Page 45 of Goalie Secrets
“I’m going to check outside to see if it’s manageable for a walk toward the station.” Vanya shuffles past me, determined to ignore my demand. I don’t wait for her to ask.
“I was thinking how good you look in my clothes, but how stupid I was for offering it. I want to rewind to about ten minutes ago while we were in bed together so I can keep you there.”
“Jeremy,” she says with an expression I can’t read.
“I promised not to bring up that night you let me kiss you, but there’s no way I’m putting up with you saying you’re what the cat dragged in like you don’t know how fucking lovely you are all the damn time.”
She blinks quickly before letting her lips curl up at the corners. “Did you just call mefucking lovely?” She says the two words like they’re a joke.
“And sexy, but I promised not to bring that up.”
“This is you keeping your promise?” she asks with a hint of playfulness in her voice. Her shoulders have lowered. Awkward stress is replaced by casual familiarity.
But there are other emotions percolating. Intensifying her gaze and making her more beautiful than ever. Her eyes dart throughout my face before lowering to my chest where my lungs are tight and my heart is clamoring. She licks her lips, and they remain parted, like she’s just as short of oxygen as I am.
“Don’t look at me that way unless you want me to break my promise,” I rasp. “Because Vanya, all I ever think about is that kiss.”
“God, me too.” She blinks rapidly, her gaze dashing from me to the bed and then back up.
Our eyes lock and something clicks inside my infatuated brain. There is no point hiding how much I want her, no point tilting my body away as if my tented pants aren’t a billboard for my arousal.
“It isn’t just me, then? You feel it, too, don’t you?” I venture to ask because curiosity has been consuming me for weeks. Vanya nods. I step closer. Her stomach brushes my hardness before she moves her palms up my abdominals and rests them on my chest.
“There’s no reason to…to want each other like this,” she declares breathlessly.
My hands cradle her smooth jaw. “I’ve got so many reasons, Vanya, you have no idea. You’re beautiful and smart and caring. And the way you look at me makes me so fucking hungry for more. Like I’m the only one I want you to see. So yeah, all the reasons are right here.”
I kiss one cheek and then the other.
“And here.” I kiss both closed eyelids.
“And here.” My mouth lingers over hers.
I wait. Vanya melts against me. My heart soars at the thought of her feeling what I’m feeling. Wanting what I want.
Still, I wait. The next move must come from her. I’ve said all I dare say right now, and it’s up to this woman to decide where we go from here.
“This won’t be good for either of us,” she mutters weakly and yet the force of those words is more devastating than if she punched me.
“On the contrary, I can’t imagine a world in which kissing you again isn’t the best thing that could happen to me,” I say without a filter. So what if I sound pathetic? I will take any scrap of affection she’s willing to give.
Is it because I can’t have her? Maybe. That seems the most obvious answer to my inexplicably strong attraction.
But if my reaction to Vanya is simple lust, why does it feel likemore? Why does it feel like the domestic moments of watching a show and waking up beside each other are things I want in my life. It took a blizzard to hit Chicago and one night bunked in this basement to confirm that I’m not harboring a run-of-the-mill crush.
“There’s too much on the line for my job, for your treatment,” Vanya pleads. “We can’t do this. We shou—”
My phone rings. It’s my father again. I ignore the call, but I don’t ignore the warning he represents.
Although I’m biologically linked to that sex-addicted jerk, I’m not him. I’ve never forced or coerced a woman to be with me. That won’t start now. Besides, just because I’ve never wanted a woman like I want my doctor—my freaking untouchable and gorgeous and brilliantdoctor—I don’t have the right to push her boundaries.
“No need to say more,” I interrupt and step back. “Give me a few minutes to get ready. We’ll grab breakfast.” I push the words past the glass shards in my throat before ducking into the bathroom.
My reflection is mired in conflicting reactions. A flushed face and dilated eyes betray the simmering arousal under my skin and yet everything else is tight. Clenched jaw, pressed lips, tense shoulders.
Get it together, Lopez.
After settling my nerves, I find the determination to face Vanya with more discipline and restraint.