Page 54 of You’re The One (Saints Hockey #2)

FORTY-NINE

The viewing party was about what I expected: loud and packed with jokes at my expense.

Logan kept groaning and turning away from the screen, swearing he could see every time my eyes darted to his sister.

Hannah, on the other hand, soaked up every second, insisting it had been obvious it was Mia all along.

I can’t deny her assessment, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. Hindsight and all that.

Volk filled the role of resident grump, splitting his scowls between the TV and Natalie.

His version of foreplay. Shockingly, they left separately.

Helm spent most of the night bugging Ada while inhaling food like he hadn’t eaten all summer.

King was enthralled. I’m afraid we’ve picked up another fan.

Mia sat through it like a damn champ. I think she even enjoyed herself. It wasn’t her first time meeting everyone, but it was her first as my girlfriend. She roasted me—some things never change, and I like that—and laughed along with the rest of them.

Me? I was half glad it was over and half grateful I got to relive our first night together. Happier still that she was tucked against my side when the credits rolled.

The best part? Mia, crawling into bed next to me now.

She presses into me like we were molded to fit. Her back to my chest, her hips snug to mine, her toes tucked between my calves. My palm finds the warm skin of her stomach, just beneath the hem of her shirt. Still, I want her closer.

I breathe her in. Clean skin, my body wash, and something else that’s just so very her. I love it.

Her fingers thread through mine and give a slow squeeze.

“Our first party went pretty well,” she says, her tone light with humor.

“I think so.”

“And then there’s… well, another kind of party coming up.” She tilts her head back slightly, searching my face.

I can tell she wants to say more, so I wait her out. I already have a pretty good idea of the “party” she means if Bodhi’s persistence is a clue. But I wouldn’t call it coming up. Tonight was only the first of twelve episodes.

“So… I told Summer we’d do the reunion,” she mumbles, like she’s bracing for me to shut it down.

“Okay.” I press my lips to her shoulder.

She pauses, her thumb tracing over my knuckles. “Huh. No convincing necessary.”

“Mmm.”

She shifts, rolling her hips just enough to make my cock twitch. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

“I very much wanted to do some convincing.”

I nip at her shoulder, then the curve of her neck, and slide my hand lower, cupping her over her sleep shorts. “In that case, plead your case.”

Her laugh is breathless. “Well… Summer said we should.”

“Noted.” My hand presses harder, teasing, until she arches into me.

Her breath hitches. “And I want to?—”

“I’m convinced,” I cut in. Mia wants it. That’s all I need. I finally get what it means to do anything for someone else’s happiness.

“Dom…” she rasps, her voice breaking on my name.

“I’ve got you,” I murmur, dragging my lips across her neck.

I ease my hand beneath her shorts, brushing over bare skin. Already wet, she rocks into my touch with a gasp, her fingers flying back to clutch my thigh.

“Take them off.” She tugs at the waistband of my boxer briefs, then huffs and strips herself, shooting me a pointed look over her shoulder to do the same.

We fall back into the same position. Her back to my chest, our legs tangled. I toy with her nipples, then trace a slow path down her stomach, between her thighs, and back again.

When she’s trembling in my arms, I quickly roll on a condom and slide into her with one deep, careful thrust.

“Fuck,” I mutter into her hair.

She exhales shakily, clutching the arm wrapped around her chest as my other hand works slow, steady circles over her clit.

Her head tips back against my shoulder, and I kiss her throat. Then suck. Wanting to leave a mark.

I’ve never had the urge to mark anyone before, not like this. But everything’s different with her.

We move together—messy and tender and a little desperate.

“You’re too quiet. It’s weird. Talk to me,” she pants.

I chuckle but murmur against her ear, “I love you. You feel so good. So fucking good, baby.”

She whimpers and tightens around me. When her body starts to shake, I hold her through it, pressing deeper, chasing my own release.

“Don’t stop,” she gasps.

“Not gonna,” I promise, groaning as her nails dig into my forearm.

Her orgasm pulls me over the edge with her. I press as deep as I can and let go, burying my face in the curve of her neck as I come.

I stay inside her as long as possible before sliding out and taking care of the condom. By the time I climb back into bed, she hasn’t moved, so I draw her close, our bodies still damp with sweat.

I kiss the spot beneath her ear. “Move in with me.”

She huffs a quiet laugh but doesn’t immediately shut me down like I expect. I’m ready with a whole list of reasons why it’s crazy fast but makes perfect sense. Surprisingly, I don’t need it.

“Okay.”

“Really?” I push onto one elbow and look down at her as she rolls onto her back. Her hair’s a mess, her eyes soft with sleep.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous .

I kiss her once, then again, because I can’t help it.

“Yeah… I mean, you’re right, it is crazy. But it feels right. And I’m gonna trust that feeling.”

“So fucking right.” I brush my thumb along her cheek.

How close did we come to missing this? She’d been right under my nose, just out of reach the whole time.

Every choice stacked, leading us here. To You’re The One . To me finally finding love. To her.

Fuck . Maybe I do believe in fate.

Her finger trails over the bee tattoo on my chest, my favorite now, before she leans up to kiss me.

I cup her face, holding her there a second longer. When she pulls back, I press one last kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“So…” I drag my hand over her arm, brushing across her wrist. “If you’re moving in, maybe we could start the whole making it a home thing.”

She grins. “I like that idea.”

“I was thinking”—I thread our fingers together—“we could go shopping. Tomorrow. Bright and early. Pick out stuff for the house. Maybe some new furniture. Something cozy. Oh, throw pillows. Blankets?—”

“Are you offering to take me to HomeGoods?” she cuts in, amusement thick in her voice.

“Or… Target. World Market?—”

She snorts. “Big spender over here.”

“Oh, oh— IKEA !”

That earns a full laugh. She tucks closer, her forehead pressing into my chest as the sound shakes through both of us. “Have you ever been?”

“ Never .” I don’t bother hiding the wonder in my voice. “You’ll be my first. We’ll fill up one of those giant blue bags with things we don’t need, test out every couch and buy none, and most importantly, eat Swedish meatballs.”

“Sounds very romantic,” she teases.

“I’ll work on my You’re The One level dates. Only the best for my girl.” I kiss her knuckles, holding on. “But for now, how about IKEA?”

“I’d love nothing more.”