Page 101 of Pucking One Night Stand

“Good.” His arm curls around me.

I finally roll off him, still sticky, my limbs barely cooperating. I land beside him on the hard floor, bare skin against coldtile, completely not caring that we’re lying across from a pile of sweaty towels and God knows what other biohazards.

He drags me back in with one arm, tight, close, and warm. No words now. No smartass remarks. Just this solid, very naked body pressed into mine like he’s not letting go for anything.

And I let him.

Because whatever that just was? I definitely want more. Then, for some reason, this morning’s conversation before I left home flashes through my head. “Blake?”

“Umm?”

Not entirely sure if this is the best time to bring this up, but it falls out of my mouth anyway. “Just thought I'd let you know. I spoke with my Dad this morning.”

Chapter fifteen

Blake

Cassy stretches her arm across my bare chest. “He told me you apologized to him, and he also seemed in quite a good mood.”

“Yeah,” I breathe out, staring at the ceiling tiles. “Didn’t think he was going to accept it.”

She shifts beside me, her hair brushing my shoulder. Her voice dips lower, curious. “So, what the hell did you say to him?”

I hesitate. Not because I don’t want to tell her, but because I told him I wanted to marry her.

“Well,” I say, running my thumb along her hip. “Apart from asking him to forgive me for accidentally punching him—”

She snorts.

“—I also told him that I was in love with you.” My voice is steady and low, because I mean every fucking word. “I think he got it. You know I’ve always gotten along well with and respected your father. Yes, we’ve had our differences over the years, but I understood exactly why he was pissed at me.”

She stills, then nudges closer, curling into me. Her skin’s cold. Bare arms, bare everything. “God, I’m cold.”

I tighten my arm around her for a second. “Come on. Let’s get dressed. And if you want, I’ll give you a lift back to your place.”

Neither of us moves immediately. But then she sighs, and I sit up, hauling my pants off the floor. She scrambles into her clothes, then zips up her pants and boots.

I pull on my jeans, shirt, and sling on my jacket.

Putting my hand in my pocket, my fingers twitch as I remember the ring. It’s sitting in the glove box of my truck. Just waiting.

My eyes flick to her again as she runs a hand through her tangled hair, and God, she's beautiful.

When she’s done, I pull her to me and press my mouth to hers. Slow. Solid. Nothing rushed this time. Just a promise I don’t say out loud.

I hold her for a moment, longer than I should, but not as long as I want.

Then I reach back and flick the lock on the door.

Click.

We step out into the corridor. I shut the light off behind us, and the hallway is bathed in a dim yellow glow, buzzing quietly like the whole world’s still asleep.

She walks beside me, quiet. No heels clacking. No phone buzzing. Just our steps and my thoughts keeping tempo.

And damn, it feels good. There’s a warmth in my chest that has nothing to do with the heater and everything to do with the woman beside me.

We stop by her office and grab her purse, then head to the exit. The double doors hiss open, and we step out into the parking lot.