“I’m down if you are.” My head snaps up to meet his gaze. “What?” “Cuddling.” His lips twitch, and he holds out his hand. “Show me what all the fuss is about. I don’t think I’m ready for anything else, but cuddling, I can do. Or maybe I can’t. I guess we’ll wait and see. Maybe I’ve been a closeted cuddler this whole time, but because society says it means more and could give my hookups hope of being the next Mrs. NHL Player, I’ve never risked it.”
