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“You are a queen, baby,” he groans. A massive clump of cheese and French fries disappears into his mouth.
Charlie embodies the saying that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. The six-foot-five goalie can destroy a meal, and I’ve never seen him try an appetizer he didn’t devour.
“Madison, you just might be the perfect woman. You’re hot, you like sports, and you show up with food. When are you gonna go out with me?” Ben asks as he lifts a loaded chip from the box.
“You couldn’t handle me, Sims,” I retort.
“Fact,” Charlie agrees around the food in his mouth.
I momentarily forget our awkwardness and catch Ollie’s eye and wink. One side of his lip tips upward, and my stomach warms as awareness creeps in. My eyes drop to his mouth. It’s like we share a secret now. A hot, forbidden transgression.
“Do I have time to jump in the shower before the big card game?” I ask, shaking myself out of the haze.
Ollie nods. “The pizza should be here in ten. The beer is in the fridge if you want one. And we were planning to watch the game before we play anyway.”
“Great,” I say, heading over to the refrigerator. I grab an IPA and remove the cap, tipping the bottle back for a long drink. The cold ale relaxes my body as it slides down my throat and into my empty stomach.
I glance over at Ollie again, but his attention is now on the screen. Having Charlie and Ben here helps to defuse any tension that might’ve been present between Ollie and me. I’m relieved about that. Maybe that was Ollie’s plan from the beginning. He’s always been strategic.
I set the beer down and move into Ollie’s bedroom to grab a few items of mine that have migrated into the other space. A second later, Ollie is hovering over my shoulder. I glance at the guys in the other room, but they’re too busy arguing over the appetizers to notice us.
“That looks familiar,” Ollie comments.
I run my fingers across the soft material of his T-shirt, where it lies on top of the pile of clothes. I have no intention of ever returning it to him. Not then and not now. I’ve slept in it more times than I care to admit, and the material is worn and soft from dozens of washes. I’ve kept it all this time. It reminds me of that night so long ago, the one where we hung out together, when he was there for me in a way that I desperately needed.
I slip the shirt beneath the shorts I plan to wear after my shower and smile innocently up at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” He smirks, but he doesn’t argue with me.
Ollie has no idea how much that night meant to me. It was a small thing to him probably, but I was hurting, and he knew it. That shirt reminds me of the soft layer lying beneath the hard exterior he likes to portray most of the time. It’s a piece of him and a symbol of what he means to me.
“Don’t come out here in just a towel,” my best friend’s brother orders thickly. The way he speaks the words tells me he’s picturing me in nothing but that towel right now.
Our eyes connect. Instinctually, my gaze drops to his lips again. That addictive mouth of his. He swallows hard, making me think he’s still picturing last night too.
“Ollie, are you telling me what to do?” I don’t disguise the teasing edge to my words.
“Yep.”
I shouldn’t find it hot that he’s bossy and domineering. He’s always been that way with me. It should irritate me. It should.
“Don’t you know by now, that usually doesn’t work out too well for you?” I kick my shoes off and rise to my full height with the stack of clean clothes in my hands.
Ollie’s barefoot, but he’s still a good five inches taller than me. I’m forced to tilt my head to maintain eye contact with him.
He smirks, his eyes darting into the living room briefly. Charlie and Ben are jeering at the television now as one of the teams almost scores.
“Your stubbornness only motivates me,” he counters, speaking low. “It makes me want to tame you.”
There’s a heat in his eyes that stirs a fire inside my belly. I saw it last night, too, right before he attacked my mouth.
“Is that right?” I challenge.
He nods his head once while that smile widens slowly.
I glance at Charlie and Ben again. If they’re aware of us, they are hiding it well. So, I take the opportunity to ask a question I’ve been wondering about.
I drop my voice a couple of octaves until it’s merely a whisper. “Did you kiss me last night?”
