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Fuck, how did I even get here?
Needing a distraction, I open my email and see my agent has sent me a six-month sponsorship gig for some energy bar thing. Pretty sure I’ve eaten one of those before, it tasted like a carpet pad. I scan through the email and whistle under my breath.Shit. More carpet pad, please. I shoot an email off to my financial adviser. I’ve got a couple things I want to discuss. It’s probably time I start diversifying, and this is going to put a big dent in that signing bonus.
THIRTY-THREE
My phone dings and I smile when her name appears on the screen.
Freya: Congrats on your win!
Me: Thanks ??
Freya: How’s Nashville?
I snap a photo of the view from my hotel room and send it off to her. It’s pretty.
Me: Not a bad view. What are you up to tonight?
Freya: Hanging out, watching Second Bite. Thanks for letting me steal your DVR ??
Me: What are you wearing?
Freya: Wouldn’t you like to know...
Me: Send me a pic
She sends me a photo of her in one of my old college shirts I left at her place. No makeup, hair tied up in a messy updo, natural freckles showing, her colorful floral tattoo sleeve on display, and those delicious, creamy legs I want to spread apart with my tongue. She’s so beautiful, sometimes it’s hard to believe she’s real. I tap the download button to save it to my phone.
Freya: It smells like you.
Fuck.Seeing her so relaxed in my clothes makes my heart clench. I don’t know what it is exactly, but it does something to me. It’s part sensual, part domestic, part possessive—and all Freya. Just the way I want her. Knowing she likes the scent of the shirt, that she’s missing me, makes my dick twitch. If it’s the scent she wants, I’ll happily put it all over her when I get home.
Me: Damn, your view is much better than mine.
Me: You just made front page of my phone. I like how you look in my shirt.
Freya: This old thing? ??
This gorgeous photo of her will live as my phone background forever.
Me: Ya know, you’re pretty cute when you’re being nice.
Freya: What am I when I’m not nice?
Me: Hot as fuck.
Freya: ?? ??
Freya: When do you get home?
Me: Flying out Wednesday, should be back around 6 pm.
Freya: Looks like the next four games are home...
Me: Somebody’s been checking out my work schedule.
Freya: You do remember I work at a hockey bar, right?
Me: I’m ignoring that. You looked at my schedule.
