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Fortunately, she made extra because we eat like pigs in the morning.
“They have to be here to care.” Ronan scowls at me. “But I’m totally telling them what you did when I get bloody Ebola, Captain.”
Xan stops mid-chewing. “Isn’t that shit deadly?”
“Ebola isn’t from the cold,” Cole corrects them, but Ronan and Xander aren’t hearing him. They continue their overdramatic bitching, painting imaginary scenarios about dying of Ebola.
Astrid laughs and jests with them and although I hate seeing her laugh with anyone but me, I can’t help being mesmerised by her spontaneous energy.
She knows I won’t be her prince charming, but she still wants me anyway.
If anything, she wants me because I’m not.
I kick Ronan or Xander whenever they attempt to talk to her and grab her thigh under the table.
My hand snakes up her thigh under the shorts. She sucks in a breath, trying so hard to focus on the coffee.
When she meets my gaze with those huge fucking eyes, my breath catches somewhere out of reach.
Will she still look at me that way when she learns the truth?
46
Astrid
No matter how much you hide it, the darkest truths will always come out.
* * *
After breakfast with the guys, Levi shooed them away.
When that didn’t work, he kidnapped me to the room upstairs and showed me that I should be only looking at him, not his teammates.
I might get close to them just so he’ll show me all over again.
This part of Levi will always get me in a twist.
I try to move from my position splayed out on top of him. I must be heavy. He wraps his strong hands at the small of my back, forbidding me from moving.
He rolls us over so we’re lying facing each other. I want to let him sleep since I doubt he got any last night, but his lips find mine and I’m a goner.
We kiss for what seems like hours. We devour each other in a slow passionate pace like we’re re-learning one another again. We don’t even pull back for air, we just breathe each other in.
I love kissing him. Not only do I feel his taste in my mouth, but I also feel him all over me and inside me.
Levi and I were made for kissing. We should never stop kissing.
It should be a blasphemy that we weren’t kissing since that party.
After what seems like an eternity, he pulls back, but he threads his fingers in my hair, playing with the falling strands.
I love all the little ways he touches me like he can’t get enough of me.
My own fingers get lost in his Viking hair.
“What do you want to do today?” he asks.
“Why?”
