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It took her only a second before she matched my tempo, her arms moving to rest against my shoulders with her glass of wine still clutched in her hand. Her teeth nipped at my bottom lip and I played back by capturing hers between my teeth for a few seconds before letting it snap back.
Kissing Lottie felt like the same battle the two of us played with each other—all about who would get the upper hand once it was all over. It was a mess of teeth and tongues, hands grasping for purchase, and bodies trying to gain leverage. It was all consuming.Shewas all consuming.
I hadn’t wanted anything new thrown at me this season out of fear that it would be the very reason I wouldn’t reach my goals. But it had become clear that Lottie wasn’t something that would pull me further from what I wanted, but rather was exactly what I needed to achieve everything I’deverwanted.
Lottie surprised me by her free hand drifting down to the top of my pants where her fingers dipped inside and teased the skin there. All the blood rushed to meet her touch.
The moment a groan escaped my mouth, everything became a frenzy. Her wine glass was discarded on the mantel. Clothes were thrown in various places I was sure we wouldn’t find later.But the only thing I could truly focus on was the woman in my arms as I lifted her up and her legs wrapped around my body.
I walked Lottie back toward my bedroom. For the first time, this penthouse finally felt a little bit like home.
Chapter 17
Lottie
Soft light filtered in from behind the blinds that were pulled. As I slowly woke up from the deepest sleep I’d ever had, my eyes searched my surroundings. Black bedding, grey walls, modern furniture, minimal decor.
Then last night came back to me in flashes.
Nolan hovering over me as he gently laid me down on his bed.
A trail of kisses that left my body in a heap, unable to move.
A manic tempo that had Nolan collapsing on top of me with his head fitting perfectly into the crook of my neck.
Names whispered into the dark room, just between the two of us.
The soft moments afterwards where it was just the two of us enjoying lying in each other’s arms.
Then waking up in the middle of the night to do it all over again.
My eyes slowly drifted toward the other side of the bed where I found it empty. The sheets were rumpled, and the covers had been pulled back as if someone had been there, as if I hadn’t just dreamed up the most intense night of sex I’d ever had in my life.
Then I noticed the sound of whistling and food cooking once I fully adjusted to being awake. Then the smell hit me, and it washeavenly.
It took everything in me to roll out of the softest bed I’d ever lain in. Sweatshirt and sweatpants had been laid out on the dresser across the room. They were three sizes too big. But afterrolling the sweatpants and pulling the drawstring tight enough that I knew they wouldn’t fall off me, I emerged into the kitchen to a shirtless Nolan with wet hair wearing only a pair of shorts as he flipped pancakes onto an empty plate. The whistle I heard was to the tune of jazz music that he had filtering through the apartment.
Everything felt rather domestic as I stood there and watched a man who faced down a stadium full of crazed fans and large men that wanted to kill him every week cook pancakes for the two of us. It was almost jarring to feel the peacefulness that something as simple as your significant other making breakfast for the both of you could bring.
I stood there in the hallway, unsure if I should enter this moment or not—it was unfamiliar territory for me—but before I could decide one way or the other, Nolan turned and noticed me.
“Good morning!” There was more energy and pep in his voice than any other morning we’d spent together so far this season, and I noticed how the way his eyes lit up brightened his whole face. Even the lazy smile he wore seemed to suit him. “I normally make myself pancakes before home games. I went ahead and made some for you, if that’s alright?”
“That sounds fantastic. If your pancakes are as good as the spaghetti and meatballs last night, I know these are about to be the best damn pancakes I’ve ever had.”
“Grab a seat at the island, I’ll whip you up a plate.” Nolan turned back around to the stove and gave me the perfect opportunity to study the expanse of muscles that rippled across his back. Without Nolan’s gaze on me, I could remember the situation I’d found myself in.
In two months, the two of us had gone from what first appeared to be sworn enemies for the season to realizing thatthe chemistry between us wasn’t hatred, but something else entirely.
I still hadn’t let my brain travel down the path of whether what we’d done these past two days was right or not. I wanted to live in this moment outside the realm of reality for just a little bit longer.
My phone buzzed on the counter where Nolan must have plugged it in after last night. The second I saw the name on the screen I let out a soft sigh—Olivia Thompson.
“Who is it?” Nolan asked me after he watched me hit ignore.
“Just my sister.”
Nolan turned and set a plate of pancakes in front of me before placing his in front of the seat next to mine. “You’re ignoring her?”
