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He arrived home after dinner last night and I managed to make it so that I was never alone with him so we wouldn’t have to discuss what happened in the pantry. I didn’t want to talk about it, but Lord knows butterflies were in my stomach every time I thought about it during the day.
It was even better than I imagined. The pressure of his lips, the taste when he swept his tongue into my mouth, and the feeling of his hard body and generous arousal pressing against me. I felt like an addict—he was all I thought about yesterday and last night in bed.
I’d almost pulled out my vibrator but refused out of sheer stubbornness. But when he walks in freshly showered, hair still damp, with his T-shirt clinging to his muscles, I realize my mistake. I should have taken the edge off because this is pure torture.
“Good morning!” My voice is way too chipper and I cringe.
If I can’t play it off like it wasn’t a big deal that we made out yesterday, he will surely want to talk about it. But if I can sell the idea that I’m unaffected, then maybe we can both act as if it never happened.
He stops and studies me for a beat before he goes to the fridge and grabs a water. “Morning.”
“You want me to whip anything up before you head out?”
My car is good to go now, so Brady can drive himself to training camp today.
“I’ll have some of that fruit if you don’t mind.” He gestures to the strawberries and melon I’m cutting.
“Help yourself.” I hold out the cutting board between us.
He picks up a strawberry and tosses it into his mouth, then grabs a piece of melon.
I place the cutting board on the counter. “Do you want me to pack some to take with you?”
“Nah, this is good.”
I go back to cutting up strawberries, and silence falls like a thick blanket over us.
Finally, Brady breaks the silence. “What are your plans for tomorrow? I’m hoping I can ask you a favor.”
I set down the knife and turn to face him, leaning a hip on the cupboard. “Brady, you don’t have to ask me what I’m doing. That’s not how this works. I’m employed by you, so you tell me what you need from me, and I follow your orders.”
He squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Do you even hear the words coming out of your mouth? You can’t say stuff like that.” He sounds as if he’s in pain.
“What do you mean?” My forehead wrinkles. “It’s the truth.”
He raises his head to look at me. “Forget it.” He shakes his head. “I’m hoping you can drive into Santa Clara to bring Theo to training camp for an hour or so. He loves being there when we practice, and I cleared it with Coach.”
“Oh, sure. Of course I can. Any particular time you want him there?”
He thinks for a moment. “How’s eleven? We’ll be out on the training field by then.”
“Sure. Would you mind if I take Theo to my parents’ restaurant afterward for lunch? I’ve been meaning to swing by there for a few weeks but haven’t found the time. It’s not that far from the stadium.”
“Of course not.” He smiles and grabs another strawberry.
“All right then. Just let me know where I need to go, and we’ll be there.” I pick up the knife and slide some melon and berries to the corner of the cutting board for him to take.
He nods slowly, studying me. I know before he even opens his mouth what he’s going to say. “We need to discuss yesterday.”
My knife goes down too hard on a strawberry. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Violet.” He steps closer to me and sets his hand over the one holding the knife. “You know there is.”
I suck in a breath. “Can’t we just pretend it never happened?” I turn and meet his eyes.
“Can you?” He arches an eyebrow.
“I can if you can,” I lie.
