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I make a point to look behind me, at my bed, where the sheets are still rumpled from when I got out of it this morning. I need to hire a cleaner—another thing to add to my ever-growing to-do list. “I have a perfectly good bed here, babe. We don’t need to go back to your place,” I tell her with a grin.
Aliyah looks at where I’m pointing and bites down on her bottom lip. I watch as she walks around me and towards the bed. Holy shit, is she actually going to…
Nope, she’s not. Fuck me. My cock just went from hard to fuckingharderat the thought of her climbing onto my bed and spreading those thighs for me. Instead, she’s… fixing the sheets.
“What are you doing?” I ask, dumbfounded. Any other time I’ve invited a chick to my bed, I barely get the words out before they’re on it, offering up their bodies, their pleasure to me.
“Making your bed. You can’t leave the house without making your bed. It’s sloppy,” she says.
“I haven’t had time to get a cleaner yet. You don’t need to do that,” I tell her.
“It’s fine. You can’t leave the house without making your bed,” she repeats. I stand there and stare at her, not knowing what to say or do as she continues to smooth out the top sheet. When she’s done, she turns around. “You’re going to need your skates today.”
“What for?”
“It’s day one of the new and improved Liam King,” she tells me. “Let’s go.”
I reach out and stop her as she tries to walk past me. Lifting the sweater in my hand, I pull it down over her head. “Wear it,” I tell her.
“Fine, but only because it’s cold and not because you want me to.” She threads her arms through the sleeves.
Shit, I should have thought about this a bit more. I thought seeing her practically naked was hot, but this… Seeing her in my sweater, with my number on her. Fuck, it’s sinful. I blink. The hemline falls halfway down her thighs. It’s huge on her, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more stunning.
“You should keep it,” I say. My voice comes out hoarse as I swallow the lump in my throat.
“I’m not keeping your sweater. As soon as I get home, you’re getting it back.” She glances at the bed and furrows her brows before looking my way again. “Grab your skates. Let’s go,” she reminds me.
I should ask her where we’re going. Instead, I follow her out of the room and pick up the bag I dumped in the foyer. “Matty, I’m heading out. Don’t eat my cereal,” I yell in his direction.
“Whoa, hold up,” my brother replies, jumping over the back of the sofa and heading towards us. “Holy shitballs,” he says, eyeing Aliyah up and down. “A, babe, what do I have to do to get you to babysit me? Like for real.”
I reach out and slap him upside the head. It’s becoming a habit, I guess. “Shut the fuck up and don’t talk to her like that,” I remind him. “Also, stop undressing her with your eyes before I rip them out of their sockets.”
Both Aliyah and Matty stare at me. I’m not sure if it’s the words or the growl that just escaped my throat that has them gaping.
“I don’t need you to defend me, Liam,” Aliyah says. Then she turns to Matty. “If you want me to babysit you, all you have to do is put at least sixteen hours a day out on the ice, live and breathe hockey. Make it to the NHL, draft twenty-third. Become one of the best in the league, and then go and fuck it all up to the point that your own team doesn’t want you anymore and lets my dad buy you. It’s not that hard really. Your brother managed it. I’m sure you can too.” She smiles.
Matty just blinks at her. He’s at a loss for words for once in his life.
“You know my stats?” I ask her, shocked.
“Don’t let that ego of yours get to you. I only know them because there was a mandatory meeting before your arrival, and your stats were mentioned. Although the main focus was on how everyone but my father didn’t want you on the team.”
“Yeah, the welcoming party’s been warm,” I tell her sarcastically. I press the button on the wall and the doors to the elevator open.
“It was nice to meet you, Matty,” Aliyah says as she steps inside.
“Yeah, you too,” he replies as he looks from me to Aliyah, and then back to me again. “Drinks tonight. I’ll arrange the entertainment,” he adds.
“No,” both Aliyah and I tell him at the same time the elevator doors close.
ChapterThirteen
The whole way down to the garage, I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I made his bed. What was I thinking? I wasn’t. I was on autopilot. It’s one of those childhood coping mechanisms I haven’t been able to shake.
Even as I heard my mother’s voice in my head, I couldn’t stop myself.Never leave without making your bed. It’s sloppy. Why are you such a sloppy bitch, Aliyah?I know I shouldn’t let her words affect me after all these years, but some things are just ingrained. I can’t leave without making the bed.
Trust me, I’ve tried, only to get five minutes down the road and have to turn around and go back. What if I crashed and someone had to go into my room and saw the bed unmade?
