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“It’s good to hear you say that,” he says. “Even though I think it’s the alcohol talking.”
There’s a pregnant pause between us.
“Sometimes I think you don’t want us to get too close. Like you put up a barrier,” he voices.
“I don’t mean to.”
“But. . .”
“This all happened so fast. It feels so good. I’m worried it won’t last,” I admit.
“It’s going to last, baby. I told you from the moment I claimed you this time around. You’re mine, and nothing is going to change that. No one is getting in our way again.”
“You don’t know that for certain. I have to protect my son. Even if that means we can’t be together.”
“Sky, don’t even go there. I’m serious. We’ll find a way to deal with Lewis if the time comes. I’m not letting you go. I want to tell you how I feel about you but not over the phone for the first time.”
My heart picks up pace. Does Liam want to tell me he loves me?
I don’t push.
I sigh.
“Get some sleep, beautiful. I’ll be back in town in a couple of days, and I want you in my bed.”
“That’s going to be hard now that I’m back to work,” I say.
“If it’s up to me, I want you in my bed every night. Want that sexy body of yours cuddled up to mine. Feel your ass pressing into my cock as I sleep.”
“You’re making me wet again,” I blurt.
“So slide those already slick fingers of yours between your thighs, and this time imagine I’m eating that sweet pussy of yours.”
I do as he says. I can’t believe I want to get off again. This is crazy. I have so many things to worry about, but at this moment, all I can think about is Liam, and when I come, it’s his name I scream.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Liam
We finish up practice, and the coach calls me into his office.
“Take a seat, Bozeman,” he says.
He sits back in his chair.
“What’s up, Coach?” I ask.
“The Avalanche will be in town next week,” he announces.
I grind my jaw as I remember Skylar talking about Carter Lewis. I was angry the last game we played, and that was without the knowledge I now have. This time, I’m furious and my body turns rigid.
“I can tell by your reaction there’s a problem.”
I scrub at the scruff on my chin. “I’ve got a problem.” I can’t deny it.
“Close my office door,” he says, and I get up to close it.
“Let’s talk off the record here,” Coach says. This isn’t the first time he’s talked to me as a friend. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have made it through my rookie year after the accident.
