Page 82 of Slapshot Bride

I don't have an appetite, but with the look in his eyes and his tone, I know he isn't asking. So I eat.

Easton’s on the other end of the couch. His feet are in my lap. There is a low light on in the corner of the living room, and the kitchen is dark behind us. A random show is playing on the TV, but we’re not paying attention to it.

He’s on his phone, and I stare at the TV screen.

It looks like a normal evening in a normal home.

A home. That’s what this place has become. Between staying all day indoors, reading my favorite books, making dinner with Easton, and the sex…

Lord, the sex.

We’ve settled into a routine. Our small routine and it’s comfortable. Except my baggage has to come find me.

The memories pour in, but only one word sticks to my head.

Girlfriend.

He told Preston I was his girlfriend.

I’ve been turning it over in my head since the door closed behind him.

The way he said it. The way Preston’s face flickered for half a second before it smoothed over. The way Easton had said it with the kind of finality that made it almost believable.

My eyes find his.

He's no longer looking at his phone.

“Want me to do anything for you, sweetheart?” he asks, his gaze fixed on mine.

I quickly shake my head.

But I feel it too. The warmth that spreads through me. The way he said the word, sweetheart.

Boundaries. We needed to set boundaries.

Whatever we have now, the sex, the lie we’ve told to Preston, we need to keep it going.

“Um… I was thinking.”

He drops his legs from my thighs and reaches for me, pulling me until I’m lying on his chest between his legs, with his arms wrapped around me, and our eyes locked.

My core tightens.

“Tell me about it, if you don’t mind.”

“The lie you told Preston. We need to…” A frown crosses his face, but it’s gone in a second. “We need to decide if we’ll keep up with it.”

“That you’re my girlfriend?”

I nod. His fingers move from my back and slide into my hair. A sigh leaves my lips.

The TV is still playing in the background, and I’m on his chest, his body’s warmth seeping into mine. I could get used to this. His fingers massage my scalp so well that I forget what I’m supposed to say, and my eyes close.

“Riley...” His voice is barely above a whisper.

My eyes fly open.

He's closer now. So close I don't remember him moving. His lips hover only a breath from mine.