Page 125 of The Goalie in Room 1

“Now you’re understanding. I was getting worried that in your old age⁠—”

He squeezed my tit, hard, as he growled in my ear. “Brat.”

“Your brat,” I said with a sigh.

“Yeah, you are.”

Sun pierced my brain like a laser, pulling me awake the next morning through the uncovered window that looked out over the Pacific. Thad lay snoring softly behind me. His bigger body curled around my big body.

Last night had been amazing. But nothing felt settled. I wanted to lock this man down and make him mine. I wanted everyone to know that I was his and he was mine.

The longer I lay there watching the sun come up over the ocean, the more determined I became. I slipped from his arms, moving my pillow into the spot I left behind.

After a quick shower, I threw on some clothes, contemplating adding the brace since there was a slight twinge in my knee, but I decided it didn’t meet the criteria I was given when it came off.

Padding through the house, I stopped at the foot of the stairs, biting my lip. I’d never been upstairs, but I knew that was where Thad’s room was. The primary suite. Bits and pieces of it were visible from the balcony off the main floor, where the upper level cantilevered over the balcony, providing cover to a portion of it.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly made my way up the open floating stairs, refusing to look down. The open treads were cool, but they freaked me out.

The loft at the top of the stairs was really just a very wide, long hallway. Turning toward where I knew his room was, I opened the double doors. The view across from the entrance mirrored the one below, but somehow felt different.

I snooped through the suite of rooms, falling in love with the space, but no where near as much as I’ d fallen in love with the man it belonged to.

In the closet, a large duffel bag sat on an empty shelf. I grabbed it. I would need it.

Back out in the hallway, I opened doors until I found what I’d hoped to, given the conversations I’d had with Aaron about Thad’s house and why a single man needed a three-story house with five bedrooms.

When I opened the door to the guest suite, I nodded. Perfect.

22

THAD

Wood sliding against wood over and over pulled me to consciousness.

I opened my eyes to an empty bed and cold sheets where Cash should’ve been. Had been. All damn night.

For one disoriented second, I didn’t recognize the room. But then the soreness of my body…of my dick…holy fuck…brought everything rushing back.

His hand around the back of my neck.

Cash kissing me.

Pushing him against the wall.

“You’re fired.”

The bedroom door closing between us before I finally stopped letting fear make my decisions.

Another drawer opened.

I rolled toward the sound.

Cash stood in front of the dresser, wearing a T-shirt and gray sweats, folding clothes into an open duffel bag sitting on the dresser. His hair was damp from a shower. He’d dressed while I slept less than ten feet away.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced over his shoulder with a smile. “Good morning to you too.”