I wasn’t about to argue.
Chapter 15
Idesperately needed to pee.
Desperately.
But also, I was very comfortable in bed and didn’t want to move.
However, having a two hundred and thirty pound hockey player stretched across me and pressing into my bladder wasn’t helping my cause for not moving.
It was a conundrum.
I turned gently so as not to disturb Drew, whose face was pushed as close into the side of my body as he could possibly get it. It was a wonder he could even breathe, but I’d learned he liked to hold me tight all through the night.
Christ, I sounded like a Boys II Men throw back. I’d turned us into a cheesy make-out song. The need to pee was making me delirious.
It was becoming urgent.
I peeled myself out from underneath him and he barely stirred, still exhausted from the night before - from his game and keeping good on his promise of fucking me all night. I stretched out all my aches as I padded quietly through to the bathroom on my tip toes. Catching sight of myself in the mirror, my hair was all over the place in a thoroughly fucked style. Because that’s what it was.
That’s whatIwas.
I quickly peed and washed my hands, taking the opportunity to brush my teeth and run my fingers through my hair. When I walked back into the bedroom, Drew was still in the same position - almost face first in the pillow, one hand above his head, sleeping like the dead.
I leaned against the door frame watching him, his massive traps and lats gently lifting with each breath he took, the sinews of his muscles rippling. The top of the comforter was resting in the lower curve of his back, just above his incredible ass.
He really was a work of art.
I ran a hand over my stomach as it gurgled; what time was it? He made me lose all track, and I realized I had no idea where my phone was, not sure I’d even looked at it since before the game.
I went in search of it, following a trail of discarded shoes and jackets from when we’d come in last night. The October morning sun shone through Drew’s giant floor to ceiling windows, which stretched the length of the huge open space. I should probably have put some clothes on, because anyone looking through the windows right now was getting a little naked show.
I found my bag, rummaging around until my hand closed round smooth metal and glass and pulled it out, the screen lighting up at the movement.
MISSED CALL: JUPITER x 3
Jupiter: Why have I just seen you on my television screen at the Rangers game?
I groaned. Guess it was time for us to have a conversation.
I wasn’t lying to Drew the other day when I said I just hadn’t had a chance to talk to Jupe, but I was also pretty sure I wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation. He had always hated Richard, for good reason, but Jupiter’s man-whorish ways only made him more overly protective of me.
It was a trait that all man-whore brothers shared.
Fact.
I looked forward to the day he was brought down by a woman, because it was going to happen sooner or later.
I checked the time; nine a.m. here which meant it was still early in California. Not expecting a reply, I shot him a vague text back, which hopefully he wouldn’t read into until we could talk in person.
Emerson: Because I was watching the game
I crept back into bed, Drew still dead to the world, and I slunk under the warmth of the covers and his arms as best I could. My phone buzzed on the side table where I’d placed it.
Jupiter: But why were you in the Players’ Box?
Emerson: Because that’s where my seat was
