Page 76 of Sweet Spot
“You can work here.” I motion to my desk, which is currently covered by books and clothes. Luckily, he doesn’t actually look at the place I’m suggesting as his workspace.
“You brought your laptop, right?” I ask, knowing he never goes anywhere without it.
I sit up and wrap my arms around him and he lets me wrestle him flat on his back while he wears an amused grin at my insistence. Lying on top of him, I pull the comforter around us. I don’t expect him to give in, but when I wake up a few hours later, I’m still wrapped tightly in his arms.
28
Lincoln
“I’m not wearing that.”
Keira looks from the button in her outstretched palm to me and back again. “Why not? Everyone else is wearing them.”
When I still don’t make a move to take it, she rolls her eyes and extends the poster board in her other hand to me. “Then you’re holding this.”
The Valley U hockey team takes the ice and the crowd stands and cheers. It’s the last home game of the season—family night.
“It’s a bummer Heath’s family couldn’t make it.” She pins the button with Heath’s face on it to her shirt and an irrational flash of jealousy surges through me.
“I don’t like it.”
“They probably don’t either, but at least you’re here. You’re a pretty good guy, Lincoln Reeves.”
“I meant I don’t like other dudes touching your boobs.” I cover the button with my fingers, so Heath’s cocky smirk isn’t staring at me and also because it’s placed in just the right spot for me to be able to cop a feel.
She bats my hand away. “Look, there he is. Hold up the sign.”
I groan but lift the “Feel the PAYNE” sign Keira made and insisted we bring. If Heath sees me holding this, he’ll never let me live it down.
I’m only slightly relieved when I’m able to sit and put the sign at my feet. We’re touching shoulder to knee in this packed arena, reminding me I haven’t had sex in a week. Before Keira, I went . . . well, way too damn long without. But now, even a day of not being inside her, is a day too many.
For the past month, we’ve alternated driving back and forth between Valley and Scottsdale. Sex, golf, repeat. Life is great.
“He’s really good,” she says, leaning in so I can hear her and putting more of her soft curves against me.
“Mm-hmm.” I slide my hand up her thigh an inch or two.
“Is he really good enough to go pro? He told me he was, but I don’t really know anything about hockey.”
Another inch. “Sure.”
“Hockey players are hot, don’t you agree?”
“Yes.”
“So, what position does Heath play? Quarterback? Outfielder? Point guard?”
“Yeah.” Another inch.
“Lincoln!” She grabs my fingers and twists.
“Ouch. Shit.”
“You aren’t even listening to me.”
“Yeah, I was. Heath’s good, yada yada.”
“I mixed in terminology for three different sports, but you didn’t even notice.”
