Page 74 of Behind the Bench

I wish I had my phone so I could capture this moment and save it forever, but a mental picture will have to do. Lincoln stands at the stove, in only his black boxer briefs, flipping pancakes on the griddle burner. His back muscles flex withevery flip and he’s singing along to an Eric Church song that plays from a nearby speaker. It’s like my own personal spank bank is playing out right in front of me. There’s just something about a shirtless man cooking breakfast for a woman. Call me cliché, but clichés exist for a reason—because they’re true.

Lincoln still hasn’t noticed me as I step behind him and give in to temptation as I run my fingers up his bare back. He startles but then leans into my touch. My hands savor every inch of his skin as I rub them all the way up to his shoulders and down his sides until I wrap them around him fully. I kiss his shoulder blade. “Good morning.”

Abandoning the pancakes on the griddle, he turns to face me. He grabs my jaw in his hand and lifts my chin. Slowly, he lowers his head toward mine until our lips finally meet. I think it’s meant to be a soft, lingering kiss, but I have other plans. My nails dig into his back as my tongue begs for entrance. The spatula hits the ground and then Lincoln is lifting me onto the island behind him.

We make out like teenagers and feel each other up until the smell of burning pancakes tears us apart. “Shit!” Lincoln turns around and grabs the spatula from the floor and removes the blackened pancakes from the griddle. Meanwhile, I’m spread out on the counter, panting and desperate for more. I’m pretty sure my arousal is covering the counter where I sit. After last night—the sex, the heart to heart—my body and soul craves this man in a way I’ve never experienced. It’s primal and it’s urgent.

Lincoln turns the stove off and grabs a plate that’s stacked with chocolate chip pancakes. He turns to me and his eyes drop to my center, which is still on display, covered only by my flimsy lace panties. He clears his throat. “As much as I’d like to feast on you instead, let’s get some food in us. We have to be at the rink soon.”

My eyes dart to the clock on the stove and I hop off thecounter. “It’s 9:30! I haven’t slept this late since college. Why didn’t you wake me?”

I walk over to the small table that sits in the tiny breakfast nook that’s connected to his kitchen. Lincoln plates a couple pancakes and a piece of bacon for me before handing it over.

“You looked so peaceful sleeping, I couldn’t bring myself to wake you up. Besides, after everything that happened last night, I figured you could use some sleep.”

There’s a caramel pistachio espresso sitting in front of me and my eyes immediately cast up to Lincoln. “Did you run out for coffee? This is my favorite.”

He takes a sip from his own to-go cup and flashes me a smile. “I’m not that heroic. I had it delivered.”

People always talk about the grand gestures and big declarations of love, and, no, I’m not saying this is love. All I’m saying, is that this man is completely blowing me away with the little things. The quiet moments. The coffee. The simple fact that he keeps giving me freer rein during practices. I’ve never felt so seen in my entire life.

“Thank you.” We both dig into our food, completely content to eat in silence.

The peace and quiet is quickly interrupted when I hear a phone vibrate somewhere in the distance.

Lincoln points to the living room with his fork. “Your phone has been going off the hook for about a half hour now.”

Shit. Sadie.

I hop up so fast out of the chair and sprint to grab my phone off the end table in the living room. Twenty-two messages and six missed calls. Oh shit. I read through a couple of the most recent texts and can’t help but laugh out loud.

Sadie

Why is it morning and you’re not in your bed?

I figured you were boinking with your head coach but now I’m actually worried.

I’m about five minutes away from calling the police and filing a missing person’s report.

Please give me proof of life or I’m making the call.

Seriously, Ellie.

I shoot back a quick text hoping she hasn’t alerted the authorities yet.

Alive and well. I’ll be home soon. Don’t call the cops!

Lincoln is waiting for me when I make my way back to the breakfast table.

“It was just Sadie. I forgot to check in with her last night. She was about to send out a search party.”

He nods and then leans forward onto his elbows. I have a feeling another serious conversation is in our very near future. His thumbs begin to rub together and the nervous energy radiating off his body is palpable.

Oh god, he’s going to tell me this was one big mistake and can never happen again, isn't he? My stomach drops, chest pinching with anxiety, my worries stealing away my appetite. I push my food around on my plate, anticipating the absolute worst.

Finally, he looks up from his hands and asks the burning question. “So, where do we go from here?”

I lift my leg up onto my chair and rest my chin on top of my knee. “I’m not sure. Where do you want to go from here?”

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