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“I know,” he says softly, and for some reason my heart soars, but then fear brings it back down in a crashing heap. What the hell is going on here? How does he know me so well, so quickly? And why aren’t I trying harder to keep myself from him? Above all, why do I feel like I am completely losing control of everything? Why is it when I look in his eyes, I’m lost, and, to be honest, I don’t want to be found? I love that feeling. The completely unrestrained feeling of not having to feel anything but him, it’s beautiful. I don’t have to worry about what I’m doing, where I’m at, or how I think. He gets me and it’s mind-boggling, and I never want to feel anything again but that feeling. As his hand tangles in my hair and his mouth devours mine, I think I know the answer to all my questions.
I just don’t want to admit it.
“Just leave me behind!”
Running backward, I laugh as Baylor trudges up the hill. Watching her, I smile even though I’m a little upset that it’s gotten so cool so quickly because she traded in her short, naughty running shorts for a pair of very tight black leggings. But I guess I’m not all that upset. She’s hot as hell in anything she wears. With her hair in a braid down her shoulder, she’s sweating profusely, but her lipstick hasn’t moved an inch. She looks pitiful though, huffing and puffing, and I want to throw her over my shoulder and run her up the hill, but I know she’ll deck me one.
“Babe, it’s cool, you’re not slowing me down.”
“I am,” she huffs. “I hate running.”
I nod. “I’ve noticed. Come on, we’ll go at your pace,” I say, trotting beside her.
“Ugh, just go.”
“No, come on, let’s talk,” I suggest, but she glares.
“Don’t talk to me, I can’t breathe,” she says, shaking her head, and I hold in my laughter. For someone who is fast as hell on ice, she sure sucks at running. We’ve been doing this every morning for the last week, and she still hates it. She’s so determined though, she won’t give up, and she wakes up at the butt-crack of dawn to go with me. I’ve been doing this for the last year and I love it, but it’s obvious she’d rather take a puck to the mouth. She’s still here though, running her little heart out, and I can’t help but admire her.
“You’re doing great,” I urge her, but I don’t think she believes me. She waves me off, and I decide that I’m gonna stay quiet as we make it up the hill. When we reach the top, I check my watch and grin. “You shaved two minutes off your time. Great job.”
When I look over at her, she’s lying face first in the dirt. “Yay.”
Laughing, I drop down next to her, moving her hair out of her face. “You’re adorable, Bay.”
“I beg to differ,” she moans as she rolls over, gasping for air. “I feel like I really pushed myself, and all I got was two minutes?”
“That’s a lot,” I remind her. “You’re doing awesome.”
“I’m dying.”
Leaning over, I kiss her dirty nose and smile down at her. “I’m proud of you.”
That has her lips pulling up at the sides before she brings me down for a quick kiss. “Thanks, babe.”
Gasping in mock horror, I tease, “Holy shit, you called me babe.”
Shaking her head, she sucks in a deep breath. “All the endorphins that are rushing to my head have made me stupid,” she informs me, but I see the sneaky grin on her face. Slowly but surely, she is relaxing around me, opening up more, and it’s such a lovely thing to see. I was sure when the shit with Skylar happened, she was going to dump me, but she didn’t. She opened up to me instead, told me how she felt, and now I feel like we are getting somewhere. She still wants to keep us a secret, even though Markus almost walked in on her giving me a blow job the other day. But hey, we’ll keep up with the charade if it makes her happy. I think it’s dumb, but she needs that control. She needs to know that everyone will respect her a
nd not bring what happens off the ice onto it, and I can respect that.
Sucking in a deep breath, she looks over at me and says, “Big game tonight.”
“Yup,” I say with a nod. “Jude might try to stop in. He’s got a game in St Louis.”
“Aw, that’s cool,” she says, looking over at me. “Is your mom coming?”
“Yeah and Lucy and baby Angie.”
“That’s awesome,” she says, letting out a long breath.
Looking over at her, I ask, “Do you want to meet my mom?”
She grins. “How would that go?”
I shrug. “I’d tell her that your name is Baylor, I know that,” I say with a wink.
“Well, duh, but like would you tell her we are dating?”
