CeCe blushes as she takes a mug from me. She is wearing her little silk pajama shorts and a worn, oversized Dallas Stars hoodie. “Nice,” I say, chuckling at the choice. “I felt it was only fitting, and you haven’t seen the best part.” She smiles and takes her coffee to the table, hiking a thumb to her back. CARTER 10. I drop to the chair across from her to absorb the way she looks with my name and number on her back. Damn, she looks like mine.
