All the Way (Hot Jocks #2)(41)

After years of nerves and avoiding intimacy and being fearful of sexual contact like it was the bubonic plague, I feel like my sexual anxiety is lifting and slowly moving behind me. I’ve never felt so relieved, thankful, and satisfied in my life. And it’s all thanks to him—this gorgeous man beside me.

“How do you feel?” he asks once we’ve both found our breath again. He stares at me like what I say next means the world to him.

“Perfect.” I sigh, giving him an exhausted, yet satisfied smile. “What about you?”

“Perfect,” he says back to me, followed by his stomach chiming in with a churning growl, and we both laugh. “Well, perfect and a little hungry. Are you up for that dessert I mentioned?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

After Owen sheds the condom into the trash can, he steps into a pair of sweats and a black tee that tightly hugs his round biceps as he digs through his drawer. A smile passes over his lips as he finds what he’s looking for and hands it my way.

“Here, you can wear this.”

It’s one of his old jerseys. My heart leaps into my throat.

“Are you sure?” I run my thumb along the smooth fabric, then over the white letters spelling out his last name on the back. Owen has brought home his share of women over the years, but never into his bedroom, and he never in a million years would let any of them so much as try on his jersey.

“Of course. No one deserves to wear it more than you.”

When I slip it on, Owen chuckles at how oversized it is on me. It’s practically a dress.

“You look adorable,” he says, reassuring me. “C’mon. There’s dessert waiting to happen out there.”

In the kitchen again, Owen pulls out all the ingredients for hot fudge sundaes—ice cream, cherries, chopped nuts, whipped cream and fudge.

“Yum,” I say, lifting myself onto the counter to sit beside him while he gets to work on preparing two bowls.

“Did you want more wine?” he asks, eyeing the bottle we left on the counter.

I shake my head. “No, thanks. I think it did its job.”

Owen chuckles. “I didn’t know if you had enough time off after your breakup from tequila.”

I groan, clutching my stomach. “First, don’t remind me of tequila. I think that was the most traumatizing night of my life.”

“But, hey.” Owen smirks. “Look where it got us. Into the best deal ever.” He hands me a dish filled with the most delicious looking concoction.

I accept my dessert and swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat. I’d almost forgotten that this was all an arrangement to help me shake my rocky sexual past. It feels like this has become so much more than that. At least to me.

But what about Owen? Is this really just an experiment to him? Will he really just walk away when it’s done? I know it’s what we agreed on, but in this moment, it feels like that was the most futile promise in the world.

We enjoy our ice cream on the couch, cuddled close together. After, we decide against a movie and opt to head straight for bed. Which is probably for the best. I’m all up in my head again, I doubt I’d be able to clear my brain enough to focus on a movie.

When we crawl into bed, he immediately circles me in his big arms, pulling me close against him. I feel so small and secure in his embrace, like I’m finally home.

But I hardly have a chance to enjoy the feeling before it’s replaced with worry.

Is this how he’s held all the women who came before me? Because if there’s one thing I’m certain of—I won’t measure up to them. Not by anyone’s standards. I’m too old to be this inexperienced and too young to be this jaded. And a sexy pro-athlete hockey god like Owen Parrish doesn’t deserve someone who’s damaged goods.

The longer I lie here, the more my worst fears take shape and fill my chest with anxiety.

“You okay?” Owen whispers, sitting up a bit. “You’re tensing up.”

I nod, taking a fluttery breath and slowly letting it out. “Yeah. I’m all right,” I lie. “Just tired is all.”

Fighting to quiet the voices in my head telling me I don’t measure up, I curl my body around his and just hold him—hold him with the same strength he’s holding me. Only there’s one striking difference . . .

He’s holding me like I might break. I’m holding him like he might flee.

At this point, I’m not sure which would be worse.





15




* * *





Brand-New Day


Owen



This is a new experience. I can’t say I’ve ever woken up with a girl in my bed before. At least, not since my high-school girlfriend and I accidentally fell asleep watching a horror movie. I know, you’re thinking how can you fall asleep to a horror movie? Well, there may have been some pot involved. I had to sneak her out before my parents woke up the next morning.

But thankfully, I don’t have to do that with Becca. She’s curled on her side, facing away from me, and I roll closer, tugging her sleepy body next to mine.

“Mmm.” She moans sleepily. “You’re awake?”

“Yeah, just now. How’d you sleep?”

She stretches, relaxing into me. “Wonderfully. There was this huge, warm body pillow to snuggle with.”