Page 229 of On His Team

I say, “I’m on spring break. I can stay in your bed until noon.”

“You could.”

“I can order breakfast here.”

“You could.”

“I can watch terrible television in complete peace.”

“You could.”

He walks over. He puts one knee on the mattress and leans over me. “I have to leave.”

I smile up at him.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he whispers.

“Like what?” I ask.

“Like you’re about to make me late.”

I grin. “You have time.”

“I don’t.”

“How much?”

“Ten minutes.”

“That is so much time.”

“It is not.”

I put both hands around the back of his neck.

Rowan kisses me anyway.

He’s late enough that Stanley bangs on the bedroom door five minutes later and yells, “Laurens, your girlfriend is destroying our season!”

Rowan lifts his head from my neck.

I start laughing so hard I have to cover my mouth. “Go.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He’s waiting for you.”

He kisses me once more, gets up, and leaves.

That becomes spring break. Not a vacation. Just more time together.

Rowan has practice and meetings, but I don’t have class, so the hours around his schedule open up in ways they usually don’t. I read in his room while he is at the rink. He comes back and finds me there. We get lunch in the middle of a Tuesday. We go grocery shopping on Wednesday night and end up buying things for two different houses because neither of us can remember where we are going to eat them.

He brings me coffee Thursday morning without asking.

Friday afternoon, he walks into his room after practice, closes the door behind him, and immediately climbs onto the bed where I am reading.

I lower my book. “Hello.”