Breathe With Me (Playing For Keeps #5)

by Becka Mack

“And it would be heartless of me to let you walk away without it.” “Mmm. A considerate man, are we?” “Yup.” He slips large hands in his pockets, and Jesus, I don’t think the man has stopped smiling. He tips his head. “Emmett Brodie, at your service, my queen.” Oh my God, fucking finally, a well-deserved nickname. I want to bask in it like sunshine, roll around in all that glory, but Emmett Brodie doesn’t appear to be done. “Now, since you never, ever forget important things…” He roots around in his back pocket, producing a phone. “You were about to give me your number.” I cross my arms over my chest to hide that my nipples have risen to attention. “My, you’re eager. Aren’t you going to ask my name first?” “Nah. Already know it.” With a perfect, wide grin, Emmett Brodie deposits his phone into my hand. It’s opened to the New Contact page, except the name field has already been filled out. Mrs. Brodie. For the first time in my life, my heartbeat trips. A shadow falls over me, and the air is sucked from my lungs as perfect, lush lips dip to my ear, warm breath dancing down my neck. “C’mon, Mrs. Brodie. The quicker we get through the formalities, the quicker we get to the fun stuff, like my ring on your finger and you in my bed for the rest of our lives.”

Sudden heat touches my back, and my brain goes haywire when large hands come down on the counter on either side of me, caging me in. “Three thousand dollars,” Emmett Brodie whispers, chin tucked over my shoulder as he reads the brand-new bank transfer lighting my phone screen. “From?”

“My ex. He wants to get back together.” “I see.” His eyes come to mine. “Well, go on. Tell him you’re taken.”

“Good girl. That certainly wasn’t an I’m taken, though.” Twisting between his arms, I lean back against the counter. “Because I’m not.” “Aren’t you?” He tilts his head, playfulness sparking in his blue gaze. “Hm. We’ll have to fix that.” I lift my wine to my lips. “It’s cute you have such lofty dreams.” Emmett wipes his amusement away with the pad of his thumb. “When can I take you on a date?” “My schedule’s full.” “Clear it.” “I don’t know if I’m interested.” “You are.” “Am I?” His gaze dips to my breasts, my nipples eager to meet him too. Those girls never lie. “Yup.” I catch a drop of wine rolling down my glass with the tip of my tongue. “Tomorrow.” “Tomorrow? You sure? Why not right now?”

“We just met. I never do anything on day one. Virtue, and all that.” “Virtue is so important.” He taps my phone, lighting up the screen, illuminating the fact that, at 11:58 p.m. and three thousand down, Preston still hasn’t gotten the clue. “Okay then. Tomorrow.”

“This is my favorite birthday ever,” he murmurs against my skin. “What? It’s your birthday?” “Mhmm. For another two minutes, at least. New Year’s baby, freshly twenty-seven. Feels a lot like the first day of my life, though.” “Happy birthday,” I breathe, heart pounding at the feel of him pressed against me, his fingers dancing down my hair. “What did you get?” His palm settles in the curve of my lower back, his whisper pressed to my ear. “You.” My heart thuds as I press my hand to it, willing myself not to call after him, ask him to stay. He doesn’t give me the chance. Before he disappears out the back door, he winks. “Good night, Mrs. Brodie.”

I’m just about to leave her a scathing voicemail about having the audacity to sleep through such a monumental moment when there’s a knock at the back door. And when I open it? Emmett Brodie waits there, head down, gripping the doorframe. There’s not an ounce of remorse in those beautiful eyes when he peers up at me from beneath thick lashes. Those eyes are nothing compared to the smile this man hits me with. “Good morning, beautiful.” The sweet words skate roughly down my sides as he steps inside, gently forcing me backward. “It’s tomorrow.” My jaw dislodges, and he grins, gripping it as my back hits the counter. “Ah,” he whispers, thumb tracing my lower lip. “I was worried my cock wouldn’t fit in there, but now I see. Perfect mouth, just like the rest of you. You’ll have no trouble, will you?” Fire ignites in my belly, and I fight the urge to squeeze my thighs together. “God, you’re arrogant, aren’t you?” “Now, I know what you’re thinking.” He shifts me up onto the edge of the counter, hand slipping from my jaw down to the base of my throat where he grips me gently. “But one look is all it took to know you had to be mine. I don’t deserve you now, but I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making up for that, and when I die, I’ll be a worthy man.” He tilts my head back, mouth hovering a breath from mine. “Tell me I can have you, gorgeous. Because it’s you or no one.” “What happens if I say no?” “Then I call it. Pack it in. Quit the team, quit hockey. Sell my house and move ba...

rest of my unfulfilling life while I pine after the woman who got away.” His face dips, just a touch, lips grazing mine in a way that sets my soul on fire. “But you’re not going to say no, are you? You want to be worshipped. Crave it. Deserve it. And you want to let me do it.”

My chest heaves, heart hammering. “This dress is a masterpiece,” I barely breathe. “Nah.” His lips ghost along my jaw, pausing at my ear. “It’s you who’s the masterpiece.”

Shimmying the smooth red material up my legs, I wiggle out of my black thong, tuck it in his shirt pocket, prop my heels up, and spread my thighs. “Prove it, Mr. Brodie.” “Jesus fucking Christ.” His lips part on a heavy, desperate breath, pupils blown as they zero in on where I want him. “I won’t be gentle.” “Don’t worry. I like it rough.”

He drops to his knees without hesitation, grips my thighs, jerks my ass to the edge of the counter, buries his face where it belongs, and I die. I die, right here in a kitchen that doesn’t belong to me, bare ass on the counter, with a hockey player feasting on my pussy. I die over and over, a beautiful, star-filled death as Emmett Brodie thrusts his tongue inside me, flicks at my clit. As he sucks me into his mouth, mutters about knowing I’d taste like this, like his last meal on death row. As his fingers work their way inside me, plunging, curling, demanding. As his thumb finds my clit, and then my ass, making me gasp. As I tell him he’s the first person to touch me there, and he promises he’ll be the only. As he grins, watching me moan and arch my back, inviting his thumb deeper, pussy clenching around the two fingers he sinks inside me, his trimmed beard glistening and his eyes dancing when he calls me his filthy wife and promises to spend the rest of his life fucking me wherever and however I want. I die, and I come, and I die, and I come. When I come again, both holes filled and his mouth suctioned over my clit, he finally grants me mercy. Pulls his fingers free, presses his tongue to my center, and licks me slowly, bottom to top. And then he stands between my quivering legs, holds my stare as I gasp for air, his belt buckle clanking as he pulls it free. “Tell me I can have you.” His pants fall to the floor, and he forgoes the buttons on his shirt, instead pulling it ...

Fingers grip my chin, guiding my gaze back to Emmett’s amused one, and I waste no time giving him the words he wants. “You can have me,” I pant, fisting his hair, yanking him toward me. “You can have me.” Our mouths collide, and everything inside me skids to an abrupt halt. My world stops spinning at the taste of him, the sweetness of me on his tongue as it sweeps against mine, the delirious way he devours my mouth. I feel every ounce of this kiss, the way it seeps into my bloodstream, pulses through my veins as he grasps my waist, holds me tight to him. We pull apart, panting, the hunger in his gaze cut by the shock tugging his brows together. Those eyes scour my face, watch me lift two trembling fingertips to my lips, feeling the way they buzz, desperate for more. My chest heaves but I swear my heart isn’t beating. It’s stalled, seized and waiting for something to bring it back to life. And then the crease in Emmett’s forehead smooths, and the most breathtaking smile spreads across his gorgeous face. “I fucking knew it,” is all he whispers before he wraps my legs around his waist. He dips his face, and when he breathes mine against my lips, my heart restarts. This kiss. This kiss is everything you ever dream of. It’s shaking hands, biting nails, suffocating grips. It’s hot breath, lashing tongues, hungry moans, and desperate whimpers. It’s realizing that everyone before

him has meant nothing, because this? This is what it feels like to be alive. To want something so bad all semblance of control leaves my body on a single breath. I want to give it up, all of it, the power I always squeeze tightly in my fist, and let him take it, wield it however he sees fit. I don’t have to wonder if I trust him enough; I just … do. I just do. “You have the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen in my life.” “You know what?” His shoulders shake with his exhale as I rub myself over his thick length. “When I had my face buried between your thighs, I was thinking to myself, This is the most gorgeous pussy in existence.” “So true,” I manage as he winds my hair around his fist, pulling me backward so he can watch me watch him tease me, slowly dipping the head of his cock, then depriving me at the last second. “This pussy was handmade by the gods.” “Gonna be destroyed by one too.” His thumb traps my lower lip. “Destroyed for anyone but me.” “You think you own it?” “Not yet, but I’m gonna.” A shaky exhale as he sinks further this time. He runs a hand over his mouth, eyes roaming my body. “I’ll tattoo mine on every part of you that belongs to me.” Fingertips bite into my thighs before spreading me wide. “Let’s start with these luscious thighs.” “God, you talk too much. Fuck me first and then we’ll discuss how long you get to keep me.” “It’s not up for discussion.”

“Cute you think you make the rules.” I roll my hips, taking him a little further, and I squeeze, smiling when he gasps. “Fuck me like you mean it, Mr. Brodie.” Fingertips brush my hips as his hands move to the counter, pressing in as he hovers above me. “Can I be honest with you, Mrs. Brodie?” “Always. Marriage is built on it, right?” Electric eyes lift to mine. “I’ve got a condom. Right there in my wallet. Always use one.” His tongue runs across his lips, and I can’t help but reach forward, touch his broad chest, run the tip of my finger across those immaculately carved muscles. “For the first time in my life, I don’t want to. No excuses, no lines, I’m just fucking desperate to feel all of you.” He drags a kiss across my collarbone, up my throat, stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Tell me to wear it. I already know I’ll never say no to you.” I should, shouldn’t I? I don’t know this man. And yet, “I’m on the pill” is what leaves my foolish mouth, followed by “and all clear.” Something dark skitters through his eyes, something…possessive. “Me too.” And then, that foolish, desperate mouth of mine finds his ear, pressing a throaty, greedy “Give me your cock” to the shell of it. A...

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Am I out of my mind?” “I think you might be.” A gasp works its way up my throat, my back arching as he pounds into me. “I’m gonna … I’m gonna … oh, God, I’m gonna come.”

“Come on my cock, and you won’t come on another for the rest of your life.” His grip on my throat tightens, a ferocity in his gaze that dares me, dares me to try to find this feeling anywhere else. “That’s a promise.” “You’re not the boss of me.” “No,” he chuckles, watching me shake. “Something tells me it’ll be you who’s the boss. But right here? My cock inside you? I’m the boss. So come, and let everyone know who this pussy belongs to when you do it.”

Before I can catch my breath, he drops to his knees, hikes one leg over his shoulder, and buries his mouth between my thighs. Licks me clean. And when he’s done? He crowds me against the wall. Fists my hair in his hand. Forces my mouth open. And spits that masterpiece inside. “You wanna be a mom one day?” he asks as he tries—and fails—to fix my dress, the mess of hair on my head, and I think it’s wild he’s asking me this when he still hasn’t asked my first name. “One day,” I manage, gasping as I stumble, legs officially giving up the fight.

Emmett catches me around the waist, pressing his whispered words to my mouth. That’ll be the second-best day of my life, right after the day I make you my wife.”

But when he walked into my life three and a half years ago, my fate was sealed. There would never be a me again without Emmett Brodie.

With his hand on my jaw, he brushes away a tear I didn’t know had escaped. Then, he covers his mouth with mine, and I let him in, because there is no other option for me. “Don’t let the voices win,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine. “They don’t know you the way I do. They don’t know your fight. My loud girl doesn’t let anyone else dictate the rules. Me and you, Care? We build our own rules.” Another kiss, soul-crushing and certain. This one breathes the life back into me.

“All you have to do is tell me you’re mine.” “You’re unhinged,” she gasps out, but then buries her fingers in my hair, wraps her legs around my waist, and tells me, “My bedroom. Now.” “That’s a yes then,” I barely manage, groaning as she rubs her soaked pussy against my torso while I head down the hall in search of her room. “That’s a no.” I press her into the wall, slapping her hands on either side of her head, our chests heaving as we stare at each other. “Give me one good reason.” “We don’t know each other.” “Next.” Her nostrils flare. “Emmett⁠—” “Your name is Cara Hunter. You’re twenty-four years old, and the sole owner of your event-planning business, Fête & Flair, which you opened right after graduation two years ago. You’re independent and confident, and you know your worth. You’re highly capable; you don’t need anyone to take care of you, but you also like being taken care of. Do you need me to recite your address, or is it a given that I know it?” Cara blinks up at me.

“Yes, I looked into you. Yes, I chased Debbie for your name and your address and anything else she was willing to share about you. It wasn’t all that hard, and there was even some excited clapping on her end. All I had to do was tack on a pretty please and promise her a special mention during our wedding toast.” I drop my face to her neck, kissing the pulse point fluttering there. “I know what you feel like from the inside out. The exact shade of red your skin flushes when I’m making you feel good. The way your nails feel tearing at my shoulders, and the sounds you make when you’re coming.” My lips meet hers for a hungry kiss that has her hips rolling against mine. “I don’t need to know everything about you to want to date you. Getting to learn you is gonna be half the fun.”

“I like M&M’s,” she breathes as she shoves my jeans over my ass. “And Skittles.” “Fuck yes.” “At the same time.” “Weird, but I’m into it.” She shoves me down to the bed, straddling my lap. “I don’t like to share.” My heated stare dips down her body. “Neither do I.” “Skittles,” she clarifies. “You can eat the oranges and yellows.” I smile. “Why don’t you just get the berry package?” “They’re not always available.” “I’ll keep my pantry stocked.”

“Back to the sharing thing. I don’t do it, period. I won’t tolerate being made to look stupid. I’ll give you two minutes of my time to rip your cock off and feed it to you, and then you’ll never see me again.” “Baby, this cock is yours for the rest of time.” “I don’t know anything about hockey.” “I don’t care. Just want you wearing my name on your back.” A shiver ripples down her spine. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend.” “Of course not. You already have a husband.” The quirk of her lips before she gives me one more push. “I don’t want to be tied down.” “All right.” Flipping us over, I push her down to the bed, pin her wrists together above her head, and yank my belt free from my pants on the floor. I trail the tip of the brown leather down her torso. “Then how about tied up?”

“Maybe I’ll fuck this hole right here, fill it with my cum and watch it drip out of you. Rub your pretty little cunt, get you all worked up, but stop right before you can finish. Your pussy will be clenching all day, empty, searching for me.” His mouth moves up the inside of my thighs, trading kisses for soft bites, the lash of his tongue. He pauses at the top, spreading me wide. “That what you want, gorgeous?” “No.” My head shakes desperately. “God, no.” “Then lose the fucking attitude and ask me nicely.” Fuck, I love it when he’s like this. Emmett loves me soft. He’s gentle and patient, compassionate and understanding, so sweet it hurts. But the way he fucks me? He fucks me like he’s lost all his morals. Like I’ve deprived him of my body for my own enjoyment, and he’s finally getting his revenge. Emmett Brodie fucks like a criminal on the run. One who knows he’s going down, who’s given in to the depravity, deciding to savor every last bit of his final meal. Emmett Brodie fucks me like a goddamn animal. And I love it.

“If I haven’t already made it abundantly clear, I’m fucking crazy about you, firefly.” “It’s been six days,” I croak. “I know. And I know that scares you. Scares me too, because I know this feeling is only gonna grow. Keeps me up at night, just staring at you, because suddenly it feels like my world is centered around a single person, and I am terrified that without you … everything collapses.”

“I don’t want you to go away,” I admit, burying the fear in his neck when he loosens his grip on my wrists, letting me cling to him. “I like having you here, and I can’t fight off the girls when you’re somewhere else.” “Baby, you don’t need to fight off anyone.” “But I can. I can take them, all of them. At the same time. I’ll do it, I swear.” A quiet chuckle, and Emmett touches a kiss to my lips. “There is zero doubt in my mind.” “It feels like you’re calling me crazy.” “It feels like you’re calling me yours.” My eyes move between his before I finally admit, “I am.” “Then I’m yours, and you’re mine, and there’s nobody else, not one single person, who could change that.”

“Nobody will ever see you again if you ever touch another woman,” I whisper against his lips. “I’ll go full ‘Goodbye Earl’ on you. They’ll be searching for their beloved missing hockey player for decades.” “You’re unhinged.” “You made me this way.”

“C’mon, Mrs. Brodie. Time to get dressed. We have a first date to cross off our list.” “I don’t know what to wear. Where are we going?” “I made two reservations, one fancy and French, one Mexican dive bar. My wife gets to choose which one she’s in the mood for tonight.”

“Emmett.” I hold my hand out, palm up. “If there’s a rulebook, we threw it out the night we met. You don’t have to tell me right now, if you’re not up for it, but please don’t hold back because you’re afraid of what I might think.” I let out a breath, biting my lip. “My thoughts, all of them lately, are about you. When I think about tomorrow, about next week, next year, or ten years from now … I think about you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No. Absolutely not.” I wave my hands in front of my face when he pushes a plate in front of me. “I’m twenty-four. I’m not engaging in a taco-eating contest with you just to prove that I can do it.”

I engaged in a taco-eating contest with Carter Beckett just to prove that I could do it.

When I’m done, I take the damp cloth Emmett offers me, cleaning my face before I slump against the wall. “I

can’t believe I’m spending our first date vomiting, and you’re still here.” “Still here?” Emmett smiles, crouching in front of me. His fingers thread through my hair as he gathers it on top of my head, securing it in a knot before tipping my chin up, guiding my eyes to his. “Baby, where would I go? I am wherever you are, no matter what.” “In sickness and in health?” “Always.” I snort a laugh, letting my head roll back against the wall. “I don’t know if you’re joking when you say this stuff, or if you really believe⁠—” “I’m going to marry you, Cara. I see my future as clear as day.” “Yeah? What’s it look like?” Emmett cups my cheek, resting his forehead against mine. “It looks like you.”

“I can’t. I can’t do it.” “You’re not doing it,” I remind Cara. “I’m doing it.” I swipe an alcohol swab over the golden skin of her torso. “Two inches from your belly button. Guess I can’t use my cock to measure, huh?” I snicker. “You’ll be able to in two five seconds, ’cause I’m gonna chop it off and shove it down your own throat.” “Baby,” I warn lowly, dialing her Gonal-F pen to the right dosage. “Don’t make threats that only hurt us both.” “What is that? What the fuck is that?” She points at the needle with one shaky hand, the other pressed over her mouth, eyes gigantic. “Emmett, that can’t go inside me. It’s huge!” “That’s what she said.” Another snicker, but Cara doesn’t return it. Huh. I’ll have to take the joke to the group chat. “You can do it, Care. It’ll be over before you know it.” I pinch her skin between my fingers like Nurse Cockblock taught us to.

“Ow!” Cara karate chops my wrist and twists out of my grasp. “No pinching, you fucker!” “I have to pinch the skin!”

My palm glides over her throat, squeezing gently as I steal the thing I want more than anything right now: a kiss from my wife. She melts below me, same as she always does, and I savor the sound of my name, the way she whispers it, uses it as the filthiest plea as my mouth glides along her jaw, up to her ear. “Are you gonna be my good girl, baby?” “I don’t have a good girl bone in my body. You should know that by now.” “Mmm. That’s right. You don’t.” Releasing her neck, I slide my hand down her front, dipping it between her legs. Shifting her panties aside, I run two fingers along her wet slit. “That’s why you’re already soaked, huh? My bad girl wanted me to chase her, catch her, and throw her down to the bed?”

“My bad girl wanted me to fuck her into submission, didn’t she?” “God, yes,” she mewls, shoving her fingers through her own hair as she writhes below me. “That’s nice.” I pull my fingers back, suck them clean, and then slap her pussy as Cara stares at me, mouth agape. “Can’t wait to fuck that later,”

Gripping the marble on either side of her, I rest my forehead against hers, staring into those bottomless blue eyes, the memories that live in them, all the laughter, the love, the hope. She’s my life, after all. “I know you’re scared,” I tell her gently. “I’m not scared. I’d just rather throw myself off a cliff than inject a twenty-five-inch needle into my stomach.” “It’s, like, an inch.” “You would know, shrimp dick.” Laughter bubbles in my chest, and Cara’s shoulders sag before she wraps her arms around me. “I’m sorry. You don’t have a shrimp dick.” She lays her cheek on my chest, and when she sighs, I’m struck by how small she feels, how vulnerable. “I’m scared.” “Not just of the needle,” I guess, running my palm down her back. “What if this doesn’t work, Emmett?” “What if it does?” I hook a finger under her chin, bringing her cautious gaze to mine. “We’re going to come out

the other side of this. We’ll be parents, Care, no matter how we get there. For now, let’s focus on today.” Her eyes move between mine. The slight tremor in her chin makes my heart ache. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be a dad already.”

“If it weren’t for you, I’d be alone and miserable. We both know I don’t exist without you by my side.” I slide my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her mouth to mine while she fists my shirt. “Do you know what you are, baby? You’re strength personified. You’re a forest fire, burning the bridges that hold you back. You’re a wildflower, rising again and again, growing without abandon, no matter the weather. You’re a firefly, baby. When the stars are tired, you light your own way, and the way for everyone else, too.” My beautiful girl blinks, and a silent tear runs down her cheek. I catch it with my lips, then press my promise to hers. “You, Cara Brodie, are a once-in-a-lifetime woman, and you can do anything.”

Cara takes my face in her hands, sweeping her mouth softly over mine. “I love you, Mr. Brodie. How did I get so lucky?” “I Stockholmed you, remember?” “Ah, yes. How could I forget?” She smiles at me, everything tender and brave. “I’m ready. Stab me with a needle, and then with your cock.” “At your service, my queen.”

She’s a sight to be seen, but then she always is. A shiver runs down my spine at the devotion that shines in her eyes, and I reach forward, grabbing a pink window marker from the glass we keep on the counter. My writing is a mess on a good day, but particularly so when I’m buried eight inches deep inside a pussy that squeezes like it was made just for me. I drop the marker when I’m done, digging my fingertips into Cara’s hip and strumming her clit just right so she comes at the exact moment she reads my message. You are brave. You are fierce. You’re Cara motherfucking Brodie. “Say it with me now,” I rumble in her ear as the quakes of her fourth orgasm fade. “I am brave,” she gasps out as I piston inside her, her hands clawing uselessly at the counter. Her head rolls over her shoulder, hooded eyes coming to mine as I palm one perfect tit. “I am fierce.” She cries out as I shove one luscious leg up on the counter and press her into the cool marble, angling myself deeper, fucking her harder. “Who are you?” I barely manage, balls pulling tight as my fingers scrape down her back. “Cara”—gasp—“motherfucking”—gasp—“Brodie.”

“Yeah, you are.” I slap her beautiful ass, leaving behind my handprint, right where it belongs. “Now come for me, baby.” She does, strangling my cock before she drenches it, squirting all over the counter as I empty myself inside her, my face buried in her slick neck. “Oh, baby,” I murmur, watching as my cum drips from my favorite spot. I gather it on my fingers, fucking it back into her pretty cunt before making her suck my fingers into her mouth. “I love when we make a mess.”

“You can’t skate in figure skates. Not with me, at least.” Her arms fall dramatically. “But they’re pretty!” There go her eyes, narrowing again as I climb to my feet. “Wait. How did you know I have figure skates?” “Ollie told me.” “Is that so? And what else did Ollie tell you?” “Nothing.” Not a lie, technically. I hold my hand out to Cara, but she’s busy staring up at me, eyes wide, lips parted. “What’s that look for?” “God, you’re fucking huge on skates.” The words puff out on an icy breath, and I grin, hoisting her to her shaky feet. “What do you say we skip the skating and go back to your place? I’ll let you tie my hands behind my back and jerk off on my boobs again.” I smile at the memory and brush my thumb over her lip. “No sense in wasting all that cum. I’d rather feed it to you.” “You’re fucking filthy,” she murmurs, a full-body shiver running through her. “I love it.” Gripping her waist, I lift her off her feet and set her on the ice. Her knees wobble and she fists my jacket with both hands, squealing. “Emmett, I’m so serious. I might die. If not from somehow impaling myself on a shoe-dagger, then from embarrassment.” “C’mon, baby. Cara Nicole Hunter doesn’t get embarrassed. She can do anything she sets her mind to.” Tangling her fingers with mine, I haul her into me, catching her against my chest. “You’re brave. Determined. Capable.” I drop a feather-soft kiss to her lips. “And you have me. I won’t let you fall.” “Promise?” “I’ve got you, Cara. Always.” “I don’t l...

“You’d be much better suited for someone like Olivia, you know. She loves sports, and hockey’s her favorite. She watches all your games and is always shouting at the TV like she understands what’s happening.” “Olivia’s great,” I agree, “and I like her a lot.”

“But she’s not for me.” Hooking a finger under her chin, I bring her gaze to mine. “It doesn’t bother me that you don’t know anything about hockey, or that you’ve never played any sports. We don’t need to have all the same interests to be compatible. Do you know what does matter to me, though?” I brush her golden waves over her shoulder, smiling at the Vipers beanie tucked over them, my number on the side even though she swore she’d never be caught dead in sportswear. “That I’m extremely hot and funny?” she guesses. “That you spent the last three weeks having your best friend teach you how to skate so that you could do this with me.” Cara gasps. “She told you about that?”

“There may have been some videos. I especially loved the way you starfished on the ice and complained about how exerting physical effort for a man is beneath you.” Groaning, she buries her face in my chest. “I hope you know how special you are. I swore I’d die a sport-virgin, and yet here I am, in my shoe-daggers, dangerously close to breaking a sweat, and I’m not even naked, which is the only time I ever break a sweat.” “I love it when you’re naked and sweating.” “I know you do. That’s the reason I’ve been taking three showers a day.”

But it’s not the sex I’m insatiable for; it’s the woman. The way my heart pounds when she opens up the door, the way my blood simmers and my nerves settle the moment she’s in my arms. The way she tastes when she presses three simple words to my lips, three words I never knew I needed: I missed you. We spend the next hour coasting around the lake, taking breaks every time Cara complains that the reflection of the sun on the glittering ice is the reason she can’t skate straight, and I get lost in the way that same sun dazzles in her eyes. Finally, I gaze into the sky as the sun starts its descent, faint strokes of pink and orange that paint this beautiful day, and not a bit of me is ready for it to end. Spinning Cara so her back is to me, I grip her hips and dip my mouth to her ear. “Think you’re ready for no-hands?”

“What? How about no fucking way? Are you insane? What if I fall?” “Then I’ll pick you back up, and we’ll try again.” “Just like that?” “Just like that, firefly.”