Silence hangs for a beat.
Then I blurt:
“I could ask for a later start date.”
“Oh.” She pauses. “Seriously?”
“Tell the coach I’m on my honeymoon or something.”
Her mouth falls open.
“I asked you to be my boyfriend, not myhusband!”
“Details,” I shrug.
She swats me with a pillow. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” I say, leaning over her, “and you like it.”
“Do I?” she challenges, breath catching as I brush my lips over her collarbone.
Her legs shift beneath the sheets—nervous or eager, I can’t tell.
Then she whispers, “Are you…turned on again?”
I smirk.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you are.”
Her cheeks go scarlet.
“I mean… at least get a girl some brunch,” she mutters.
I laugh, low and satisfied, letting my hand trace down her stomach.
“Brunch first,” I say. “Then we can renegotiate the contract.”
She throws her head back on the pillow, groaning.
“God, you’re trouble.”
I kiss the corner of her mouth, slow and deep and possessive.
“You asked me to be your boyfriend,” I murmur. “I’m just trying to live up to the job description. So maybe I can get a promotion at some point.”
She giggles, and my hand runs along her thigh.
Yeah. This is good.Reallygood.
Chapter Twenty-Three
ELENA
Wedoget brunch.
