Page 6 of Wanting the Winger

I lower my brows.“So you won’t eat my sourdough?”

“I’ll have some.But I have to watch my sugar.”

“I’ll make you some bread.And granola.Sourdough is really good for your gut health.You need microbe diversity and you can’t get that from just protein and vegetables.Tell your trainer I said that.”

He grins.“You’re selling it so well.Now I’m craving a microbe sandwich.”

I know he’s joking, but I take science very seriously.“Did you know that ninety percent of serotonin is made in your gut?You know what serotonin is, right?”

“Yes, Lainey.I know what serotonin is.”

“And serotonin levels can contribute to depression and anxiety.Bread can literally make people happier.”

He walks over to the fridge.“I believe it.I’m a grouchy fucker when I’m not getting any.”

He means carbs, Lainey.Not getting any carbs.Stop thinking about Bash naked.Seriously—stop.

I clear my throat, willing away the warmth on my cheeks.“Thanks for letting me stay here.It’s saving me a ton of money.I want to pay you something, though.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But--”

“No.”He takes a long pull from the stainless water bottle he just took out of the fridge.“Make yourself at home because this is your home as long as you want to be here.Just credit me with your success in your Nobel acceptance speech.”

I laugh at the thought.Bash’s smile fades away.

“Seriously, though.I think what you do is badass.Using your work to help people.”

“That’s the goal.”

“I’m proud of you.”

The warmth in my cheeks intensifies.Damn my fair skin.It’s like a neon billboard of my emotions.And the admiration in Bash’s tone and gaze is making me warm all over.

It’s what I dreamed of every day for years.I wanted to be special to him.He admires my work, though.Not me, Lainey, the woman.

And that’s okay.I moved on a long time ago.Bash is my friend now, and he’s a dear one.I have Shane.

“Thanks,” I manage.

“You want a drink?”

“No, I had a Dr Pepper on the way here.”

He groans.“You’re still drinking that shit?”

“Daily.Dr Pepper is my general practitioner.He’s an absolute boss, but the pelvic exams get a little invasive.”

With a grin, he says, “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”

He leads the way up the open, curved stairway with an intricately carved walnut railing.The walls upstairs are bare, but the space is still light and airy.

I’ve only been up here when I was staying the night with Eric after watching one of Bash’s games.We did that twice during his first season playing for Cleveland.After that, I started dating Shane, and he didn’t want me coming to Bash’s games.

“You’re in here.”

He walks into the first door on the right.I stayed in this room the other times we came here.It has the same dark wood floors as the main level, with three windows and a king-size bed that belongs in a luxury hotel.There are burgundy pillows lined up neatly and the white comforter is perfectly smooth, without a single wrinkle.

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