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“She checks her watch, like on her actual wrist.” He holds up my arm to show off the slender band. “Mutters the time to me and then breaks a speed-walking record leaving the elevator.”
I turn to him. “I had no idea.”
His eyes are gleaming. “My ego begged me not to recount his brush with death.”
“I should have looked,” I say quietly.
“Ehh, the timing wasn’t right. But it all worked out.” Then back to the table, “A few months later she shows up in this club where I’m hanging out with Boomer, Axe, and Bowie. FYI, she still wasn’t into me. Was sure her dad wouldn’t like me.”
Grace clucks her tongue. “Everyone likes you, honey.”
But Walt raises a brow. “This why there isn’t a single picture of you two on social?”
Wade shrugs, not exactly confirming or denying before he goes on. “Didn’t think jocks were her type.”
And whoa, talk about a bombshell.
His parents gasp, for real, which makes me laugh even harder as I hold up my hands. “I swear, I’ve since reconsidered!”
Kelsey straightens, her smile stiff. “You’re not into sports?” She shakes her head. “How is that going to work? Wade’s whole life is about sports. He’s aprofessionalathlete. And when he’s done in the NHL, he’s moving back here to coach our Tigers hockey team.”
I turn to Wade, surprised. “Really, you want to coach like your dad?”
But he’s sort of wagging his head noncommittally. “I don’t know. I used to think so, but who knows.” He smiles at me. “It’s a long ways off and a lot can change.”
Kelsey looks like she’s about to have an aneurysm, but I’m still thinking about Wade as a coach. He’d be amazing with kids.
Taking my hand, he brings it up to his mouth for a kiss. Rubs his thumb over the knuckles in a soft stroke. “Back to my story. I needed a date for some event and finally talked her into it. And FYI, I’m totally her type. It just took some convincing.”
My heart melts. Because Wade just gave his parents the truth of how our relationship began so I wouldn’t have to lie to his family.
Chapter 21
Wade
Idon’t know what it is, but something’s changed between us. I saw it in Harlow’s smile when I got back to the house today. Felt it in the clutch of her hands on my chest when she wanted that minute more.
And tonight, it’s in the kiss she gives me when we get to the truck. It’s slow and sweet. Lingering. And when her eyes come up and meet mine—yeah, something’s changed.
We don’t spill into the hotel room, tearing at each other’s clothes like we can’t waste a second of the precious time we’ve got left. We walk in together, fingers tangled in a loose hold. I sit in the wingback chair by the window and pull Harlow onto my lap.
“I didn’t know about the elevator,” she says, playing with my knuckles.
“It was epic.”
“It’s sad.” She shakes her head. “Wade, you were right there, and I missed you. I didn’t even notice. Why? Because of some regulatory report? Because I was killing myself for a job I didn’t even get?”
“Harlow,” I start, but when her eyes come up to meet mine, they’re brimming with tears. They gut me, have my heart beating harder as I hold her close. “Don’t cry.”
“I don’t want to miss any more.”
I slip a hand around her neck and draw her in for a kiss. Then, holding her in my arms, I cross to the bed where we lie down together. Fully dressed, shoes off.
“Okay, Good Girl. No more missing out.” She nestles closer, peering up at me from my shoulder. “Tell me. What’s the first thing we’re going to do when we get back to Chicago?”
Jesus, those eyes. That look.
I know what I want it to mean. I know how I feel.
