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It certainly wasn’t relief that he’d come back to her.
This meant nothing. They meant nothing.
And she’d best remember that.
Chapter Nine
Clearly, Wyatt had no clue what the hell he was doing anymore. He’d been fine. He’d been great. He’d been at practice, doing his own thing, not missing anyone or anything at all, but the second he pulled out of the parking lot, he’d gone back to the place he’d been every second of every day since the moment he walked away from Kassidy Thomas—he’d been in his head, with her, wanting her, missing her.
She was all he could think about.
All he dreamed about.
Hell, he even swore he smelled her every time he woke up in the morning, but when he opened his eyes…she, of course, was never there. She was just a memory of a night he’d shared with a woman that he couldn’t forget, and he wasn’t sure what to do about that.
He’d never wanted more than one night.
Never ached for a woman so badly it messed with his head.
So, as he’d been driving home to crash on his couch with a beer and some old Giants games he planned to binge on so he could study Manning, he’d been unable to ignore the fact that there might be a glaring solution to his little problem: he just needed to see her again.
One more night with her. One more time sharing secrets and laughs.
Then he’d be healed of the hold she had over him.
There was no other answer to his dilemma.
“I can’t wait to see…” As he walked into her house, he faded off. The weight he’d been carrying on his shoulders since the moment he’d left her sleeping alone in her bed lifted, and he smiled when he caught sight of her living room. Furniture was pushed away from all the walls haphazardly, and there was no rhyme or reason. Her living room looked like it had been arranged by a blindfolded three-year-old. “It’s, uh”—he rubbed his jaw and laughed—“great.”
She rolled her eyes at him again. He’d never found eye-rolling so adorable until he met her. “This isn’t how I’m leaving it.”
“Good. Because this isn’t living your life to its fullest.”
A laugh-snort escaped her. “I wanted this,” she touched the hutch in the middle of the living room, then went to a bare spot on the wall. “to be over here, but it got stuck.”
He walked around it, rubbing his chin. “I see that. Want some help?”
“I asked Caleb to help me,” she said, her cheeks flushing pink as she adjusted her red-rimmed glasses. “He said he’d be by later to do it.”
“Well, I’m here now, so why wait for him when you don’t have to?” He went behind the furniture, tugged it back effortlessly from the planks where it had been wedged, then started pushing it to where she stood. “Watch out, short stuff.”
She bolted out of the way, her eyes wide. “How are you moving that so easily?”
“Lots of weight lifting and throwing balls around.” He pushed it where she wanted it to go and wiped off his hands. “This is nothing.”
“I see that,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “All those muscles at work again.”
“You’re kind of obsessed with my muscles,” he teased.
She blinked. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at them.”
He laughed, saying nothing.
As he moved the furniture, a random thought popped into his head. “Did your ex ever live here with you?”
“N-No.” She hugged herself. “Why?”
“Just wondering.” For some reason, the idea of that man being in this house with her annoyed him. Inexplicably, he wanted to be the only man here. “What did he do for a living?”
