment he wants out and never comes back?
“What, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”
“I told you,” he mumbles.
I gently lift his hand away. He’s blushing so hard that it’s spread to his ears, which are redder than his hair, but it’s the expression in his eyes that I can’t quite read.
“Told me what?”
“Last night, while I was lying here, I didn’t fall asleep right away. I was talking to you, and I—”
My gut clenches tight with hope.
“I can’t believe it. I was half asleep when I said ‘I love you’ for the first time, and I didn’t remember when I woke up. Not until now,” he confesses. “Sel, I’m so, so sorry. Fuck, only me.”
“Yes,” I chuckle. “Only you, Finn.”
I smile and cup his face, rubbing my thumb over his soft lips.
“Say it again, sweetheart,” I urge. “Because guess what? I love you too.”