“It is. It’s Poppy.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” My dick is so hard right now and I want to bury it inside her mouth. “Can’t we ignore her?”

I am desperate and deranged.

“No we can’t ignore her.” Nova rises from her knees. “She’s in town for a job interview, remember? If she gets the job, she’ll be moving here.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

My girlfriend straightens her shirt and tidies herself. “Be glad she’s staying in a hotel this weekend and not the guest bedroom.”

I know she’s right. Idoknow that. But also: my dick wants to burrow.

“Well, she sure has a sixth sense for cockblocking.”

“You poor baby.” Nova pats my cheek with the palm of her hand as I zip my jeans. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you.”

I love this woman more than I’ve ever loved anything. More than hockey. More than pizza. Hell, maybe even more than sleep, and that’s saying something.

“Promise?”

She tiptoes, pressing a kiss to my lips at the same time she reaches between our bodies and gently squeezes my balls. “You know I will, Ace.”

She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to meand not simply because the sex is amazing.

The buzzer sounds again, and Nova trots off to let her best friend up, calling something cheerful over her shoulder like, “Fix your face!” as she disappears down the hall.

Fix my face?

I glance at my reflection in the window of the microwave. Yep. I look like shit. Like a dude who was five seconds from getting his cock sucked in his kitchen, disappointed and exhausted etched on my expression.

SO close.

But so far away…

42

nova

Poppy is in town.

Question: Could this week get any better?!

Answer: Absolutely not.

There’s a half-eaten croissant on the plate between us, three iced coffees sweating on the table, and enough girl-coded gossip in the air to fuel a Taylor Swift stadium tour.

This is the life.

Poppy tips back in her chair with a smug little smirk and stretches her arms over her head, musing about her job interview.

I am all ears.

“Pretty sure it went great,” she brags, sliding her eyes closed as if basking in the glory of her own excellence, her gold earrings twinkling. Winking at me.

“Don’t lie--you crushed it,” I say, grinning as I peel the paper off the straw of my third coffee. “You knew you were going to.”

She wouldn’t have flown all this way if she wasn’t confident.