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“What? I don’t even get to see your apartment? Meet your brothers?”
I blink. Because of course he doesn’t understand why he can’t meet them.Yet.But as to seeing my place?
I’ve been putting him off every time he asks about coming over. But maybe this is my window.
“No, sorry—it’s such a sty upstairs and usually a revolving door of crazy with the boys and their friends and sometimes even the girls they ‘date.’” Eli is such a perv, it seems like a crime against romance to use the D-word in the same sentence with him. “I usually don’t bring people over. But everyone’s out tonight. So if you think you can look past the original 1970s decor and appliances, you’re welcome to come up.”
Who knows when there will be another opportunity like this.
The corner of his mouth hooks up and he takes my hand.
* * *
Quinn
“Whoa.”Usually when people talk down about their place, they’re exaggerating. But it turns out that George is a girl of her word. This place isbeat.
“I warned you,” she says, crossing the yellow-and-brown-patterned linoleum flooring in a kitchen that’s seriously seen better days.
The chair at the right side of the small table looks like the back is being held together by duct tape. There’s a “chip” in the Formica table top roughly the size of my hand. One cabinet over the sink is actually missing the door but a bent hinge still hangs in place.
“Babe,” I start, but then the I see the smoke detector dangling from the ceiling, wires yanked out, the casing cracked… and I don’t even have the words.
Her eyes narrow on the carnage and she lets out a short sigh. “That’s new.”
“Pack a bag, Georgeous. I’m talking hockey-bag size.” And she’s a goalie so hers is even bigger. “You’re moving in with me.”
She laughs and walks over to what turns out to be a closet, stocked with more toilet paper than I’ve ever seen. Light bulbs. Fire extinguisher—thank fuck—and a bunch of other stuff. “Thought we might have had a replacement in here, but I’ll have to get one from my dad tomorrow.”
She doesn’t get it. “I’m serious. And not just because your brothers are… umm…”
“Havoc-wreaking idiots?”
“Sure.” I was trying for something less insulting, but now that I’ve seen the mark they’re leaving—quite literally since there’s a still-drying patch to the plaster on the wall in the living room—I got nothing.
Taking her hand, I tug her into my chest. And when she’s looking up at me with the edgy smile that gets me hard every time I see it, I say it again. “Move in with me.”
She blinks, her brows knitting together as her chin pulls back. “Quinn, that’s nuts.” And then she’s pulling out of my arms and walking deeper into the apartment until she gets to a door I’m guessing is hers.
I follow her into a room that is so totally George I can’t help but smile. She’s got banners from Wisconsin, posters and ticket stubs from her favorite bands. A mug that looks like it’s actually made out of a bike chain filled with a few pens. And an assortment of broken and retired goalie sticks mounted to her wall alongside a drying rack with her goalie gear strung up on it.
I’m getting turned on thinking about all this filling my space. “Baby, we could have a wall of his-and-hers hockey sticks.”
She whips off her T-shirt and tosses it in the mesh hamper beside the closet. “Ask me again in like two years if we’re still together.”
If we’re still together?
I’d maybe get a little pissed except that I’m staring at the bounty of her perfect tits covered by nothing but a purple silky bra while she digs through a dresser drawer overflowing with T-shirts. My mind automatically going to the sounds she made in my ear the last time I saw them.Played with them.
I come up behind her and slide my hands over the hips of her jeans, to the bare skin of her waist and ribs, then pull her back into me as I cup her over her bra.
There’s a mirror over her dresser and I’m seriously digging the look on her face as she watches me knead her through her bra. Bringing my mouth to the shell of her ear, I bite lightly. “We’re going to be together in two years. And you better believe we’re going to be more than living together by then too.”
“So sure?” she challenges, but I can see the smile playing at her lips and hear the catch in her breath.
“Hell yeah, I am.”
She shivers, her hands wrapping loosely around my wrists. Not pulling me away, just holding me as I touch her. Squeezing and plumping, playing with her nipples until her breath is as ragged as mine. Sliding one hand down her belly to the button on her jeans. Rubbing over the top of the denim to cup between her legs, and then sliding back up to dip inside.
