Page 325 of Playing the Pucking Game
Only a few minutes later, I pull into our underground parking garage, find my space next to her car, and kill the engine.
I turn to her, watching her rest just like I do every morning. Parker isn’t wrong; it has turned into some kind of obsession. I can’t help it, though. I wake up every morning thinking the whole thing has been a dream. But no, she’s there, lying naked beside me. Knowing she’s mine is the best feeling in the fucking world.
Reaching over, I gently drag my knuckle down her cheek. “Wakey wakey, sleepy head,” I muse.
She stirs instantly, and only a few seconds later, she turns my way and opens her eyes.
“Sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“It’s okay. It’s been a long night. Stay there,” I instruct as I throw my door open and climb out.
Miraculously, she does as she’s told and remains in her seat, allowing me to open the door and help her out.
“I am okay, you know,” she muses.
“It doesn’t matter; I’m still going to take care of you,” I tell her as I tuck her into my side and guide her toward the elevator.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
She remains quiet as we rise through the building, and the second we're inside, I dump my bag and lead her to my room.
She’s still silent as I undress her and tug one of my T-shirts over her head and then lead her to the living room to get her settled on the couch, one of the blankets from the other night over her.
“Where are you going?” she asks when I take a step back.
“I’m going to change, then I’m going to make you some food.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You don’t have to eat it. But I’m making it regardless.”
She lets me go, but I don’t make it very far before she asks, “What are you making?”
I smile to myself. I knew she was hungry.
“You’ll have to wait and see,” I tease before ducking into my room for another quick shower to hopefully wash away the final traces of tonight’s game before I get to snuggle with my girl.
Only a few months ago, I’d have been out celebrating our win with the guys. We’d always start at the Fractured Compass before moving on to a club. Every time, the bunnies would find us and would be more than willing to take the party back to their place or a hotel room. Now, though, I can’t think of anything worse. The only place I want to be is home with my girl.
When I make it back to the living area, I find Parker watching a reality TV program, although she quickly abandons it in favor of watching me in the kitchen.
Her eyes burn into my skin, ensuring that my blood is just below boiling point.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re making yet?” she asks as I whisk my batter.
“Can’t you guess?”
“Well, it’s not ragu, I know that.”
“Close.” I laugh as I pull the waffle maker from the cupboard
“Grilled cheese?”
I continue to laugh as she throws out other ridiculous suggestions as I slice up some fruit and get a tub of ice cream out of the freezer to soften.
“Aren’t you meant to be watching TV?” I shoot over my shoulder and find that she’s completely turned her back on it now.
“I prefer watching you in those sweatpants.”
