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PR Demon:Text her before you call.
Me:You're the best.
PR Demon:I know. Don't fuck it up.
I ignore her comment and grab my earbuds before heading out of the bedroom. It's a safety precaution. If Laney is awake, I can't be in the bedroom to talk to her. I'll end up jerking off again. And I've already done that four times since I got home last night.
Every damn time I think about her, my dick springs up like he's a teenager. It's ridiculous. But she's so fucking pretty. I've never met anyone who gets to me like she does. I just want to scoop her up into my arms and kiss the hell out of her.
I'm dying to know if that mouth tastes as sweet as I imagine it does. With a smile like hers, that mouth has to be edible. The rest of her too. I plan to spend a significant amount of my time finding out just how edible she is just as soon as she lets me.
I jog down the stairs and head toward the gym at the back of the house. It's almost as large as the team gym. I spend a couple hours inside every day I'm not on the ice. Working out settles me, helps me stay focused. For the last year or so, it's also helped me ignore the sense of loneliness I feel when I'm here.
The place is too goddamn empty and too big for me. That never used to bother me as much as it has lately. I like my privacy. People always seem to want something from me. After my parents were killed by a drunk driver, reporters hounded me for months, wanting to know how I felt, if I was going to attend the trial of the driver who hit them, or what I wanted to say to him. They were relentless. So were the women trying to sneak onto my property or into our locker room.
Being able to come home and not deal with anyone else after dealing with that shit all day was a godsend. I could shut theworld out and justbe. More and more lately, I enjoy the quiet less and less. I enjoy this place less and less.
Coming home to Laney every day wouldn't be a hardship. I'd probably race home if she were here waiting for me with that sweet smile and sexy little attitude.
Christ. I gotta figure out how to make her fall in love with me.
Me:Good morning, cutie pie. You awake?
Future Wife:No. I'm having a nightmare.
I grin as soon as I see her response. Her quick wit and sass shouldn't be nearly as adorable as they are, but I love every second of it. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with her giving me hell.
Me:I think you spelled dream wrong.
Me:Can I call you?
Future Wife:There are cameras outside my building. That's definitely not in any dream I've ever had, Weston. And I guess so.
What the fuck?
I hit the button to call her.
"There are cameras outside your building?" I growl as soon as she answers.
"Wow," Laney says. "You don't waste any time. Hello to you too. And yes, they're camped out in the parking lot."
"Jesus Christ. I'll put Kelsey on it, see if she can't lure them away," I promise, pissed that they're already hounding her. Pissed they know where she lives before I do. No one should be sitting outside her building unless it's me. And even I know that's creepy and stalkerish.
"Thanks."
"I'm sorry they're out there."
"It's fine," she says with an annoyed huff. "I mean, it's not fine. I need to go shopping. I have nothing to wear on a date that's probably going to be all over the internet tomorrow. I can't tryon bras with cameras following me around. America does not get to see my underwear."
Annnd there goes my plan not to jerk off again.
"You're going bra shopping?"
"No. Ignore everything I just said," she says with a squeak.
My smile damn near splits my cheeks it's so big. "No takebacks, cutie pie."
"Would you stop calling me that?" she cries.
