Page 42 of What if It's Us

“If you want another one of those, all you have to do is say the word, and I’ll make it happen, Mar. A little blood doesn’t scare me in the slightest. In fact, it might help with the cramping.”

“Hmm. It was one of the better orgasms I’ve ever had, I’ll give you that, but I think I’ll pass this time. I’m just feeling a little too…gross.”

I nod. “Alright then. Hang tight.” I take us around the block, pulling into a local drug store and unhooking my seatbelt.

“What are we doing here?”

With one foot out of the car, I turn and give her a challenging glance. “Are you trusting me or am I telling you all my plans as I execute them?”

Giggling, she shakes her head. “Right. Sorry. I trust you.”

“Good. Wait here. I’ll just be a minute.”

She smiles at me and my heart flips inside my chest because fuck, I love seeing her smile.

I’m in the drugstore for less than five minutes which, in case anyone ever needs to know, is long enough to literally pick up one of every chocolate candy bar in the store, an extra bag of M&Ms, because who doesn’t need an extra bag of M&Ms, some pain relievers, and a few extra boxes of feminine hygiene items to replenish the stash I already have at home. When I toss the bags into the back seat of the car, Marlee gives me a curious glance, but I simply shrug in response.

“Bear said one of everything.”

She cackles. “Oh, my God!”

“You like Italian?”

Marlee lifts a brow. “Marios?”

“Is there seriously any other place to go when you want Italian in this town?”

I can tell by the smile on her face that my suggestion hits the spot. “Then yes! I love Italian.”

“Good because I already placed an order. Let’s go pick it up and then I hope you don’t mind if we spend a night in. It’s kind of hard to go out and not be recognized by at least a few fans and I want you to be able to relax.”

Not that I’m not always willing to say hi to fans when I meet them, but tonight, I don’t want to people. Tonight, I only have eyes for Marlee.

She nods, understanding my plight. “Totally get it. A night in sounds cozy.”

We weave through the mid-afternoon traffic until we reach Marios where I pull into the curbside to-go spot and await the delivery of the order I placed. Marlee willingly holds our meals as I drive us back across town, pulling into the parking garage of my apartment building. Obviously Marlee knows this isn’t her place, but she doesn’t ask questions when we arrive. Instead, she simply helps me with a few bags and follows me to the elevators.

“Wow!” Her jaw lowers and her eyes bulge when we step into my apartment. “It’s much…warmer than I expected it to be.”

Her suggestion that I live within the confines of four cement walls makes me grin. “Did you expect a prison?”

“No.” She giggles. “But I didn’t expect neutral-colored walls, oversized furniture, luxury ocean-front décor and…” She gestures to the set of six different pots I have situated on my patio. “Plants.”

Taking the bags she helped carry, I make sure to meet her gaze when I say, “Well, I guess there’s a lot you have to learn about me, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

I’d show all of myself to you if you gave me the chance.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MARLEE

“Someplace tropical probably,” Ledger answers me when I ask where he would want to travel to if he could go anywhere. “I wouldn’t mind a private island somewhere so I can just lay on the beach with no responsibilities and no fans I have to talk to. Somewhere where nobody knows what hockey even is.”

“Sunbathing without all the tourists where drinks are handed to you whenever you ask for them? Yes please.” I raise my hand. “You’ve never done it?”

“Nope,” he says with a shake of his head.

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