Page 18 of Never Pucking Ending

The heavy sigh releasing from him isn’t lost on me. But there are things I don’t want to think about when it comes to my friends. I may not have been super close with Stasia, but she was nice to me. We had multiple business classes together, and she obviously runs a successful one.

I shrug. “It’s better than me having to think about her taking pics of her—” I drop my voice, like we’re not the only two in the room. “—you know, butthole.”

Jesse clamps his eyes closed and shakes his head, in disbelief. It makes me laugh. His following silence makes me laugh harder.

“Fine,” I relent, patting him in comfort. “We can change the subject if you don’t want to talk about buttholes.”

He takes the out, but the conversation doesn’t turn into something equally as lighthearted as potential booty shots. “I’m sorry you couldn’t tell me about the lease.”

The somberness of his tone sobers my amusement. “You don’t need to be. Things have been chaotic lately.”

His eyes focus on my feet as though he’s deep in thought.

“Hey,” I say softly, flexing my foot in his hand until he picks his head up and meets my eyes. “It’s okay. Seriously. What I want to know is what you meant at the restaurant. You were going to lease it for me?”

He swipes his tongue along his bottom lip. “I could tell how much you loved it, so I thought I would help you start something new. You’ve been sad about Belle’s Place. I’ve missed seeing you smile.”

All I can do is stare at him.

This man would do anything for me, and I never have to ask him for it. Why does he have to be so sweet? It’s torture on my internal dilemma that says I shouldn’t want to jump his bones. But I do. I really, really do.

“That’s…” I inhale slowly. “That’s very sweet of you, Jesse. Thank you.”

We watch one another for a moment longer before he breaks contact first.

The silence that follows is peaceful and paired with the full feeling in my heart and belly it’s easy for me to settle into the couch and close my eyes as he rubs one foot and then the other.

“Sometimes,” I admit quietly, wiggling in my blankets to nestle in, “I don’t think I deserve you.”

His fingers pause momentarily on my foot. “I think it’s the other way around, Bells,” he murmurs, continuing the blissful massage. If he ever retires from the hockey world and decides he still wants to work, he should do this for a living.

I’m not sure when I fall asleep, but the next thing I know I’m being cradled in strong arms against a hard chest as we walk up the stairs.

I garble something unintelligible and get a hushed reply. “Go back to sleep,” he says quietly, gently kicking a door open and carefully placing me down into bed.

I’m still half out of it when blankets are pulled up over me and weight dips the mattress beside me.

“Jesse,” I whisper, eyes still closed and thick with exhaustion.

He hums in response, combing hair away from my face and letting his fingers linger by the shell of my ear. The heat from his hand soaks into me and settles my body even deeper into the bed.

I barely remember allowing the word “stay” to escape my mouth. Sleep blankets my conscious as the knuckles still lazily brushing against my cheek falter for a brief moment at the invitation.

A shuttered breath escapes one of us. Him maybe? I’m too tired to figure that out. Suddenly, the warmth from his hand disappears altogether and the cool air caresses my face the way he did.

“That’s not a good idea, baby girl,” he murmurs, voice no louder than mine. I’m barely awake enough to protest and think I may be dreaming when I feel something warm press against my forehead.

“Get some sleep, Bells,” he whispers moments before his weight disappears from the bed and the door closes softly in the distance.

CHAPTER SIX

Jesse

I’ve never worn so much makeup in my life as I have for one fucking photoshoot. Maybe if I hadn’t sustained a black eye from practice yesterday, this could have been avoided. Or they could have still layered me with shit I don’t know the name of for the sake of the camera.

“Are we done yet?” I mumble, still in the robe they gave me when they told me to strip down into nothing but the underwear I’m sponsoring.

The makeup artist shoots me an apologetic look. “Sorry. They just wanted me to do a few more touchups before you go back out there to run your lines.”